C799 Don't Even Think about Dying

The acrid smell of the medicine filled the room, and the IV bag hanging from the shelf dripped slowly and rhythmically.

From the tube and the needle on the back of his hand, the liquid flowed slowly into the body of the woman lying in the sickbed.

The bed was narrow enough for a man to lie down on, but clean, spotless.

The clean and snow-white bed sheets were replaced with a layer of cloth