Chapter 413 Silent Poison
In a quiet nook, Oliver's small figure was curled up, visibly in agony. He couldn't suppress the dry heaves, his bony hands pressed against his lips. When he released his hands, they were stained with blood.
Contrary to his usual behaviour of reacting dramatically to minor injuries, he appeared composed as he observed his bloodied hands. He methodically rubbed them against his clothes repeatedly, gradually turning his grey shirt a deep shade of crimson.
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