Chapter 2
Time crawled by.
The midday sun hammered down on the training field.
Two hours had passed.
"Coach…"
A girl in the front row suddenly raised her hand.
She pointed at the gap beneath the iron door, her face pale as paper.
"There's… a red liquid coming out from under there…"
A ripple of commotion passed through the squad.
A few of the bolder guys craned their necks to look.
Teammates crowded in.
The murmuring grew louder.
Chloe pinched her nose in disgust and took two steps back.
She shouted loudly.
"Oh my God, Sophie is so childish!"
"She squeezed a red ink bottle to force the coach to back down?"
"Does she think this is a movie? That's disgusting."
Chloe's words made the surrounding teammates pause.
The tension eased slightly.
Some began muttering that I'd gone too far.
Ethan's face darkened.
He didn't explode—just strode to the storage shed.
He looked at the dark red puddle on the ground, brow furrowed.
"Sophie, are you done with this?"
"Stop pulling this cheap, revolting sympathy stunt."
"You think this is going to make me feel sorry for you?"
No response came from behind the door.
Ethan let out a cold laugh.
He lifted his foot and kicked the iron door.
BANG.
The massive force transmitted through the door.
My limp body slammed against the panel.
A dull thud.
Ethan heard it.
Not only did he not sense something was wrong—he actually laughed.
"Listen to that. Still got the energy to throw things and pitch a fit."
"Guess it's not hot enough in there. Her princess syndrome isn't cured yet."
He pointed at a few guys from the logistics crew.
"Go grab those old insulation tarps from the warehouse."
The guys froze in place, exchanging uneasy glances.
No one moved.
"Did you not hear me?"
Ethan's voice dropped a few degrees colder.
His gaze swept over them with authority.
They didn't dare refuse. They forced themselves to jog toward the warehouse.
Before long, they came back carrying several heavy, worn-out tarps.
"Cover the ventilation louvers on top."
Ethan pointed at the storage shed's only ventilation opening—a narrow slat near the roof.
The guys gritted their teeth.
They climbed onto a stone block nearby and draped the heavy tarps over the louvers.
Then tied them down tight with rope.
The last bit of circulating air was completely cut off.
The temperature inside the storage shed continued to climb.
The smell of blood grew thicker and more pungent in the sealed space.
My consciousness drifted in the dark.
I could no longer tell if I was still breathing.
Only the faintest sensation lingered in my fingertips.
Like a drowning person clutching the last straw.
Outside, Ethan surveyed the completely sealed ventilation opening.
He dusted off his hands with satisfaction.
"Doesn't she love hiding away from the work?"
"Then let her sit there nice and quiet."
"Grind that spoiled princess attitude right out of her bones."