Because of my terrible reputation, the prison ignored his abuse and even allowed him to use non-lethal methods if it meant getting the truth faster.

No one expected that even when I nearly died many times, I still never gave in. Now, memory extraction was my only hope.

Vincent shaved my head, then, without any anesthesia, forced a five-centimeter metal connector into my skull. I shook in pain and foamed at the mouth, but he ignored it and even refused the doctor’s offer of a sedative.

“This animal won’t die so easily! I want him to watch the killer he’s protecting get exposed in the most painful way!”

At his command, the memory extraction started. The first scene appeared: a university library, coming into focus.

I sat by the window reading. When I looked up, Tasha was tiptoeing to place a copy of The Little Prince beside me.

In my memory, I touched her hair. She leaned on my shoulder and said softly, “After you graduate, let’s rent a small place. I’ll cook, you wash the dishes and on weekends we’ll go to the morning market together, okay?”

The scene then shifted to a small rented room, its narrow kitchen filled with the smell of scallions.

“Wash your hands! I got paid today and bought your favorite braised pork knuckle!” I said as I hugged her from behind.

“Beep! This fragment is marked as top-priority memory,” the cold, mechanical voice said. The courtroom instantly stirred.

“You beast! How dare you think of this? Tasha fought with her family to be with you and gave you everything! And this is how you repay her? Disgusting! Looking at these happy memories, doesn’t your conscience hurt? When she was screaming for help, were you still thinking about this? Do you deserve anything?!”

Insults filled the courtroom and people threw rotten eggs and vegetables at me again.

The bailiffs moved in again to control the crowd, but people looked ready to break through, their angry shouts ringing in my ears.

Vincent kicked me hard and I crashed to the floor. My knee slammed into the tiles, the pain almost numb.

“Erickson!” he shouted coldly. “You still dare to remember these things? You have no right!”

Lying on the ground with blurred vision, I saw my in-laws. My mother-in-law collapsed into her husband’s arms, crying, while he held her with shaking hands and looked at me as if I were a monster.

“If Tasha knew what you were really like, she’d rather die than marry you!”

The memory continued. It was the day we took our wedding photos. Tasha, in her wedding dress, spun on the lawn with her arm linked through mine.

“Enough!” Vincent shouted, grabbing the metal connector on my head. “Turn off the machine! I won’t let him remember any of this!”

The technician rushed to stop him. “Captain Newton, no! If you interrupt it now, it will cause permanent brain damage!”

“Brain damage? He deserves it! Why should he enjoy these happy memories now? Tasha has been in the ICU for five years and he’s here thinking about the good times. Isn’t that ridiculous?!”

The shouting grew louder. Some yelled for me to die, others called me selfish and cold-blooded.

I lay on the ground with blood at my lips, but those memories kept replaying in my mind. The memories that once kept me going were now the sharpest knives hurting me.

“You don’t understand! You don’t understand at all!”

“Don’t understand? What’s there not to understand!” Vincent grabbed my hair and smashed my face into the floor.

“We know you hid in the study while your wife was attacked! We know you protected the killer for five years! We know Tasha is still unconscious! What else do you have to say?” My forehead hit the floor, blood blurring my vision.

I knew everyone hated me; my cowardice, my protection of the killer and the harm done to Tasha. But I couldn’t speak. I really couldn’t. Some truths were more terrifying than death.

I pulled out a hidden porcelain shard I’d taken from a bowl in the detention center. When his grip on my hair loosened, I moved quickly and cut my own neck.

Warm blood poured down my neck. It was over; no more torture, no more risking that terrible truth being exposed. “Tasha, I’m sorry… this is the only way left to protect your dignity.”

“Stop him!” Vincent shouted and a strong force knocked me to the ground.

The bailiffs pinned me down. Vincent crouched, watching the blood from my neck. “Erickson, do you want to die? It’s not that easy!”

He grabbed my collar, his voice harsh. “You’ll stay alive, even barely, until I find the murderer and Tasha wakes up!”

The doctor rushed over with gauze and tools to quickly bandage my wound. Vincent stood aside and ordered sharply, “Give him a heart stimulant and a clotting shot. Do whatever it takes. Keep him alive!”

