2025-06-19 22:38:04"Who let you in here?!" the doctor yelled, nearly frothing at the mouth.
"I did! Is there a problem?" Rose said, rolling her eyes in irritation.
The doctor paused, then stuttered, like a broken record stuck on repeat.
"M-Ms. Tyrel, it is improper to just bring in anyone into the inner chambers of the Chairman; moreover, some... quack who claims he can heal your grandfather," the doctor said slowly, as if understanding her predicament but with a clear undertone of judgment.
But Rose scoffed. "Watch your tongue. I trust this man with my life, and so will I with my grandfather's," she said firmly.
The doctor sighed.
Dr. Mark, although a physician and vice president of the velkor medical association, knew far too well the severity of the Tyrel Family Head’s condition.
He was sure the old man wouldn’t survive until the next day.
Dr. Mark turned to watch Seth; Seth simply looked like a pretty boy with no respect for life or real medical knowledge—just exhaustingly plain.
The man figured Seth probably peaked in high school.
"I know that look," Seth said, smiling at the doctor. Seth walked closer, his smile widening, like a shark sizing up a particularly tasty seal.
He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a near whisper, making it so Rose couldn't hear.
"Jaundice in the eyes, elevated heart rate, delayed reflexes, mydriasis, slight tremor in your right hand, early signs of hair thinning..." Seth paused, his smile turning predatory.
"It seems you're taking medicine to help stop your erectile dysfunction."
Dr. Mark visibly startled, eyes widening like Seth had revealed his deepest, darkest secret.
“W-what?” he croaked in shock. How could he know?
But Seth continued, still whispering, "The side effects are obvious; you need proper treatment.”
Pinning the man with a cold gaze, Seth added, “I might even offer my services, but that will be another day.”
Leaning back, Seth wiped the menacing look off his face and raised his voice.
“Now, move aside so I can save the old man’s life!”
Dr. Mark stood stunned, the color draining from his face like someone pulled the plug.
It was all true, exactly as Seth had described. He felt a wave of shame and embarrassment wash over him.
Seth studied the old man on the bed carefully—sunken temples, a darkened forehead. He lifted the old man’s eyelid—yeah, definitely poisoned. And not your average toxin, either.
Seth narrowed his eyes, placed a hand behind the old man’s head, and pressed down hard. A faint stream of metallic-smelling clear fluid trickled from his nose—cerebrospinal fluid.
Rose stepped in quickly. “Can you save him? Is it bad?”
No answer.
Seth pulled a foldable device from his bag—cold, surgical metal—and clipped it to the old man’s skull. With practiced precision, he hit the switch. Blood started flowing into the brain in a steady, pulsing stream.
Mark muttered under his breath, “What a flashy stunt... Clearly bluffing with those toys.”
“Miss Rose, I’ve already contacted my mentor—Dr. Franklin. He’s on his way. Shouldn’t be long—”
“Grandpa!” Rose suddenly shouted.
The old man jolted up, coughing violently, eyes flying open like he'd been yanked back from the edge. His gaze locked onto Rose’s face—like he was seeing her from another lifetime.
Mark froze, stunned. The punk he just dismissed as a fraud had actually pulled it off.
He rushed forward, stethoscope trembling in hand—heart and lungs, normal. Too normal.
“This… This is insane…” he stammered. Then bowed. “Please accept my apology for earlier. May I ask—who trained you? I’ve been practicing medicine for over thirty years, and I’ve never seen anything like that.”
“You wanna know my master’s name? What, planning to go kneel at his door and call me ‘senior’?”
Seth smirked, peeling off his gloves, head tilted at the now starry-eyed Dr. Mark.
“Then do me a favor—watch this device. Don’t take it off. Three hours.”
“Wait, where are you going?” Rose and Mark blurted out in unison.
“To actually do something useful—whip up the meds he needs,” Seth said casually, tossing a lazy wave over his shoulder as he walked off.
Behind him, Rose's cheeks flushed just a little. Mr. Tyrel, now fully awake, stared after Seth’s fading silhouette with a mix of awe and curiosity.
“Well, looks like that kid just saved my life,” he said, eyes gleaming. “Make sure your father gives him one hell of a reward.”
---
"Where’s the patient? Let me get this over with!" A sharp voice rang out from the doorway as Dr. Franklin rushed in.
"Doctor, someone already treated Mr. Tyrel. A young genius doctor—"
“Bullshit!” Franklin snapped, cutting Mark off mid-sentence. “Mr. Tyrel isn’t suffering from some minor flu you can fix with a magic pill!”
He gave a polite nod toward Rose, then shot a quick glance at the supposedly dying old man—who was now sitting up looking shockingly alert.
“Dr. Franklin, I truly appreciate you coming all the way here,” Rose said, gesturing politely toward the door. “But as you can see, my grandfather is already awake thanks to Seth. He said he'd be back in three hours to finish the treatment. I'll make sure a generous gift is sent to your residence. Please, allow us to see you off.”
Franklin’s face darkened. Who the hell is this nobody, stealing my high-profile case?
“Waking a dying man isn’t hard,” he sneered. “You just pump him full of high-dose stimulants—hell, even a vegetable would open their eyes. The real question is how you cure him.”
“I’m starting to think that Seth guy is a fraud,” he spat. “Probably realized he couldn’t finish the job and ran off with the money!”
