Dr. Han Shuo stood framed in the crumbling doorway, his chest heaving as the last of his stubborn pride crumbled under the weight of Chen Ying's terrifying ultimatum. Inside the dim shack, the little boy let out another shallow, whistling gasp that sounded like tearing paper.
"The supplies," Dr. Han rasped, his voice breaking as he finally stepped aside, his trembling arm gesturing toward the interior. "You... you truly brought the specialized compound? You can save him?"
Chen Yan stepped past him without a word, his icy demeanor completely unchanged by the emotional display. He approached the small wooden cot, his long fingers instantly pressing against the child's frail neck to gauge the carotid pulse. His sharp brows knit together into a hard line.
