In the morning, the news channels barely covered the incident that destroyed the Sterling Blood Bank.

Two-thirds of the building was destroyed. Not a single blood packet could be salvaged. Only some of the metal cots and some other tools were eventually recovered from the rubble.

It wasn’t a big building, but Charles had built it for himself as well as for the citizens, so seeing it go down in flames left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Charles kept receiving many calls from different investors and even the Myers family, but he just wasn’t in the mood to answer.

Hours passed, but he just sat on a bench by a footpath and was staring aimlessly all around. His clothes were torn and covered in blood, so people avoided him, thinking he was either a beggar or someone carrying some sort of disease. Some called the police, but after the police learned about his identity as Charles, they left him to his devices.

Charles again kept staring at the fallen building. He had no idea if it was coinc