“I have something to take care of, so I’ll be leaving now.”
Brushing off Henry’s goodwill, Eric pushed through the crowd, eager to escape this troublesome place. His heart burned with frustration, while Alex stood off to the side, grinning like a cat that had just cornered a mouse.
In just a few minutes, this so-called “protagonist” had gifted him a massive 20,000 critical points. It was clear how much Eric was suffering inside.
— Bad Luck Talisman reigns supreme!
Eric squeezed past the gawking onlookers, desperate to slip away unnoticed—but how could Alex let him go so easily?
Stepping forward to block his path, Alex smirked. “Why the rush? You just saved someone father here! You might not want their money, but surely you wouldn’t refuse a gratitude they want to give you?”
“I—I don’t need it!” Eric stammered, his forehead damp with cold sweat. “I’ve always lived a humble life, indifferent to fame and fortune. Besides, I’m a doctor—saving lives is my duty. I ask for nothing in return, not even thanks or gratitude!”
Right now, all he wanted was to get the hell out of here. A meaningless gratitude was the least of his worries.
At that moment, Henry stepped out from the crowd. When he saw who was stopping the doctor, his expression shifted.
Most people here might not recognize Alex, but Henry, head of the Wade Family, known family in the city, certainly did. He didn’t know the full extent of Alex’s background, but one thing was certain: this was someone he couldn’t afford to offend.
With that in mind, Henry spoke with a respectful nod. “Mr. Alex is right. Mr. Eric, you saved my father’s life, and to my family, that’s no small favor. I understand you don’t care for money or rewards, but a gratitude is the least we can offer.”
“No, no, that’s really not necessary!” Eric protested, panic rising in his chest. He clenched his fists, barely restraining the urge to punch this meddlesome rich pretty boy in the face.
If looks could kill, Alex would be in a coffin by now.
Just as Henry was about to say more, a sudden commotion erupted from the crowd.
“Wait—why is he foaming at the mouth?!”
“He’s vomiting blood again!”
“Oh my god! He’s bleeding from his eyes, ears, nose—everywhere!”
A wave of horror swept through the crowd. Henry turned sharply, his face draining of color.
His father, who had just been lying there quietly, had stopped twitching—but now, thick, dark blood oozed from all seven orifices of his face. His skin had taken on a sickly, deathly pallor.
“Dad! Dad, what’s happening to you?!” Henry shouted, his voice cracking. Panic gripped him as he spun back toward Eric. “Mr. Eric! What’s wrong with my father?!”
Gasps and shrieks filled the air. Some people covered their mouths in shock; others squeezed their eyes shut, unable to stomach the gruesome sight.
Bleeding from all seven orifices…
Eric, who had been so eager to leave, felt his stomach drop. His heart pounded as he pushed his way back through the crowd and knelt beside the old man. With trembling fingers, he reached out to check his pulse.
The moment he felt it, his entire body went stiff. His mind reeled. How… how can this be? This is impossible! Absolutely impossible!
The old man pulse was fading fast, his life slipping away at an alarming speed. This pulse… Eric had never felt anything like it before—but he had read about it in his master’s medical texts.
A dead pulse. This was the pulse of a man whose body had already begun shutting down. Eric’s blood ran cold. How the hell did this happen?!
Henry’s eyes burned with fury. He shot forward and grabbed Eric by the collar, lifting him off the ground. “What did you do to my father?!”
Moments ago, his father had been unconscious but stable—there had still been hope. Now? With blood pouring from every orifice? This was no simple stroke.
His condition hadn’t just worsened. It had nosedived into something far, far worse.
“I—I don’t know!” Eric stammered, his mind a whirlwind of confusion. “I only performed standard acupuncture! I didn’t do anything else!”
Sure, there had been two small mistakes—he had inserted the needle into the Atlas vertebra point a little too deeply, which might have worsened the old man’s condition slightly… maybe even shaved a few days off his lifespan.
But this? This was something else entirely.
There was no way a minor mistake in acupuncture could have caused such a horrifying reaction. He couldn’t explain it. But one thing was crystal clear—he could not take the fall for this.
Then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted something that sent a fresh wave of dread crashing over him.
The five young men with different hair were still live-streaming the entire ordeal. The number of viewers had skyrocketed—tens of thousands of people were watching live.
If he didn’t do something fast, he was done for. He could already see the headlines. “A Fake Doctor Kills a Patient on the Spot!”
He could already see his future. Himself, in handcuffs. Him, behind bars. Him, becoming the newest star of the prison system.
‘No! This old man absolutely could not die here! At the very least, if he had to die, it needed to be in an ambulance or a hospital—not on a livestream!’
Eric made up his mind in an instant. Gritting his teeth, he yanked out his silver needles, ready to perform another round of acupuncture.
Seeing this, Henry completely snapped.
With a furious roar, he lashed out—BAM!—and sent Eric flying with a vicious kick.
“Haven’t you done enough damage?! You still want to stab my father with more of those filthy needles? What the hell did my father ever do to you?!”
The crowd was stunned.
Holy sh*t.
Holy sh*t.
HOLY SH*T.
This guy was a complete lunatic!
The old man was already bleeding from all seven orifices, yet Eric still wanted to continue? What was he trying to do—make sure the man didn’t leave this world with a single drop of blood left in his body?
“What kind of deep-seated grudge did he have against that man? He was torturing the A father right in front of his son!”
Inhuman. Absolutely inhuman.
Meanwhile, on the live stream hosted by the five dyed-haired youths, the chat had exploded after a brief moment of stunned silence.
“This is solid proof—he’s not just a fraud, he’s a murderer.”