Chapter One Hundred And Thirty-One:When This Is All Over, Only Then Will I Atone For My Mistakes.

Sharp light struck his visions when he woke up, that he had to cover his eyes with the back of his right hand when he woke up to realize where he was.

He's no longer in that prison where he has prayed for his death to come faster, rather he looked at his left side to see that a needle was inside his vein as he was receiving treatment, but from who?

The last thing Zyan remembered was running out of that damn place, the rest was fuzzy as there's nothing to help him figure out who the good samaritan, that saved him from the wicked hands of Christopher Russo was.

When he sat up on the bed, a wave of nausea washed over him that he had to crain his head down to allow blood to flow to his brain, since he was feeling tired and dizzy.

Eventually, he was able to get a grip of himself and wasted no time to rip the iv treatment he was receiving out of his hand, then stood up only to look at his figure in the mirror staring right at him.

He was a mess.