Uncle Scar exerted a bit of pressure, trying to push the tip of the needle into the boy's skin.
But the slight resistance he expected from a needle breaking the skin never came.
The sharp metal tip, just like every blade before it, passed straight through without obstruction, as if piercing nothing but empty air.
Uncle Scar frowned and applied more force, driving the needle forward.
The needle passed effortlessly through the boy's neck and emerged from the other side, but the force of the thrust caused the syringe's plunger to slide back a little on its own.
HISS!
A viscous, dark purple fluid shot from the tip of the needle. It passed directly through the "phantom" of the boy's neck and splattered onto the filthy stone slab below, letting out a faint sizzle. It was quickly absorbed by the rough stone surface, leaving behind only a small, dark, wet stain.
