The faint creaking of the steel cables, pulling the elevator car, echoed from above.
Li Cheng was pressed into a corner of the elevator by an invisible force, slightly suspended in the air, with his legs and arms together, his body rigid and leaning backward, forming a seventy-five-degree angle with the ground.
What does this mean, the mental asylum kids standing at attention?
Li Cheng's mind raced. This posture strongly resembled someone still strapped into a restraint jacket, in a state of custody.
He struggled to twist his head, using his right eye fitted with a green contact lens, to look toward the elevator wall, and indeed, he saw some vague reflections in the metallic surface.
In the reflection on the wall, he was wearing that white restraint jacket, with a hood on his head, and his body was securely tied to a tiltable stretcher with pulleys by a series of straps.
Flanking the stretcher were two towering orderlies with blurry faces.
