Cultivator God, Thanks to Beautiful CEO

Chapter 5

"That is impossible," Victor Vance muttered, stepping off the stage and approaching the gurney, desperate to assert his medical authority in front of the province's most dangerous matriarch. "A distension of this volume without cellular density or fluid accumulation defies basic human physiology!"

"Then explain why my daughter’s heart is stopping!" Beatrix demanded, her hand closing tightly over the brass handle of her walking cane.

Dr. Samuel Reed's hands shook violently as he held the diagnostic tablet. Deep in debt to black-market gambling rings controlled by dark factions, he had already been pressured by Victor Vance to act as the primary fall-guy for high-risk medical anomalies.

Pushed to the brink, Samuel’s eyes darted frantically around the room until they landed on Melvin, who was quietly observing the patient's meridian pathways from the edge of the corridor.

Seeing a sudden, sinister opportunity to pivot away from his administrative failure, Victor Vance’s lips curled into a subtle, malicious smile. He stepped beside Lady Beatrix, gesturing toward Melvin with calibrated solemnity.

"Lady Beatrix," Victor spoke softly, his voice dripping with false concern. "Standard modern medicine appears baffled by your daughter's condition. However, this intern—Melvin—just claimed before the entire board to possess transcendent, absolute diagnostic sight. He insists our senior specialists are incompetent."

Gavin Vance instantly caught onto his father's scheme, stepping forward with an arrogant sneer. "That's right, Lady Beatrix. Melvin claims he can see things no machine can detect. Why not let him take full responsibility for Miss Chloe’s emergency treatment?"

Vanessa let out a quiet, cruel breath from the bench, realizing the trap Victor had laid. If Chloe Sterling died on the operating table under standard care, the hospital board would face catastrophic legal fallout from the Sterling Syndicate. But if a lowly, blacklisted intern officially assumed primary care and failed, the ruthless underworld dynasty would direct their entire bloody vengeance directly onto Melvin.

Beatrix turned her head slowly, her cold, piercing eyes anchoring onto Melvin. The air in the corridor grew heavy with implicit threat.

"You," Beatrix said, her voice dropping to a dangerous, quiet register. "Intern. Is what they say true? Can you diagnose what is killing my daughter?"

Unfazed by the surrounding hostility or the lethal trap woven around him, Melvin took three measured steps forward, stopping beside the gurney.

Focusing his Astral Sight deeper into Chloe’s body, Melvin bypassed the superficial swelling and looked directly into her primary meridians. What he saw made his eyes narrow slightly. Lingering deep within her abdominal cavity was not a medical tumor or a biological pregnancy, but a swirling, pitch-black vortex of corrupted, volatile spiritual energy—a Void Energy Core, born from an insidious, ancient curse designed to devour her life force from the inside out.

"I know exactly what is inside her," Melvin said calmly, looking directly into Lady Beatrix's eyes. "And I can purge it."

Beatrix stared at him for a long, silent second, searching his clear, unbothered expression for any sign of hesitation. Finding none, she stepped back and gestured toward the double doors of the VIP isolation bay.

"If you restore my daughter to health," Beatrix declared, her tone echoing with immense, unyielding weight, "the Sterling Syndicate will grant you whatever reward you name. But if she dies under your hands... not even the gods will protect you from what comes next."

"Lady Beatrix, wait!" Dr. Samuel Reed interjected frantically, clutching a tray of surgical scalpels. "We cannot allow an unlicensed intern to perform an unverified procedure! Standard protocol dictates an immediate exploratory abdominal incision to relieve pressure!"

Melvin warned softly, stepping toward the VIP doors. "Touch her with a blade and the reaction will kill her within three minutes!"

The thick, pressure-sealed doors of the VIP isolation suite slid shut with a heavy pneumatic thud, severing the chaotic murmurs of the hallway.

Outside, behind the double-paned observation glass, Vice Director Victor Vance and his son stood like vultures waiting for a carcass, their eyes glued to the scene within.

