Chen was dragged forcefully into a dim scanty room, his body limp and battered from the merciless beating inflicted upon him by the Mafia gangs. Chen's clothing hung tattered, stained with dirt and his own blood. Deep gashes marred his skin, oozing crimson trails down his arms and legs. His face was a grotesque canvas of bruises, swollen and disfigured with blood trickling from his split lips. His total appearance bore the unmistakable signs of a brutal encounter.
Every movement was an agony, every breath a struggle. With each painful step, Chen's body trembled, his weakened frame struggled to maintain balance. He had been caught, his attempts to elude the Mafias proving futile.
As he stood before the Mafia Boss, Chen's gaze remained downward, unable to meet the penetrating eyes that held both authority and a sinister air. Blood continued to trickle from his split lips, staining his chin as a painful reminder of the violence he had endured.
