Xiang Yu nodded, acknowledging his concern as he approached the cell door. Inside, he found a thin young man huddled on the ground, hugging his knees tightly. The boy's eyes were sharp and piercing, like a cornered animal ready to defend itself at all costs.
"Hey," Xiang Yu said, softening his voice as if coaxing a frightened child. "Don't worry, I won't hurt you."
But the young man's eyes glimmered with distrust and pain. He had heard those words before, words that led to the sting of long needles piercing his skin.
No amount of begging or crying had ever stopped the torturous cycle. It felt like a fire burning within him that refused to be extinguished, making him long for death, yet it never came.
When he saw the chance—when the restraints that had bound him for so long were removed, he lunged at Xiang Yu, a desperate instinct driving him. But to his shock, his attack faltered. It was as if Xiang Yu radiated an intangible barrier that rendered his powers useless.
