Dumped on my anniversary, I activated the billionaire system

chapter 4

Julian didn’t even hesitate. He slammed his foot on the brake, the massive carbon-ceramic rotors biting hard as the hypercar fishtailed slightly before coming to a dead stop just a few yards from the wreckage.

He didn't care about the four-million-dollar paint job getting scratched by flying debris; he just kicked the door open and sprinted toward the smoking Rolls Royce.

The intersection was a total nightmare. Sirens were wailing in the distance, but the gridlock was way too thick for the ambulances to get through.

In the center of the chaos, an elderly man in a tailored suit was collapsed on the asphalt, his face turning a terrifying shade of purple.

Kneeling beside him was a stunning young woman with sharp, icy features, her hands hovering over him in pure panic. This had to be Evelyn Reed.

Julian’s new God-Level Medical Skills flared to life in his brain.

He didn't just see an old man having a heart attack; his vision practically overlaid with a diagnostic readout.

He could see the exact blockage in the man's cardiovascular system, a massive clot compounded by a rare, undiagnosed meridian collapse that standard CPR would only make worse.

If the paramedics shocked him right now, his heart would literally explode.

"Step back!" Julian barked, dropping to his knees and shoving Evelyn’s hands away. "If you keep pressing on his chest, you're going to rupture his aorta and kill him before the cops even get here."

Evelyn snapped her head up, her blue eyes flashing with fury and terror. "Who the hell are you? Don't touch my grandfather! Get away from him!"

"I'm the only one who can keep him breathing for the next five minutes," Julian said, his voice dead calm and completely devoid of sympathy.

He didn't have time to coddle her. He reached into the inner pocket of his wrinkled jacket, his fingers brushing against a sleek, cold leather roll that the System had materialized there.

He unrolled it on the pavement, revealing a set of impossibly thin, gleaming silver needles.

Before he could even pick one up, a loud, obnoxious voice cut through the noise of the crowd.

"Hey! What the fuck do you think you're doing, you absolute psycho?"

Julian didn't look up, but he could see the reflection in the shattered window of the Rolls Royce.

A guy in a pristine white doctor's coat over a designer turtleneck was pushing his way through the onlookers.

This was Dr. Bradley Hayes, a hotshot attending from the city's most exclusive private clinic, and he looked like he was ready to have someone arrested.

"Get your filthy hands off Mr. Reed!" Bradley screamed, shoving his way to the front and kicking Julian’s shoulder hard.

"I don't know what kind of street-trash voodoo you're trying to pull, but if you puncture his skin, I will personally see you rot in a maximum-security prison for the rest of your miserable life!"

Evelyn looked between Julian and the doctor, her panic spiking. "Dr. Hayes! Thank god, please, do something! He's turning blue!"

Bradley puffed out his chest, looking down his nose at Julian’s scuffed boots and the weird needles on the pavement.

"Stand back, miss. I'll handle this. You, get the fuck out of here before I call the cops and have you tased."

Julian finally looked up, his eyes completely dead and cold. He could see the slight tremor in Bradley’s hands and the sweat on his forehead.

The guy was a fraud who relied on expensive machines to do the actual diagnosing, and right now, he was terrified.

"He’s not having a standard myocardial infarction," Julian said, his voice slicing through the panic.

"His left anterior descending artery is blocked, but his vagus nerve is misfiring due to a localized pressure drop. If you give him nitroglycerin or use a defibrillator right now, his heart will stop permanently."

Bradley’s face turned bright red with anger. "Are you out of your fucking mind? I went to Johns Hopkins, you uneducated gutter rat! I know how to read an EKG! Now get away from him before you kill him!"

Julian didn't argue. He just moved.

His hand shot out like a viper, grabbing Bradley by the lapels of his expensive coat. With a terrifying, effortless jerk, Julian threw the doctor backward.

Bradley stumbled, tripped over his own feet, and landed hard on his ass in a puddle of leaked motor oil, completely ruining his designer clothes.

The crowd gasped, and Evelyn actually took a step back, shocked by the sheer, brutal speed of the man kneeling beside her grandfather.

"You're done talking," Julian said, not even looking at the doctor on the ground.

He picked up the thinnest silver needle, pinched it between his fingers, and didn't bother sterilizing it.

He just drove it directly into the base of Arthur Reed’s neck, right over the carotid artery.

"He's killing him! Call the police! Shoot him!" Bradley shrieked from the ground, scrambling for his phone with oily hands.

Evelyn was frozen in horror, her mouth open to scream, but before she could make a sound, Julian’s fingers were a blur.

He drove three more needles into the old man's chest and wrist, twisting them with a specific, rhythmic pressure that sent a visible shudder through Arthur’s body.

For three agonizing seconds, nothing happened.

The crowd was murmuring, Bradley was screaming for the cops, and Evelyn was trembling so hard she could barely stand.

Then, Arthur Reed’s eyes snapped wide open.

But he didn't look relieved. His face contorted in absolute agony, his back arching off the pavement as he let out a wet, rattling gasp, and suddenly, he vomited a massive splatter of thick, black, foul-smelling blood right onto Julian’s jacket.