Ian held his breath as he stared at the barricaded restroom door, cold sweat drenching his back.

At this moment, Justin's eyes were full of tears, his gaze unfocused and his consciousness slipping away.

If no one was here to protect him during his withdrawal, he would be nothing more than a sacrificial lamb, waiting to be slaughtered.

Ian's eyes turned bloodshot. He clenched his teeth, grabbed a mop, and stepped toward the door. "Who is it?!"

"Ian, it's me—Arnold." A deep, steady voice came from the other side.

"Dr. Larson!"

The mop clattered to the ground. Ian's tears spilled over uncontrollably.

"Don't panic. I'm alone." Arnold paused before continuing, his voice low and urgent. "Justin is having a withdrawal episode, isn't he? Let me in."

and scrambled to remove the barricade,

slipped his slender frame inside

save Mr. Salvador! No one else can help him

deep breath and walked

thrashing, Ian had bound his wrists with his own tie and stuffed another tie

Arnold knelt on one knee before him, his pale lips

me..." Justin's bloodshot eyes pleaded as his body convulsed uncontrollably. He could not stop trembling, nor could he stop the tears from streaming down his face. "I... I

pulled a black cloth pouch from his coat. Unfolding it, he revealed a set of acupuncture needles and several vials of

and pierced it into

that is my failure as a doctor. If anything happens to you, I will take my own life to

they have a close relationship, isn't this going too far?! If something happened to Arnold, what would become of Asher? And if

Arnold had already inserted needles into

unconscious and his face remained deathly pale, he looked

like this?" Arnold asked as he carefully

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