A heavy silence hung in the air as the call started ringing. Julian stared at Clara, stunned she’d actually gone through with it. Was being with him so unbearable that she’d rather pin her hopes on something impossible? He couldn't tell how he felt. But the sudden pain in his chest was unbearable. In Sheila's car, the vehicle was silent as it navigated the streets. Both figures appeared to be deep in their respective thoughts.Just then, the sound of a ringing tone cut through the air, shattering the silence.Robin picked up his phone, frowning at the unknown number. After a brief hesitation, he answered and put it on speaker, too tired to hold the phone to his ear.Just as he did, Clara's voice sounded through the speakers: "Hello, Robin."Sheila's gaze instantly snapped toward the phone, her brows narrowing. Wasn't that the voice of that girl back at the hospital? Why was she calling Robin? Had she not already make it clear Robin was hers?Meanwhile, Robin, hearing the voice, furro

The door to Lena's ward swung open and Chester, Robin and the rest walked in.At a corner sat Julian with his legs crossed, his expression nonchalant as if he owned the place. On sighting Robin, a sneer curled his lips. The punk was finally here. But he didn’t bother to stand to greet him—instead, he lounged deeper into his chair. Why would he greet him? The brat was his peer. If anything, he should be the one to greet him. This was the same reason he refused to go down with the others to welcome Robin. He felt such things were beneath him.No one paid him much attention anyway. As soon as they entered, Chester quickly led Robin to the bed. “Please, Mr. Ramsey,” he gestured nervously.“Really clinging to the hope that someone can wake the dead?” Julian remarked snidely, chuckling sarcastically. “I’ve never seen people so delusional.”“Julian, respect yourself!” Clara scowled.“Haha," he chuckled, completely unfazed. “I just can’t wait for your hopes to be crushed.” How sweet it would

A forbidden art?Never attempted before?Only a one percent chance of success?Each word from Robin seemed to drain the color from Chester’s face. His heart sank like a stone. Certainly because it was a forbidden art and its chance of success—that was the reason the art had never been tried before. So, if the odds were that low, how could Mr. Ramsey be sure it would even work? Still… as hopeless as it sounded, there was at least a sliver of possibility—and that was enough to cling to. Swallowing hard, Chester turned to Robin, his voice unsteady but earnest. “If… if it fails, what happens to my Miss?”“She’ll be gone forever,” Robin said plainly.Chester’s knees nearly buckled. His hands trembled, and his throat tightened as tears stung his eyes. He’d never known fear like this before, not even when he was facing the thugs from Abyssal Dominion.“H-how confident are you that it’ll work?” he managed to ask, his voice breaking.“I won’t know until I try."That vague answer made Chester’

Every head turned sharply toward the bed. There, before their disbelieving eyes, Lena, who had been pale as death and already declared dead, was slowly regaining color. Her skin, once ghostly white, now glowed with life. In fact, she looked even better than before—radiant, refreshed, almost ethereal. A wave of shock swept through the room. Mouths hung open. Hearts pounded. Did they just witness the dead return to life? A chill ran through everyone’s spine; their bodies trembled as if struck by lightning. Walter stood frozen, eyes wide, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. It was as though reality had turned into a fantasy film. His jaw went slack, disbelief etched across his face. Sheila was no different, her eyes widened, pupils dilating, her hand covering her gaping mouth in utter astonishment. Julian, who had just reached the door, stopped dead in his tracks. Horror filled his face as he turned to the bed, only to see Lena sitting up. “No… this can’t be real,” he mut

At Chester’s command, Julian’s face twisted through a storm of colors—dark, then purple, then green. The more he dwelled on what the bet required of him—kneeling before Robin, licking his shoes, calling him daddy—the sicker he felt. He was Julian! How could he possibly stoop that low? The mere thought of it was unbearable. How would he ever face anyone again? How could he look his friends in the eye after such a disgrace? No, he couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t do it. “What are you still standing there for? Didn’t you hear me? Or do you need me to make you move?” Chester’s cold voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “Uh…” Julian stammered, forcing an uneasy smile onto his face. “Mr. Chester,” he began smoothly, his tone suddenly flattering and polite, “we’re all mature adults here, aren’t we? Is there really any need to be so… petty? It was just a childish bet, nothing serious. I was only being foolish at the time. And besides, Miss Harmon just came back from the dead and healed of he