Chapter 113 Kriss
Newton stepped into the sterile hospital room, the faint hum of medical equipment filling the air.

The soft glow of the overhead lights illuminated the figure lying in the bed, a silent witness to the violence that had transpired. Tubes and wires connected him to monitors, while the steady beeping of a heart monitor provided a reassuring rhythm.

Newton approached the bed, his gaze fixed on the man's battered form. His face was pale, a stark contrast against the crisp white sheets that enveloped him. Bandages wrapped around his chest and limbs, evidence of the wounds he had sustained in the intense gunfight.

Doctor Mitchell, with a weary expression etched on his face, glanced up from the patient's chart as Newton stepped into the room.

Newton's voice resonated with a combination of concern and determination as he inquired, "How is he, Doctor?"

Closing the chart, Doctor Mitchell locked eyes with Newton, his gaze mirroring a mixture of exhaustion and hope.

"He is still breathing, Mr. Nor
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