The Storm Clan's medical room was wrapped in oppressive silence, broken only by the faint hum of the healing machine in the corner and the occasional crinkle of bandages as Charles shifted on the bed.
Moonlight filtered through the window, casting long shadows across the polished stone walls.
According to the system, his energy was at 15% and his health at 100%, but staying in this room, pretending to be more injured than he was, was starting to wear him down mentally.
'This is… boring,' he thought, staring at the dark ceiling.
There was nothing to do in this room—no computers, no gaming consoles… nothing.
And since Charles couldn't do anything, all he had left was to stew in his thoughts.
His conversation with Lira still echoed in his head.
Her warning about firearms in the outside world had left him uneasy.
If he didn't escape, the clan would eventually send him on a mission to the outside world, but what would that even be like?