“Captain Newton, that dose is too high; it could seriously harm his nerves,” the doctor said, hesitating.

“Damage?” Vincent sneered. “Trash like him doesn’t matter. As long as he stays alive until we find the truth, even if he ends up brain‑dead, I don’t care!”

The doctor didn’t argue, took a syringe, drew the drug and injected it into my vein. The drug flowed through my veins, quickly reaching my whole body.

My heart raced, my muscles stiffened and I struggled to breathe. The bailiffs helped me back into the chair.

The gauze on my neck soaked up blood again, but the drug kept me alive; I couldn’t even faint.

“Keep extracting!” Vincent ordered the technicians coldly.

The technician nodded and restarted the machine. The metal connector felt like a sharp thorn in my head, buzzing as the machine ran.

I could feel a cold force invading my mind, pulling at my memories and trying to take the buried pieces. I fought with all my strength. I couldn’t let it win.

“Warning! The subject is resisting memory retrieval!”

“Warning! Brain waves are abnormal and erratic!”

“Warning! Brain pressure is rising above safe levels!”

The machine kept warning loudly and the screen images warped. Precious memories cracked again and again.

Veins stood out on my forehead and cold sweat mixed with blood at the corner of my mouth, dripping to the floor. My head throbbed with sharp pain; each pulse was agony.

“No! We can’t keep going!” an expert shouted. “Captain Newton, if this continues, he’ll die! He’s just a suspect, not the murderer. We can’t take his life!” Others quickly agreed.

“Yes, we must keep him alive. If he dies, we’ll never find the real murderer!”

“He’s awful, but he doesn’t deserve to die. We should follow procedure.”

But many others disagreed.

“Procedure? Did he think about procedure when protecting the murderer? Tasha’s been in the ICU for five years. Who cared about procedure then?”

“It’s better if this scum dies. At least we won’t waste food. As long as we catch the murderer, his death doesn’t matter!”

“Yes! Kill him! Avenge Tasha!”

The scene fell into chaos again as the two groups argued and even shoved each other. The livestream chat exploded with comments from both sides and the viewer count shot past two hundred million.

Vincent looked at my twisted, pained face. A brief hesitation flashed in his eyes, then turned into pure hatred. He suddenly pulled out his gun and fired into the ceiling.

“Quiet, all of you!” The gunshot stopped every argument and the room went silent. “Even if he dies today, I will uncover the truth! My sister’s pain will not be for nothing!”

He turned to the technician. “Set the machine to full power! And bring me the strongest neurotransmitter!”

The technician, pale and unsure, said, “Captain Newton, full power already exceeds human limits. Adding more neurotransmitters will burn his brain!”

“Do as I say! I’ll take full responsibility!”

The technician, too afraid to refuse, adjusted the machine with shaking hands. Another officer came with a syringe of blue liquid and gave it to Vincent.

Vincent took the syringe, came to me, tore open my uniform collar and injected all the liquid. The neurotransmitter was far stronger than I expected. As soon as it was injected, it felt like a bomb exploded in my brain.

All my defenses collapsed. The machine’s power flooded my mind, violently stealing my memories. I screamed, my body shaking uncontrollably.

Blood and white foam poured from my mouth; the pain in my head was unbearable. I felt myself slipping into unconsciousness, my body growing so light it seemed I might float away.

But Vincent didn’t notice my suffering, his eyes glued to the screen. “Keep going! Don’t stop! I want to see the crime scene! I want to know who the murderer is!”

The machine’s warnings became louder and more urgent.

“Warning! The subject’s brain is failing fast!”

“Warning! Brain death expected in three minutes!”

“Warning! Stop the extraction immediately!”

But no one stopped. They all wanted to know the secret this man had hidden while protecting the murderer for five years.

My shaking worsened; my body felt drained and I slowly collapsed. My mind was fading and confused.

The machine kept digging, pulling out the deepest memories from my heart. I tried to resist, but my body wouldn’t obey.

Suddenly, the flickering on the screen stopped and all the fragments formed a clear image.