Blurb：
Wendy, a skilled mortuary cosmetologist, discovers the corpse she restored is Miles Chow's missing mother—hours before her wedding. But instead of sharing the truth, she’s kidnapped, drugged, and silenced. Dragged into a brutal underground fighting arena, her face disfigured and voice stolen by poison, Wendy is auctioned as a stress-relief toy.Through swollen eyes, she watches Miles Chow, her fiancé, kiss his new lover Yulia Sue amid cruel taunts. Mocking Wendy’s profession, Miles spends 200,000 to slap her 100 times. Worse, Yulia—a psychological consultant—eggs him on, twisting Wendy’s suffering into pleasure.
Betrayed and broken, Wendy endures electric shocks and bone-shattering torture, including "Inverse Bone Correction," as Miles coldly experiments on her living bones. The man who once cooked her soup now relishes her agony.
Can Wendy survive the arena’s horrors and expose Miles and Yulia’s deception? A tale of love twisted into vengeance, where the dead whisper secrets and the living bleed for lies.
Content：
I am a mortuary cosmetologist.On the eve of my wedding, I restored the body of an unidentified woman, only to discover it was Miles Chow's mother, who had been missing for days.
Before I could even deliver this devastating news, I was kidnapped and dragged to an underground fighting arena.
They disfigured my face, silenced me with poison, and, after drugging me, bound me on stage to be auctioned off as a stress-relief toy.
Through eyes swollen to slits, I saw Miles Chow embracing his new lover, locked in a passionate kiss amidst the raucous jeers:
“Miles, is Sister-in-law probably playing with corpses again? No wonder you're here celebrating your bachelor party with the new girl!”
After the kiss, Miles Chow reluctantly released the woman in his arms, saying with callous indifference:
“Wendy finds pleasure in corpses, and I find it in Yulia's embrace. To each their own! I'm to be married tomorrow, so I must ensure Yulia's happiness tonight!”
As the Fighting Arena announced the methods and prices for stress relief, I desperately tried to signal Miles Chow, but he misinterpreted my actions as flirtation.
Repulsed, he spent 200,000 to win the privilege of slapping me one hundred times.
Miles Chow was invited onto the stage, yet he refused to even spare me a glance.
He donned the special gloves offered by the host and began striking my face, left and right.
By the twentieth blow, my eardrums were ringing.
A warm liquid traced a path from the corner of my mouth, indistinguishable from saliva or blood.
Miles Chow flexed his wrist, then turned to Yulia Sue in the audience, offering a sickeningly sweet smile:
“Yulia, why don't you come up and have a go? It's wonderfully cathartic!”
“Besides, these people are just defaulters who couldn't pay their gambling debts; it's incredibly satisfying to beat them!”
Yulia Sue hid her mouth behind her hand, shaking her head, though her eyes betrayed a gleam of excitement.
“Miles, you do it. It's enough for me to watch you hit her!”
The excitement and taunt in her eyes made me wonder if she knew who I was.
I strained to open my eyes wider, the tape sealing my mouth muffled my desperate whimpers.
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The End