On the day before the competition, someone knocked me out when I was on the street before locking me up in a cage.

For three days and three nights, I was chased around by a ferocious dog that kept biting and attacking me. Because of that, my wounds began leaking pus due to infection.

Later on, five rich ladies had me locked up in a room. After chaining me up like a dog, they began tormenting me out of fun.

When I finally got rescued, I had suffered from countless fractures. Even my internal organs went out of place from the beatings.

My older sister, Claire Bowman, whom I'd been relying on since young, had me sent to the hospital immediately. There, I received a rabies vaccine.

Meanwhile, my fiancee, Heather Vega, killed the mutt right in front of me in order to help me exact vengeance. She also stripped those ladies down and put them through a humiliating parade in public. After that, she kicked them off to the slums, where they became playthings for the beggars.

But as I was lying on the hospital bed, I accidentally overheard Claire and Heather's conversation.

"Do you think Christopher will resent us if he ever finds out that we're the ones who've set the dog and the ladies on him just so we can make Samuel the winner of the competition in order to repay him for his benevolence?"

Heather's tone was unusually icy. "Christopher's just a replacement for Samuel. This is his fault for not knowing his place and insisting on fighting over the top spot with Samuel! I'm just teaching him a lesson!

"Soon, I'll marry him in order to make it up to him. Then, I'll take care of him for the rest of his life. This is already enough."

I did my best to hold my tears back while feeling my heart throb in pain.

It turned out that the most important women in my life were also the ones who had ruined my lifelong dream.

Since they didn't care about me at all, I chose to abandon them as well.

The doctor studied the report, his expression grave. "Ms. Vega, Mr. Bowman has multiple fractures all over his body. If he doesn't get treatment right away, he won't be able to race again."

My fiancee, Heather Vega, replied coldly, "He won't be needing the treatment. Christopher has a healthy, strong body. I'm sure he'll get better on his own."

The doctor tried to reason with her. "Fractures don't heal by themselves. The longer treatment is delayed, the worse his recovery will be later down the line."

Heather's impatience was becoming obvious as she snapped, "I said he'll be fine. Are you deaf or what? Don't you know overtreatment is illegal now?"

With how firm Heather was being, the doctor turned to me and sighed helplessly before leaving.

During those three days and nights of pure torture, those women had taken turns riding on top of me, and as they were as fat as pigs, they had bent my spine out of shape.

They struck me repeatedly with whips dipped in scalding oil, which aggravated my bite injuries so much that I blacked out from the pain more than once.

There were countless times when I wanted to bite my tongue and end it all in despair. But whenever I thought of Heather and my sister, Claire Bowman—their voices and their smiles—it gave me the will to hang on.

What I never expected was that the two women I trusted most were actually the ones behind my descent to hell.

I had endured all that inhuman torture without shedding a single tear, yet at this moment, tears streamed uncontrollably down my face.

It felt like my heart had been pierced by a thousand arrows, rendering me unable to breathe.

From behind the curtain, my elder sister, Claire Bowman, whispered, "Heather, aren't we being too cruel to Christopher? Racing is his lifelong dream."

In an icy voice, Heather said, "Don't forget that if Samuel hadn't saved us back then in that car accident, we'd both be dead right now.

"We're indebted to Samuel. Saying that he gave us a second chance at life wouldn't even be an exaggeration. And that's why I can't let Christopher get surgery right now. If he recovers, he'll be Samuel's biggest threat."

Hearing that made my heart ache painfully. So to them, Samuel Payne mattered a million times more than I ever did.

A while later, as I drifted off to sleep, someone pressed a pillow over my mouth all of a sudden. The moment our eyes met, I knew it was Heather.

As if afraid I'd recognize her, she switched places with someone else. But when I saw the birthmark on the other person's neck, cold sweat broke out all over me. It was Claire.

Without warning, the Achilles tendon in my right ankle was severed, and the muscles in my calf were sliced.

My whole body trembled uncontrollably, but I couldn't move at all due to my injuries.

