Adrian watched the survivors shriek and scatter, cold-eyed, then brushed his hands together.That batch—done.Even if some were still breathing, they’d lost all will to fight.Tabitha stared, dazed, mouth open, while Daisy swallowed hard. “H-he’s… that strong? Over three hundred people—and he’s already won?”It wasn’t just Tabitha. Daisy and the driver, though they’d seen Adrian’s terrifying prowess before, still struggled to believe he’d taken down more than three hundred on his own.And without a scratch.It defied belief.The driver tapped the steering wheel. He could stop planning an escape.But his nerves remained taut as wire.Adrian glanced at the sealed car door, then at the driver.The driver understood at once: Adrian didn’t want them assuming it was safe and stepping out.He nodded quickly. He wouldn’t open the door. Not for anything.With his rear secured, Adrian’s gaze slid past the parked vehicles to the white van that had never opened its doors.An executive business mo

“Conrad Owen? You’re the sharpest of the Five Tigers, aren’t you?”Adrian regarded Conrad with a half-smile. He had already noticed it during the fight: Conrad showed up plenty, yet always at the most convenient moments. And when it was over and everyone was injured, Conrad had gotten off with the lightest wounds. How could that not be called clever?Among the more than three hundred men, Conrad was also, without question, one of the brightest. Otherwise, how else could he be the only one still standing there with ease?Conrad gave a fawning chuckle. “Mr. Adrian, you see, I was just following orders—and I barely lifted a finger. You’re a generous man. Why not let me go?”Seeing that Adrian wasn’t moved, yet didn’t look like he’d kill him outright, Conrad dared to take two steps forward.“Mr. Adrian, I can’t harm you in the slightest now. As long as you spare me, I swear—next time I see you, I’ll give you a wide berth. I won’t take a single step closer!”He was one oath short of callin

“The lobby’s in trouble. An elderly man is making a scene, rolling around and demanding to see Adrian—says he’s issuing a challenge. He’s old, and our people don’t dare lay a hand on him.”It was the receptionist on the line. Before Freya could speak, the girl had already laid out the situation—clearly urgent.Freya frowned. Looking for Adrian?“Did you find out who he is?”“No. Security is here, but they don’t dare act. He’s elderly; if he turns it around and accuses us…”“I understand.”Freya hung up, anxiety gnawing at her. When she turned, Adrian was already standing behind her. She jumped.“Are you part cat? You move without a sound. Nearly scared me to death.”Adrian scratched his head, sheepish. “I got up when I heard the call.” Freya sighed. “Reception says there’s a strange old man downstairs, insisting on challenging you… Where are you going?”“The challenge is on the table. I should at least take a look,” Adrian said, already heading for the door. A “little old man,” huh?C

“Isn’t that obvious? This old man’s technique is the real thing!”Lorenzo Watson was glowing with pride. The crowd was full of wonder; those who hadn’t been chosen looked stricken with regret.“What a chance to miss—I can’t believe I blew it!”“Me too. I wasn’t picked. I’ll be up all night kicking myself!”“Stop. I’d gladly have my arthritis flare up just to have Mr. Watson treat me…”Basking in the praise, Lorenzo beamed. “Kid, you see how formidable I am now, don’t you?”Adrian nodded, perfectly serious. “I do.”But before Lorenzo could enjoy it for a full minute, Adrian added, “Your technique isn’t flawless. You know the Positional Bone-Setting Method, but you don’t know when to leave room for breath.”“Medicine is like a person. Bone-setting without breath is like working without rest. The technique won’t ‘break,’ but it will remain superficial.”Lorenzo stared, astonished. Breath? He scratched his head. He’d practiced for decades, often feeling he was just shy of the key—especial

Adrian certainly didn’t need anyone to lead the way, but seeing that the others had already piled into the car, he resigned himself and followed.Skyline General Hospital, Emergency Department.Hurried footsteps tangled with urgent voices; warm blood soaked through the sheets, trailing off the bed and onto the floor.It was a race against Death. Every heart in the room was strung taut, no one daring to slacken.The metallic reek of blood went unheeded; there was only relentless, repeated effort.“Cardiac arrest—charge the paddles!”“The patient’s hemorrhaging massively. Notify the blood bank—now, now, now!”“What are you standing there for? Hand me the gauze!”Jasper Emerson didn’t bother to wipe the sweat beading on his brow. He rushed from one task to the next with the rest of the department heads, too frantic to think.Philip Mason had finally clawed his way into a position here; now he was in the ER, doing whatever was needed. Swallowing his nausea at the sight before him, he pass