W Country.
In a remote area of Cloudfort, within an abandoned warehouse near the city border, a young man huddled on the grimy concrete floor, his body covered in wounds and dried blood. A scurrying rat approached him, eyeing him as potential prey.
Dim light seeped through a small vent on one of the walls, casting a faint glow that allowed the man to survey his bleak surroundings.
Chains bound his hands, restricting his movement to a small area. The room was barren except for a few stacks of old crates in a far corner.
A nameless pain consumed him, yet he lacked the strength to flinch or cry out for help. With great effort, he slowly shooed away the rats that saw him as a portion of food.
He couldn't understand why the gangsters had captured and mercilessly tortured him, leaving him in a state where death seemed preferable. The agony was unbearable.
