Cultivator God, Thanks to Beautiful CEO

Chapter 5

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.

A classic soul-draining technique, Melvin calculated silently, 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 inner jacket pocket, Melvin pulled out a slender, dark rosewood box. With a flick of his thumb, the latch clicked open to reveal twelve slender silver needles resting against black velvet.

"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.

Ssssshhhh—!

A sharp, frigid draft swept through the room, plunging the temperature instantly. A plume of thick, dark-grey mist hissed outward from the pores of Chloe’s lower stomach. The mist swirled wildly in the air, emitting a faint, unnatural shriek before Melvin’s radiating aura incinerated it into harmless, invisible ash.

The swollen, drum-like distension of Chloe’s abdomen collapsed before the eyes of everyone in the room. Within five seconds, her stomach flattened completely back to its natural, slender form.

Beep... Beep... Beep...

The frantic, piercing alarm of the cardiac monitor abruptly smoothed into a steady, rhythmic pulse.

"Pressure surging back to 110 over 70!" the monitoring nurse stammered, her voice high and trembling with disbelief as she stared at the digital screen. "Heart rate seventy-two... oxygen saturation ninety-eight percent! The spatial displacement is gone! Her organ metrics are completely normal!"

A soft, shuddering gasp broke the silence.

On the bed, Chloe’s eyelids flickered open. The deathly, translucent pallor dissolved from her skin, replaced by a warm, delicate flush of life. She blinked slowly against the bright surgical lights, her dark pupils focusing on her mother standing beside her.

"Mother...?" Chloe whispered, her voice frail but undeniably clear. "Why are we in a hospital?"

The formidable matriarch of the Sterling Syndicate lost her cold posture in an instant. Dropping her cane to the floor, Beatrix reached down and gripped her daughter's hands tightly, her dark eyes wide with shock and overwhelming relief.

CLANG!

The silver tray slipped from Dr. Samuel Reed's trembling fingers, sending scalpels and surgical forceps crashing onto the floor. He stared at the healed heiress with his jaw hanging open and his face completely drained of color. Outside the glass window, Victor Vance recoiled as if struck, his hands shaking in fury and terror as his entire trap crumbled into dust.

Melvin smoothly plucked the four needles from Chloe’s skin with a single, sweeping gesture. He wiped them clean on a sterile swab, placed them back into the rosewood box, and snapped it shut.

Turning around, he looked directly past the trembling doctors and met the stunned gaze of Beatrix Sterling.

"The source of her affliction is destroyed," Melvin said casually, sliding the box back into his coat. "She'll need rest, and she will survive."