Chapter 1

I stood on the hotel rooftop, feeling utterly hopeless. Watching the endless stream of cars and ant-like pedestrians on the street below, I was once again reminded of how small and insignificant I was.

Yes, small.

My girlfriend is very beautiful. Her name is Wendy Holland. Earlier today, she told me she had a group meeting and might sleep at the dorm tonight. I didn't suspect a thing. Not long after, I spotted her at the Four Seasons Hotel below me.

Even when I saw her walk into a room with a man with my own eyes, I still refused to believe it. I dawdled for over an hour, then went up to the hotel rooftop, took out my phone, and called her.

The call connected. There was a lot of noise on her end. Breathing heavily, she asked what I wanted.

Through the receiver, I heard a clamor of car horns. I asked where she was, why it was so noisy. She said she was at the campus, that her advisor was holding the group meeting, and she had snuck out to take the call.

I said nothing. From the receiver came the sound of honking, mingled with faint panting and strange, rhythmic noises. She, noticing my silence, impatiently told me to hurry up and say what I wanted.

There were countless words I wanted to say, but they all got stuck in my throat. In the end, I only asked, "Are you coming back tonight?"

"No, I'm not. I'm busy, so if that's all, I'm hanging up..." On the last two words, her voice trembled, as if she was gritting her teeth, trying to endure some kind of impact.

Only the dial tone remained after that. I stared at the Mercedes honking persistently downstairs, yet in my mind, I was still pathetically making excuses for her.

Maybe there was an equally impatient driver honking at the campus gate? Maybe that driver's honking frequency was exactly the same as the one downstairs?

Or perhaps, it was the other possibility... My girlfriend was on the balcony of a hotel room, passionately entangled with another man. Even while taking my call, she was engaged in that shameless act.

That man must be a freak. He was the one who made Wendy answer my call. Doing it on the balcony must have been his idea too, otherwise the honking wouldn't be so loud...

I was calmly analyzing everything in my mind, yet my heart ached to the point of suffocation. I squatted down, picked up a parcel by my feet, and opened it. Inside were an unopened syringe and a bottle of clear, pale yellow liquid.

I hadn't been idle during that hour of procrastination. I'd bought the maximum dosage of propofol I could from an anesthesiologist I knew who did freelance work.

I brought this box of medicine to the rooftop before making that call to Wendy. If she had been honest with me and had asked for forgiveness, I would have thrown away the medicine and gone home.

Unfortunately, she hadn't.

Propofol is a fast-acting and potent anesthetic, often referred to as "milk" in hospitals. It's usually used for surgical anesthesia.

Injecting a small amount of propofol can induce peaceful sleep and a pleasant mood. Frequent or large doses can lead to addiction.

Due to severe insomnia, I sometimes injected myself with a small amount of propofol to get a good night's sleep. I never told Wendy about this. I usually did it on nights she stayed over at school for experiments.

My inner anxiety and pain could only be alleviated this way since they couldn't be soothed by my girlfriend.

In the past, I'd only injected a tiny bit each time, carefully controlling the dosage. However, deep down, I had fantasized about increasing the dose. If I did, I might be able to leave this world in that state of pleasure and tranquility, without any pain.