Inside, the room was steeped in clinical frost and tense, suffocating quiet. Telemetry monitors chimed in erratic, dying rhythms as four black-suited Sterling bodyguards posted themselves against the wall, their hands rested beneath their jacket lapels.

Dr. Samuel Reed stood frozen beside the surgical cart, his hand lingering an inch above the tray of scalpels. Melvin’s parting warning at the doorway still hung in the icy air like a razor, staying the specialist's fingers. His eyes flickered nervously toward Lady Beatrix, seeking cover under authority, but the matriarch didn't even grant him a glance.

She simply stood near the head of the bed, her knuckles white upon the polished brass of her cane, her gaze pinned entirely on the intern.

"You have your room," Beatrix said, her voice dropping to a gravelly, lethal whisper that carried no trace of motherly panic—only cold, absolute finality. "Prove your words, or join the list of those who failed my family."

Melvin paced slowly to the edge of the high-speed gurney and let his gaze drop onto Chloe Sterling.

The nineteen-year-old girl lay paralyzed in silent agony, her pale skin drawn tight over an abdomen swollen to terrifying proportions. A deathly pale face framing features locked in unconscious agony, contrasting sharply against an abdomen swollen to the proportions of a full-term pregnancy.

Melvin subtly channeled his qi into his eyes, stripping away the physical facade to reveal shimmering strands of crimson blood vessels, pale white nerves, and glowing meridian pathways.

A dense, parasite-like vortex of pitch-black spiritual corruption coiled precisely at the intersection of her central Yin pathways. This Void Energy Core, born from an ancient cultivation curse, feasted greedily on her innate life essence. It expanded outward, casting a spatial distortion that tricked standard ultrasound frequencies into reading absolute emptiness.

Melvin calculated silently, 'A classic soul-draining technique,  inspecting the erratic pulsing of the dark core. The moment a surgical blade breaches her skin, the sudden atmospheric imbalance will detonate the core and instantly tear her internal pathways to shreds.'

Reaching inside his coat, Melvin drew out the rosewood case he had lifted from his glovebox at dawn. The latch gave under his thumb. Twelve hand-forged silver needles lay against black velvet, each one seated in a groove worn smooth by a dead man's fingers across forty years.

His grandfather had set these same needles into farmhands and fishermen in a village with no clinic and no road out. Melvin had buried him at nineteen, believing the old man's trade was superstition.

Standing over the daughter of the most dangerous family in the province, Melvin understood he had been wrong about that.

"What are you doing?!" Reed blurted out, taking an involuntary step forward as panic broke through his restraint. 

"Acupuncture?! She is in acute systemic failure! Her systolic pressure is below sixty! You're going to kill her with primitive nonsense!"

Melvin casually plucked four needles between his fingers. "Step back," he commanded softly. The quiet force in his voice hit Reed like a physical blow, instantly silencing the specialist.

Melvin’s hand transformed into a fluid, golden blur. Swish—swish—swish—swish!

Four silver needles drove cleanly into Chloe’s primary acupoints—Qihai, Guanyuan, Shenque, and Zusanli—sinking with absolute mathematical precision. The metal bypassed mere skin and locked directly onto the hidden node points of her meridian grid.

A sudden, sharp hum echoed through the silent room, vibrating like a struck tuning fork.

From the observation window, Victor Vance scoffed under his breath, crossing his arms in smug anticipation of the girl's vital monitors going flat. Inside the suite, the reality unfolded violently in the opposite direction.

Melvin hovered his right palm two inches above the central needle at her navel. Pure, refined celestial qi surged down his arm, visibly distorting the air around his hand with rippling heat waves. He slammed his palm downward, stopping just above the skin to drive an invisible wave of pure energetic force into her body.

The four needles erupted into a brilliant, golden glow beneath the skin.

Deep inside Chloe’s abdominal cavity, the golden energy wrapped around the pitch-black Void Core like a tightening steel vice. The dark parasite thrashed wildly against the invasion. Melvin’s celestial qi slammed into it from four directions at once, breaking its structure down atom by atom.