I screamed in agony, but the pillow muffled my voice completely. No one came to save me.

In that moment, despair overwhelmed me. For a racecar driver, losing one's right leg meant one could never hit the brakes again, and one's career was over from then on.

Just then, Claire brought over a syringe and injected something into my arm. Heather immediately snatched it away. "Why are you giving him anesthesia? Christopher's a grown man—he can handle this bit of pain."

Afraid I had recognized her voice, Heather grabbed a nearby vase and smashed it hard against my head out of panic. Everything went black immediately.

When I woke up again, my head had already been bandaged. Heather and Claire were by my side, looking worried.

Seeing that I was awake, Heather quickly comforted me. "Christopher, don't be scared. The families of those women must have come to take revenge earlier. I've already had people take them in."

Claire went along with Heather, telling me not to worry and that they'd stay by my side. It felt like my heart was being crushed by a giant hammer, causing it to bleed profusely.

The very people who had just hurt me were now pretending to care about me. At that moment, I didn't even know what in this world was real anymore.

I stared at the ceiling in despair, my eyes vacant.

Heather seemed to notice something was off about me. She hurried over, took my hand in hers, and said, "Don't be scared, Christopher. With Claire and me here, no one can hurt you."

Claire came closer to me as well, speaking in a gentle voice. "Don't worry, Christopher. Even if you can never get out of bed again, we'll take care of you for the rest of your life."

My injuries started aching again when I heard that. I remembered how hard it was when I first began racing.

Our parents died in a car accident when I was seven, leaving behind the ten-year-old Claire and me.

For my survival, Claire had to work three jobs a day. She even denied herself proper meals and gave me the only bit of meat she had.

When I got older, I happened to see a racing competition one day, and winning came with a big cash prize.

I signed up right away, hoping to give Claire and me a better life. I trained day and night. There were times the car flipped over, and countless times I brushed shoulders with death.

Later, while I was out shopping, I saved Heather when she collapsed from low blood sugar by the side of the road. To thank me, she became my girlfriend.

At the time, I was always busy training, so she would often visit me with lots of good food. My team members often jokingly called her Mrs. Bowman.

When I had finally gotten the first prize money of my racing career, I excitedly shared the news with them. They both hugged me, telling me that my health and safety mattered more to them than anything else.

Before all of this had happened, I truly believed I was the happiest person in the world.

It wasn't until right before this race when I was knocked out and taken away that I finally understood what it felt like to be betrayed by the people closest to me.

The scars on my body would fade in time, but the wounds in my heart would never heal.

Heather came over with a bowl of beef stew. "Christopher, have some stew. It'll help you with your recovery."

The moment I saw the meat in it, my stomach turned. I never liked the taste of beef. The one who liked beef was Samuel.

Claire realized it at that moment and snatched the bowl away. "Heather, did you forget that Christopher doesn't eat beef? Give that to me."

Heather tried to make amends by hugging me. However, the moment I came into contact with a woman, the PTSD I had developed from what those women did to me made my body start to tremble uncontrollably as I recalled those horrible memories.

They had stepped on the wound where I had lost my kidney with their high heels and used their long nails to scratch patterns into my skin just to satisfy their twisted desires.

I started coughing violently as if I were suffocating until a mouthful of blood came out.

Startled, Claire wanted to summon a doctor, but Heather stopped her. "His throat's just a little irritated. We'll just get him some honey and lemon water, and he'll be fine."

With that, they left. I closed my eyes in heartbreak. That wasn't just irritation at all. My throat had been scalded with hot water by those women, so it was covered in blisters.

After the nurse finished changing my IV, she quietly said to her colleague, "What kind of family are they? They're only giving him saline. They refused to put him on anti-inflammatory medication. The patient's never going to recover like this."

The other nurse whispered, "I heard the patient got in someone's way, so they'd rather keep him like this forever, even if he's barely hanging on."

My head spun when I heard that. I finally understood why I hadn't been getting any better.

