After Hugo exhausted all his strength, he too fell into a deep sleep. The intense physical exertion made it easy for him to sink into deep slumber without any dreams, just peacefully drifting into dreamland—until an urgent biological need forced him awake from sleep.
Opening his eyes, Hugo looked at the faint sunlight behind the hotel's thick curtains and realized it was already morning. No wonder he had been woken up by his usual need to pee. Turning his head, he glanced at Charlize lying beside him. Her bare face had a faint sheen of oil, yet she didn't look messy; instead, she exuded the happiness of a little woman in love. That slight smile on her lips made her pretty face glow with radiance.
Hugo looked away and quickly ran into the bathroom to relieve himself. But when he walked out of the bathroom, a wave of dizziness suddenly hit him, nearly making him fall. Luckily, he grabbed the sink just in time to steady himself. However, the dizziness in his head hadn't passed when a churning in his stomach followed right after, making him feel like he was about to throw up. He immediately turned back to the toilet and dry heaved into it, but nothing came out.
Leaning on the sink for support, Hugo endured the simultaneous waves of stomach nausea and dizziness. His body alternated between hot and cold, and he began sweating and tearing up uncontrollably, making his limbs feel weak and powerless. Pausing for a moment, Hugo immediately realized: the damn withdrawal symptoms were kicking in again.
Withdrawal reaction, simply put, refers to the intense physical discomfort experienced by someone who stops using heroin, producing immense pain that drives the user to desperately maintain their addiction just to avoid the suffering.
This had already happened once during the past ten days. The first time, Hugo was completely unprepared and collapsed to the ground, entirely overwhelmed by the pain, unable even to muster the strength to writhe. Fortunately, Joseph was there at the time—he'd seen Hugo like this before. With Joseph's help, Hugo nearly bit through his own teeth to endure the ordeal, finally making it through the first crisis.
In fact, addiction is more of a mental dependence—it's a person's weak willpower that leads to an attachment to that instant high. But as the addiction lasts longer and the body becomes more damaged, the physical dependence grows more severe, and the painful physical reactions increase the user's reliance on the drug, creating a vicious cycle that utterly destroys a person from the inside out. This cycle is perfectly embodied in heroin.
After Hugo transmigrated, his soul/mind had no attachment to the drug—in fact, he firmly resisted it. This made quitting drugs relatively easier for Hugo. Judging by his predecessor's condition, although the body had developed some dependency, it was only in its early stages and not too serious. As long as Hugo persisted, the addiction could be overcome without the need for rehab centers or nursing homes.
However, Hugo hadn't expected that the body would have another withdrawal episode today. If Charlize saw him in this state, it would not be good. Hugo didn't want her to witness such a miserable side of him because this wasn't him—not the real him. No matter if Charlize was willing to accept it or not, this wasn't truly Hugo. So there was no need to let her see it.
Hugo took a deep breath, turned on the faucet, splashed cold water on his face twice, then rinsed his mouth. He then staggered back to the room, resisting the increasingly intense withdrawal symptoms. He found his scattered clothes on the carpet and, while he still had the strength, quickly put them on—it took him at least three minutes—then, with stumbling steps, left the room.
Joint pain and muscle cramps intertwined with wave after wave of headaches crashed over him. Hugo's whole body felt like it had been dragged out of water. Nausea and wrenching stomach pain churned in his gut, and his strength was draining away little by little. Just reaching the elevator, Hugo stumbled and fell. Luckily, he had been cautious and grabbed the handrail in time, buffering the fall so it wasn't too serious. But getting up again cost him even more effort. Hugo no longer had the energy to curse his predecessor's foolish behavior—he had to focus all his strength on enduring the withdrawal symptoms.
This withdrawal episode wasn't as severe as the first one. The first time, Hugo couldn't even stand, completely paralyzed by the unbearable pain. If not for his mental resistance to drugs, he might not have held on. After surviving the first challenge, today's symptoms had obviously weakened a bit, so Hugo still had the strength to make it out of the hotel.
