"Charlie! You need to come to the hospital now!" Fear and worry filled Nancy's voice. "Mother is dying, she needs blood." The urgency in her tone left no room for questions."I'll be right there," I assured her before hurriedly grabbing my jacket and keys.Halfway to the gate, I bumped into a woman."I'm so sorry, I didn't see you," I said, trying to wear my jacket while opening the gate."You?!" She looked shocked. Though I was in a hurry, I stopped to take a second look at her face."Do I know you?""That's not important now. But you... where are you off to in such a rush?""Look, I need to be at the hospital. If you have something to say, please excuse me." I made to walk away, but she blocked me."A hospital is no place for a war god," she whispered. I stopped.I turned back, frowning."I know your accident was a serious one, and you lost both your powers and your memory, but the hospital is no place for you.""What’s this all about?" I raised my voice slightly. She glanced around

"I'm done with this marriage madness that turns you into a maniac! You follow me everywhere and ruin every chance I have of moving on!" Nancy’s voice shattered the silence like a lightning strike, her eyes blazing with furious heat. The raw pain and frustration behind her words hung thick in the sterile hospital room, cutting deeper than any blade.I remained calm, though inside I was a storm, arms crossed tightly across my chest. “Then do me the honor of setting me free from this hell you called marriage. I’m equally tired—tired of being used, drained, and treated like I don’t exist.”She let out a sharp, bitter laugh, the sound bitter and harsh like breaking glass. “So now you suddenly have a backbone? Now you want out?”“I want peace,” I said evenly, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “If you have the divorce papers, hand them over. I’m ready.”Nancy’s eyes narrowed, her confidence flickering for just a moment—a glimpse of doubt hiding behind the fire. Then, without a word,

The moment I stepped through the glass doors of Skydome Pharmaceuticals, my breath caught. The lobby stretched wide and gleaming, its marble floors reflecting the chandeliers above like rippling stars. Gold-plated trim lined the walls, and the faint scent of sandalwood floated in the air. A giant LED screen displayed the company’s latest medical breakthroughs, but I barely noticed it.What froze me in place was the people. Rows of employees in tailored suits and lab coats stood at attention, bowing slightly as I passed. Their voices rose in unison, steady and deferential.“Welcome, Chairman.”Chairman.The word stabbed through me. My head throbbed, the echo of an identity I didn’t remember claiming. I looked around, searching for a smirk, a hint of mockery. But no—it was real. Their eyes held nothing but respect, even awe.Linda walked a step ahead of me, heels clicking against the polished stone like the beat of a metronome. Her presence was steady, a silent anchor amid my storm. “The

Linda led me through a private elevator that bypassed the main floors, descending into a wing few eyes had ever seen. The air was hushed, heavy with the sterile scent of disinfectants and the faint mechanical hum of life-support machines. The sign on the wall read: Skydome VIP Ward.“This,” she said, her voice low, “is where the untouchables come when money and power can’t buy them time. Foreign heads of state, billionaires, royalty. Their last hope sits here.”We stopped at the entrance of a glass-paneled room. Inside, a boy no older than seven lay pale on a hospital bed. His tiny chest rose and fell in shallow, fragile breaths, every exhale sounding like a whisper fighting extinction. His father, a man in a tailored suit whose aura screamed power, stood by the bedside, face carved with despair.I recognized him instantly—though not from memory, but from reputation. One of the city’s wealthiest magnates, a man whose signature could sway entire industries. And here he was, clutching hi

The whispers started before dawn. I heard them not with my ears, but through the subtle shifts in the air around Skydome—the way people paused when I walked by, the half-hidden glances of the staff, the muted tones of conversations that ended as soon as I entered the room. The boy’s recovery had already escaped the hospital walls and was spreading quietly through invisible channels.I’d been called many names before: fraud, beggar, son-in-law. But this name—the one now rising like a ghost—sent a chill through my blood.“The Warlord Doctor has resurfaced.”The words came to me from Linda, whispered under her breath as we stood in the glass-walled briefing room at Skydome’s headquarters. She had just ended a call from one of her contacts in the Ministry of Health. Her face was pale.“They’re already talking,” she said. “Business leaders. Politicians. Even syndicates. People you wouldn’t expect to care about a sick child—they’re all suddenly interested in you.”I stared at her, but my ref