Reborn In a Murderer’s Embrace

Chapter 311

"Dr. Damian..." The doctor beside him was clearly uncomfortable; what was happening seemed fundamentally inhumane.

Any doctor with a shred of conscience wouldn't want to torment a patient with mental illness.

Colin was a patient, but he was also a human being.

The other doctors averted their eyes, simmering with anger but silent in their protest.

At Sea City Mental Health Sanatorium, next to the director, was Damian. And since Damian was married to the director's daughter, he was essentially the most powerful and influential person there.

No one dared to challenge him.

No one dared to question him.

Damian glanced coldly at the hesitant doctor. "This kind of experimental data is a rare opportunity."

I gripped Colin's hand tightly, glaring at Damian with fury. "You're the real monster here."

Damian simply looked at me, his expression unreadable.

Nearby, Dexter seemed to realize something was off with Colin. "Dr. Damian, you just need to get him back quickly. There's no need for—"

"Dexter," Melody, with tears in her eyes, interrupted before he could finish. "Dexter, when Caleb loses it, it's terrifying. Let's not interfere; the doctors must have their reasons."

Dexter frowned, glancing at me subconsciously. It was as if he was searching for a plea in my eyes. As if my asking would prompt him to keep advocating for me.

But I didn't ask.

just held Colin's hand tighter. "Can you hold on?

became labored, his gaze

a walking corpse,

restraints could imprison his spirit, paralyze

a smirk as he saw the drugs

come here," he commanded

voice was tinged with excitement, as

slightly, as if fighting an intense internal battle. He let go of

clung to him helplessly, not wanting

and come back with me," Damian ordered once

pushed me away

mental health center exhaled in relief. It seemed there was nothing unusual after all, just a patient with stronger resistance to medication

at me with a challenging

was warning Dexter to keep

take my hand. "Phoebe... He should

for the mentally ill in mid-20th-century Europe was?" Damian

clenched my fists

He pointed to his

I charged at him, overcome with a rage so raw I truly wanted to

arms,

knew Damian was taunting me. He had no right to subject Colin to such a procedure, but still, I was terrified. The lengths these people would go

it hit me, what Colin had said before:

at all, but these chemicals that