Staggering all the way to the lobby, Hugo—dripping with sweat—walked to the front desk, startling the staff. Thankfully, Hugo had strong willpower, quickly calmed them down, and asked them to call a cab for him. After waiting ten minutes, and with the staff's help, he finally got into the taxi. Hugo breathed a sigh of relief. He had gritted his teeth and endured all the way. If he had relaxed even slightly, he might have collapsed—just like during the first wave of addiction. Damn these withdrawal symptoms!
The sound of the door closing wasn't loud enough to wake Charlize. Last night had been her first time, and it had drained her energy. So she slept deeply and didn't notice the changes in the surroundings.
When Charlize woke up, she only saw an empty room. No matter how she looked, she couldn't find any trace of Hugo. This left her a bit stunned and caught off guard. In her view, everything had gone smoothly last night—perfect, even. But now it didn't seem that way: a man leaving without saying goodbye was never a good sign.
In disbelief, Charlize searched the entire room twice, inside and out. There was no trace of him, no note, no real signs left behind—it was as if everything from the night before had just been a dream. Only the messy bed sheets showed that it hadn't been. Charlize even wondered if Hugo had simply gotten up early to buy her breakfast and she was overreacting. Because whenever she recalled Hugo's warm and sunny personality, she couldn't believe he was the kind of man who would vanish after getting what he wanted.
Though she had only met Hugo twice, Charlize had a certain trust in his character. Otherwise, she wouldn't have lost herself in passion last night. Even if she had kissed him in a moment of confusion, had she sensed anything off, she would've used her remaining reason to stop everything. On that point, Charlize had absolute confidence—after all, if she were a reckless person, she would've long since been swallowed by the chaos of New York's dance scene or the darkness of L.A.'s modeling world. She wouldn't have made it to last night intact.
To Charlize, Hugo was different from most men. He was humble and courteous, gentle like jade, energetic and sunny, yet never overly arrogant or flashy. He didn't think with his lower body, and he never treated women as mere one-night stands. What happened last night came so quickly—it even caught Hugo off guard. Charlize could sense that.
She wasn't necessarily hoping to start a stable relationship with Hugo, but at the very least, she didn't want to wake up and find herself left behind—without even a goodbye. It made her feel cheap. What had really happened here? Or had she misjudged Hugo? Was he just another ordinary man after all? In this glittering and chaotic entertainment world, was it really so hard to find a genuine relationship that didn't come with strings attached?
Charlize felt her thoughts growing tangled. She sat in the hotel room for a whole hour, waiting, but still got no answer. She wanted to believe in Hugo, but the empty room gave her no chance to. She laughed at herself bitterly, "You're still too naive." She took a deep breath. Then another. Calming the storm inside her heart. Quietly, she told herself, "Don't blow this out of proportion. Don't. It was just one night. Nothing special. Actually, I was worried about how to deal with things after waking up. Now it's simple. No awkward interactions."
Charlize looked at the red dress Hugo had torn the night before. She stood in front of the bathroom mirror and took one last look. Then she ripped the torn hem off completely, giving the bottom of the dress an asymmetrical curve. The dress now looked less formal and a bit more bold and edgy. She turned to check her reflection, confirmed everything was in place, then returned to the room. She picked up her coat from the floor and put it on. After adjusting her breathing and suppressing the confusion inside her, she regained her confidence, held her head high, and walked out of the room.
At the same time, Hugo was lying at the stairwell on the ground floor of Joseph's apartment building, looking no different from a homeless man on the street. His whole body exuded a sense of despair and madness, completely motionless on the filthy ground. After getting out of the taxi, that short walk had exhausted all his strength. He could no longer hold on, finally defeated by the pain, collapsing in a stairwell filled with garbage and germs.
Hugo clenched his teeth tightly. In truth, he didn't feel any addictive craving. He didn't want to rely on any substances for relief. But this wave after wave of pain had drained all his strength. Tears and sweat made his face pale as a ghost. His stomach churned violently, and he kept dry heaving, unable to throw up anything—as if even his bile wanted to come out.
"I will never give in, never admit defeat, never!" Hugo tensed every muscle in his body, stubbornly holding on. He refused to yield to the withdrawal symptoms—no matter how severe they got, he wouldn't! And then Hugo's consciousness began to fade. Everything around him began to glow softly before disappearing into a blur of white light.
....
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