Adam lifted his hand slightly, interrupting the charged silence. His tone was calm, but the words he spoke struck like thunder.“Mr. Lazarus is right. Six months is indeed a short time. However—” He paused deliberately, letting the tension build. “—if you wait that long, your destroyed core may become completely irreparable.”The room froze.Julian’s breath hitched. His pupils shrank as he lunged forward and grabbed Adam by the arms, forgetting all decorum. “What did you say?!” he demanded, his voice trembling. “You mean… my core can be restored?”For years, Julian had resigned himself to being a cripple—someone who could neither cultivate nor rise above ordinary men. Regaining basic function had already felt like a miracle. The idea of repairing his core entirely was something he had never even dared to imagine.“Dr. Miracle,” Lazarus said slowly, his usually composed face betraying both disbelief and restrained excitement, “repairing a destroyed core is unheard of. Even ancient sect

“Rest assured, Mr. Lazarus,” Adam said calmly, his voice steady though his face still carried a trace of fatigue. “As long as I can recover my vitality, repairing your son’s condition will not be a problem. However…” He paused briefly, then added meaningfully, “I am concerned that Ms. Marlowe may not be willing to cooperate.”Lazarus’s eyes flickered, but his tone remained firm. “That’s not something you need to worry about. I’ll handle it myself.” He rose to his feet and said decisively, “I’ll have her come to you tonight.”With that, he turned and left, Julian following close behind, his expression filled with barely concealed hope and impatience.⸻Whitney was seated in the living room of the Marlowe residence, idly scrolling through her phone when a servant informed her that Lazarus wanted to see her immediately. Sensing something unusual, she stood up and headed over at once.“Dad,” she said as she approached him, her brows knitting together. “You called me over so urgently. Did

But Adam was in no hurry.He stood beside the bed for a long moment, his expression unreadable, as if weighing something heavy in his heart. With deliberate restraint, he lifted only the edge of her dress enough to confirm her condition, his touch brief and controlled, devoid of indulgence. A faint ripple of spiritual energy flowed from his palm, sinking into her body like a warm current.Moments later, the effects of the sedative were forced out.Whitney’s eyelashes fluttered. Her brows knitted together as confusion crossed her face. Then her eyes snapped open.She froze.The unfamiliar room. The bed beneath her. Adam standing a short distance away.Her breath hitched. She scrambled backward until her back hit the headboard, panic flashing in her eyes. “How did I get here?” she demanded. “What did you do to me?”Adam took a step back, deliberately widening the distance between them. “Relax. I didn’t touch you in the way you’re thinking,” he said calmly. “You were drugged. Your father

Romeo’s expression turned openly disdainful.“Don’t insult me by trying to brush me off with those mediocre women,” he said coldly. “I don’t touch leftovers that anyone can have.”He leaned back slightly, his eyes narrowing with naked greed.“Let me make this very clear, Mr. Marlowe. Your daughter is mine. Whether you agree or not is completely irrelevant.”Lazarus slammed his palm against the armrest and stood up abruptly.“Mr. Trey, you’re crossing a line!” he roared, his eyes blazing with fury.Romeo merely chuckled, his gaze filled with contempt.“Crossing a line?” he repeated mockingly. “You should consider yourself fortunate that I’m still speaking to you politely. If you truly anger me, you know very well what will happen to the Marlowe family.”Lazarus’s fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. His entire body trembled with restrained rage. At that moment, he truly wished he could kill Romeo with a single strike.But reality was cruel.The Marlowe family might

Whitney hurriedly pulled on her clothes, her hands trembling just slightly as the memories of what had happened rushed back. She took a deep breath, steadied herself, and yanked the door open. “Whitney!” Lazarus froze in place, his eyes widening in disbelief. She was standing upright. Awake. Clear-eyed. That shouldn’t have been possible. The sedative he had personally administered was one of his strongest formulas—enough to knock out a fully grown man for more than forty-eight hours. Without an antidote, she should have been unconscious, helpless, and unmoving. Yet here she was, alive with anger burning behind her gaze. “Whitney… I—” Lazarus swallowed hard, forcing a strained smile. “I’m sorry. I truly am. But I had no choice. Everything I did was for the good of the family. Please, try to understand. I promise I’ll make it up to you.” Whitney stared at him for a long moment. Then, slowly, her lips curved into a cold, sarcastic smile—one that held no warmth, no forgiv