Carlin's bedroom was simply furnished.
She lay prone on the bed, her voice trembling slightly.
"I'm a little scared... can you be gentle when you start with the needles?"
Veil shook his head.
"No. I have to use force. Only with enough pressure—and enough pain—can it be effective."
"Don't worry," he added lightly, "the pain's only intense at the beginning. After a while, you'll get used to it."
"Hsss... it hurts. It really hurts," Carlin gasped, lifting her delicate chin and letting out a cry of pain.
Standing nearby, the proprietress couldn't bear to watch.
"Carlin's scared of pain," she said, heart aching. "Maybe... maybe don't press so hard?"
Veil's hand steadily moved, inch by inch, massaging up from Carlin's slim calf. From time to time, he inserted a slender silver needle into precise spots.
Every time a needle was placed, every time his hand moved upward, Carlin would draw in a sharp breath. Beads of fine sweat appeared on her smooth, porcelain forehead.
