Chapter 356

In Mateo's room, a wooden bathtub was filled with a murky brown medicinal brew. The young man was submerged in it, his slender frame barely making a ripple. The liquid pooled in the hollows of his collarbones, trembling slightly with each shiver that ran through his body. The stark contrast between the dark brew and his pale, almost ghostly skin was striking. Lester, with a deep, contemplative gaze, methodically inserted silver needles into Mateo's scalp. Beads of cold sweat rolled down the boy's forehead, his face contorted in silent agony. Yet, not a single whimper escaped his lips. Among all the patients Lester had treated, Mateo stood out for his sheer willpower. Here was a boy, not even twenty, enduring excruciating pain with nothing but grit. Raised in an orphanage, Mateo's life had been anything but kind. Yet, his heart remained warm and untainted by bitterness. He had no vices, and during his stay with the Wallace family, he spent his days either undergoing treatment or helping