Feeling crushed, I borrowed a phone from the nurse and called my racing coach.

After the call connected, hearing that familiar voice made tears stream down my face. "Mr. Hudson, I'm a cripple now. I'll never be able to race again."

My coach, Ross Hudson, comforted me. "It's okay. What is valuable will always be recognized. You can still put what you have left to good use, like me."

His words reignited my will to live. I said firmly, "Wait for me, Mr. Hudson. Once I recover, I'll go see you."

Just then, Heather abruptly came in, prompting me to shove the phone into the nurse's pocket as quickly as I could.

Heather shot the nurse a look, which made the nurse hurry off.

Claire, who came in after Heather, questioned, "Christopher, what were you doing just now? You're about to marry Heather. If you dare mess around, I won't go easy on you."

I stayed silent. After Heather and Claire gave me some honey and lemon water, Claire suggested taking me out for a bit of fresh air.

Before I could even say anything, they exchanged a glance and wheeled me out without another word.

After the car stopped in front of a bar, they helped me into my wheelchair.

Unexpectedly, Heather said she had forgotten to bring my prescribed medicine, so they drove off without me, leaving me shivering in the cold wind alone.

That was when a group of women in their 50s or 60s appeared not far off. The one leading the group, a woman with a pitted face, strode toward me.

"Ladies, I found us a fine catch. Come check him out."

A lecherous-looking woman eyed me hungrily. "Look at all his injuries. Doesn't he look endearing with how pitiful and delicate he is? I've never had the chance to mess around with a disabled guy before."

They dragged me into the bar, shut the private room door, and began pouncing on me.

The pitted-faced woman started a live stream. "Everyone, check out this little thing. Isn't he pathetic?"

Several women started pulling at my shirt. I screamed for help, "Somebody help me! Is there no law left in this world?"

Someone smashed a bottle on my head. "Who said you could scream? Can you afford to handle the consequences of ruining my mood?"

As my shirt was ripped off, the wound on my stomach was exposed. The pitted-faced woman looked disappointed. "So not only is he a cripple, but he's also missing a kidney!

"He can't even be considered a man anymore. Ladies, what should we do with this useless thing?"

The viewers in the live stream continued to grow, clearly enjoying the spectacle. "Tie him up and make him crawl around like a dog."

"Since he's useless now, just throw him in the river. Seeing people like him pisses me off."

Right then, the door was kicked open. Narrowing my eyes to see better, I saw that it was Claire and Heather.

Heather ordered her bodyguards to subdue the women while Claire hurried to drape her coat over me.

Though the women were grabbed, they showed no fear at all. On the contrary, they looked completely at ease, like actors after "cut" was called.

As Claire wheeled me out, Heather said the women would be punished appropriately. But when I rolled the wheelchair back and peeked through the glass into the private room, I saw Heather handing them money.

My heart dropped, as if it had fallen into an icy abyss. So they had done all of this on purpose. They just wanted to rub salt into my wounds over and over again.

After returning to the hospital, I stared blankly at the ceiling, overwhelmed with despair. I refused to eat, acting like a living corpse.

Suddenly, the TV began reporting the news. "Famous racecar driver Christopher Bowman was spotted in a bar with several women in their 50s and 60s. He seemed to have a very messy private life."

Claire tried to turn it off, but switched it to a different channel that showed Samuel giving an interview.

He held up the trophy that should have been mine. "I earned this trophy on my own merit. Hard work always pays off."

As the TV abruptly turned off, I grew so mad that I passed out from overwhelming fury.

When I woke up groggily, I heard Claire worriedly say, "Christopher's already traumatized… If we keep ruining him like this, he'll never recover."

Heather spoke in a cold voice. "Breaking him mentally is exactly what I want to do. He must never pose a threat to Samuel, even if I have to take care of him for life. After all, Samuel saved our lives."

Pain shot through my waist when I heard that. They had no clue that if I hadn't taken action during that car accident, they wouldn't even be alive right now.