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The grilled fish must have physically pained Vance somehow because at the fifth spoon, he was sobbing in agony and begging desperately.

"Please, no more. I will do anything. I promise. Please," begged Vance, crying his heart out. If one did not what he looked like right now, one might think he was being tortured mercilessly.

If his limbs were not chained to the wall, he might be on his knees, begging for his life to be spared although no one was trying to kill him. They were only feeding him grilled fish, which in Melva's opinion quite delicious, even if a bit charred due to inexperienced workers. It was still edible at least.

Melva's hand stopped in its tracks on the sixth spoon. It started shaking right in front of Vance's wet face, tears flowing down his cheeks. She was hurting him. Whatever the food did to him, it severely hurt him. Something inside of her found it difficult to continue after knowing how badly the food affected his body.