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."

hastily and scrambled to remove the barricade, unlocking the

his slender frame inside and swiftly relocked the

Salvador! No one else can

breath and walked

his own tie and stuffed another tie

his pale lips

his body convulsed uncontrollably. He could not stop trembling, nor could he stop the tears from streaming down his face. "I... I just want to

won't die." Arnold immediately pulled a black cloth pouch from his coat. Unfolding it, he revealed

and pierced it into Justin's temple, his voice firm

patient. If I can't cure you, then that is my failure as a

a close relationship, isn't this going too far?! If something happened to Arnold,

chaos, Arnold had already inserted needles into

still unconscious and his face remained deathly pale, he looked much

this?" Arnold asked as he

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