Rose’s heart sank. It had been over two hours since Seth left. And though her grandfather had seemed stable at first, he was clearly deteriorating now. What if Franklin’s right?
She quickly dialed Seth’s number. The call connected—but before she could say a word, he hung up on her.
Her expression hardened. “…What do you want to do?”
She exhaled sharply. In her mind, the scales tipped toward the trusted, world-famous Dr. Franklin.
“Surgery. Right now,” he said flatly.
Before anyone could stop him, Franklin slammed the switch on the machine. Mark tried to intervene but was too slow—red liquid in the tube reversed direction with a sudden rush.
A high-pitched alarm blared.
Mr. Tyrel’s body slumped. His eyes rolled back.
“Grandpa!” Rose screamed.
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Chapter 206: Structural Weakness.
Alex's POV Alex returned to the executive layers the way a ghost returns to a house that’s been renovated in his absence, the shape is familiar, the corridors still curve the same way, the access points still breathe open when he approaches, but the furniture has moved and the air smells like other people’s decisions.He had not been here since before the war ended.Not truly.Back then the place had been frantic, reactive, command rooms blooming like infections across the administrative floors, people running on caffeine and threat projections, emergency authority being stamped onto anything that could carry ink, now it was different, quieter, smoother, the panic had fossilized into protocol, every hallway padded with procedure, every door protected by three layers of justification before you ever reached a lock.This was where wars went when they were finished.Not to peace.To paperwork.Alex didn’t go to his old office.He went lower.To the infrastructural decks, where budgets w
Chapter 205: What Noel Sees.
Noel's POV Noel had followed convoys before.Government ones with polished armor and predictable escorts, corporate ones wrapped in false branding and private security, underground ones that pretended to be waste management while hauling sealed lives in reinforced containers, he knew the rhythms, the feints, the habits of men who believed movement itself was secrecy.This convoy was different, they had no insignia, no visible escort, no routes that made sense.Three vehicles, matte gray, unmarked, not armored enough to be military, not civilian enough to be ignored, they left a distribution depot that had been condemned eight years ago, one of those urban corpses that cities keep around because tearing them down costs more than pretending they’re dead, the depot sat at the edge of a reclaimed district where glass towers rose out of what used to be tenements, where parks were layered over old slums like green apologies.Noel had been tracking a minor evolved intake lead when the movem
Chapter 204: The Aide’s Office.
Seth's POVThe summons did not arrive through command channels.It did not pass through Alex, it did not appear on his operational board, it did not carry the formatting of military priority or executive urgency, it came quietly, threaded into a system notification that had nothing to do with meetings, a maintenance acknowledgment, a routine authorization update, a single embedded line that didn’t blink or escalate or demand attention, it simply stated that the President’s aide would see him at sixteen hundred, location attached, attendance expected.Seth read it once, then again, then closed the display without responding, already feeling the shift it created in the air around him, the faint sense that something had stepped closer without moving, he had ended a war, dismantled a revolutionary army, been elevated to a position most people never even saw from the outside, and yet this message carried mor
Chapter 203: The Weight of Old Men.
Seth's POVThe decision to go to General Cane did not arrive like inspiration, it arrived like pressure, subtle, constant, the kind that did not hurt at first but slowly reshaped whatever it rested against, Seth had spent the night after the confrontation with Virek pacing rooms that were designed to keep people seated, reviewing structures that were meant to be trusted, watching feeds that only showed what they were allowed to show, and through all of it ran the same awareness, power without anchoring corrodes into spectacle, momentum without counterweight becomes noise, and if he intended to take a country apart without letting it collapse inward, he would need someone who had already watched empires pretend they were permanent.Cane was not part of the new machine.That was exactly why he mattered.Arranging the meeting required layers of misdirection that would have once amused Seth, logist
Chapter 202: White Rooms and Quiet Wars.
Seth's POVThe room Seth chose was not underground.That mattered.Most of the spaces he used now were buried beneath layers of reinforced earth and dead signal zones, rooms designed for secrecy, for containment, for things that were not meant to be found again, but after leaving Virek, after feeling steel fade back into skin and the echo of that man’s pulse still lingering in his palm, Seth did not want another bunker, he wanted height, glass, distance from the illusion that depth meant safety.The conference room sat near the top of a private government tower, not one of the public ones, not the kind tourists took pictures of, but one built for people who preferred the city to look small, its walls wide and curved, windows stretching from floor to ceiling, sunlight pouring in without asking permission.He stood near the glass when the summons went out.
Chapter 201: Two Architects.
Seth's POV The invitation arrived disguised as protocol.Not marked urgent, not flagged hostile, not even routed through any of the newly militarized channels that had begun shadowing Seth’s movements over the past weeks, it came the way institutional traps always came, polite, reasonable, wearing the language of necessity instead of threat, a request for strategic consultation from a senior oversight director whose name carried just enough historical weight to make refusal noticeable.Virek.Seth read it once, then again, not because he needed clarity, but because he wanted to appreciate the audacity, the assumption still threaded through the phrasing that this was a conversation between administrators, not adversaries, that the world was still made of offices instead of fault lines.He accepted without modification.The room they gave him was not a briefing chamber, not a council hall, not one of the sealed operational theaters buried beneath the capital, it was smaller, circular,
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