Dumped on my anniversary, I activated the billionaire system

chapter 5

The thick, black sludge hit the asphalt with a wet smack, and the sickening smell of rotting copper instantly filled the air.

Evelyn screamed, scrambling backward on her hands and knees, her pristine business suit soaking up the puddle of leaked motor oil without her even noticing.

"Grandpa! Oh my god, he poisoned him! You killed him!"

Dr. Hayes was laughing hysterically from the ground, pointing a shaky, oil-stained finger at Julian while he scrambled for his phone.

"I told you! I fucking told you! Arrest this psycho before he finishes the job! He just injected him with some street poison!"

The crowd of onlookers was murmuring in pure horror, and a few people actually started pulling out their phones to record what they thought was a murder in progress.

The flashing lights of the police cruisers were finally pushing through the gridlock, the sirens deafening in the tight intersection.

But Julian didn’t flinch. He didn’t even look at the screaming doctor or the terrified granddaughter.

He just calmly pulled a clean white cloth from his pocket and wiped the black residue off his fingers.

Then, Arthur Reed’s chest heaved.

A massive, ragged gasp of air tore from the old man's throat, and the terrifying purple tint instantly drained from his face, replaced by a healthy, flushed pink.

He blinked, his eyes clearing up, and he actually pushed himself up into a sitting position without any help.

"Enough," Arthur rasped, his voice weak but completely steady.

Evelyn froze, her hands hovering in the air. "Grandpa? You... you're alive?"

"I'm fine, Evie. Better than fine," Arthur muttered, taking another deep breath and rolling his shoulders. "The crushing pain in my chest is completely gone. It feels like I just took a massive weight off my lungs."

He looked up, his sharp, authoritative eyes locking onto Julian, who was already packing his silver needles back into the leather roll. "You... you're the one who did this? What exactly did you do to me, son?"

Julian zipped the roll shut and stood up to his full height, finally looking down at Dr. Hayes, who had stopped laughing and was now staring at Arthur like he was a ghost.

"His heart wasn't failing, it was suffocating," Julian said, his voice carrying effortlessly over the wailing sirens.

"He had a calcified clot blocking his anterior descending artery, compounded by a severe meridian collapse. The blood was stagnating and turning toxic in his chest cavity."

Julian pointed a finger at the doctor still sitting in the oil.

"If your boy in the designer coat had shocked him with a defibrillator, the voltage would have ruptured his weakened vessel wall and killed him instantly. If he had given him nitroglycerin, the sudden drop in blood pressure would have caused a massive stroke. I didn't poison him. I just used the needles to bypass the blockage and force his body to expel the necrotic blood."

Dr. Hayes scrambled to his feet, his face pale and sweating. "That's... that's medical bullshit! That's not in any textbook! You're a fraud, and I'll have your license revoked!"

Arthur’s eyes went cold, and the temperature in the intersection seemed to drop ten degrees. He didn't yell, but when he spoke, everyone shut up.

"Is that so? Then explain to me why my personal physician couldn't diagnose this, but this young man just cured it in three minutes. And explain to me why you were ready to let me die just to prove your ego."

"I... I..." Hayes stammered, looking around for support, but the crowd was just staring at him with pure disgust.

"Grab him," Arthur ordered softly.

Four massive bodyguards in dark suits instantly materialized from the crowd, grabbing Hayes by the arms and lifting him off his feet.

"Wait! Mr. Reed, please! I went to Johns Hopkins! I'm a top-tier attending!" Hayes shrieked as they dragged him toward the arriving police cruisers to be handed over for questioning.

Arthur ignored him, leaning heavily on Evelyn as she helped him stand. The old man looked at Julian with deep, profound respect.

"Young man, you saved my life today. The Reed family doesn't forget debts. What is your name?"

"Julian," he said simply, turning his back to walk toward his matte-black hypercar. "And we're even. You don't owe me anything."

Evelyn watched him walk away, her icy demeanor completely shattered.

She had dealt with arrogant billionaires, sleazy politicians, and guys who drooled over her every move, but this guy had just saved her grandfather's life and looked at her like she was a minor inconvenience.

"Wait!" Evelyn called out, jogging up to him and blocking his path to the driver's side door. She reached into her purse and pulled out a heavy, matte-black metal card, holding it out to him.

"This is my personal account. There are no limits on it. Please, take it. It's the least we can do."

Julian looked at the card, then looked at her stunning, desperate face. He didn't smile, and he didn't argue.

He just reached out, took the card, and slid it into his jacket pocket without saying a single word of thanks.

"Move," Julian said coldly.

Evelyn blinked, completely stunned by his sheer arrogance, but she quickly stepped aside. Julian opened the door, slid into the leather seat, and fired up the engine.

The hypercar roared to life, vibrating through the pavement as he peeled out of the intersection, leaving the Reed family and the police behind.

As he merged onto the open highway, the blue screen flashed in his vision one more time.

[Ding! Option 2 completed successfully.]

[Reward 1: $100,000,000 deposited into Host's account.]

[Reward 2: Absolute loyalty of the Reed family faction unlocked.]

[Reward 3: Unique Skill Tree 'Shadow Syndicate' unlocked.]

Julian smirked, tapping the steering wheel. But before he could even process the new skill tree, his phone buzzed with a text message from an unknown number.

Heard you slapped Madison and bought a four-million-dollar car. Cute trick, trash. But Damien Croft just bought the Sterling family's country club out from under them. See you at the anniversary banquet tomorrow. Don't be late. - Trent.