Nobody Knew I Was the War God

Chapter 004

"That girl! Why did she have to bring home such a cursed person? She never makes things easy for us!"

Trish Wainright, Wendy's mother, had followed them out of the ward, initially intending to offer her daughter a few words of comfort and support.

But as she stepped off the elevator into the lobby, she caught the tail end of Cliff's passionate denunciation of Chris, and her sympathy immediately evaporated, replaced by indignant fury.

Wendy looked surprised to see her mother.

"Mom? What are you doing down here?"

Trish had no time for pleasantries. She pointed an accusing finger at Cliff, her expression dark with anger.

"We all saw with our own eyes how Chris's treatment worked immediately! The results were undeniable! And yet you have the audacity to spread these malicious lies about him?"

Her voice rose, becoming shrill with outrage.

"Cliff, it's one thing to lack ability, but you can't be completely shameless on top of it!"

Being verbally attacked so directly, even Cliff—who'd endured far worse in his military career—felt his jaw tighten with suppressed frustration.

However, out of respect for the fact that this woman was Wendy's mother, he forced himself to maintain patience and try once more to explain the situation clearly.

"If you allow Chris to continue with his so-called treatment, Grandfather Sutton will be dead within three days. That's not an exaggeration—it's a medical certainty."

"You—you shut your mouth right now!"

Hearing Cliff continue to stubbornly insist on his position, Trish trembled with rage, her face going pale with the intensity of her fury.

"Who the hell do you think you are? Look at yourself! You're nobody! A convict! How dare you make such outrageous claims! You're like trying to polish mud—completely hopeless!"

She practically spat the words at him.

"Mom, are you alright?"

Seeing that her mother was genuinely becoming upset to the point of possibly affecting her health, Wendy's own expression darkened with displeasure. She turned to Cliff, her voice sharp.

"Cliff! You're not even a doctor! Can you please stop making these ridiculous boasts?"

"I brought you here to support me, not to antagonize my parents!"

Cliff looked directly at Wendy, his voice becoming serious and earnest.

"Wendy, can't you trust me just this once?"

If he didn't have absolute confidence in his diagnosis, would he dare use her grandfather's life as some kind of joke? Did she really think so little of his character?

Before Wendy could formulate a response, the elevator doors slid open once again, and Cheney Wainright—whom they'd encountered briefly in the ward—stepped out into the lobby.

"Mom, Wendy, both of you need to calm down!" he said, his voice radiating false concern and manufactured sympathy.

"This whole situation getting so out of hand is really my fault!"

Cheney's face arranged itself into an expression of insincere humility, the kind of look practiced by people who've never been genuinely humble in their entire lives.

"I'm to blame here. I stole Brother Cliff's spotlight, and that wasn't fair of me."

He paused, as though considering his next words carefully.

"Tell you what—let's just say that Grandfather Sutton's improvement had nothing to do with me at all. It was entirely Brother Cliff's achievement. Chris was just... performing a little theatrical act for my benefit. That's all it was!"

The sarcasm dripping from every word was unmistakable, the mockery thinly veiled beneath a veneer of magnanimity.

Cliff didn't hesitate for even a second before firing back.

"I don't need your condescending commentary. The facts are exactly as I stated them."

If Cliff remaining silent might have defused the situation, his actual response had precisely the opposite effect—Trish's displeasure with him instantly skyrocketed to maximum levels.

"Are you out of your mind?!" she shrieked, her voice cracking with fury.

"Cheney is being gracious and noble, offering you a way to save face, and you actually take him seriously? You genuinely believe you accomplished something?"

Wendy released a long, weary sigh, her disappointment in Cliff reaching new depths.

"Cliff, just come with me. Let's leave before you embarrass yourself even more."

Seeing that the situation had turned completely in his favor, Cheney allowed a triumphant smile to spread across his features. He shrugged with exaggerated nonchalance.

"Hey, Wendy, wait—don't rush off!" he called out, his tone dripping with false solicitude.

"How about I ask Chris if he does cosmetic surgery? You know, for that face of yours—it really isn't sustainable to keep looking like that indefinitely, is it?"

Cliff, who had already begun walking toward the exit, stopped dead in his tracks the instant he heard Cheney mocking Wendy's appearance. His expression transformed completely, becoming dark and dangerous.

Insulting him? He could tolerate that without much difficulty.

But Wendy—she was Cliff's absolute bottom line, the one thing in this world he would not allow anyone to disrespect. She was sacred ground that no one was permitted to tread upon.

"What did you just say?" Cliff's voice dropped to a low, menacing register, each word carefully enunciated. "What exactly do you mean by 'that face of yours'?"

His footsteps halted completely, and the suppressed fury in his tone was reminiscent of a lion about to attack—all contained violence and barely restrained power.

In the next instant, he whirled around with startling speed. His hand shot out like a striking snake, iron fingers clamping around Cheney's wrist with crushing force.

"Apologize to Wendy. Now."

Cheney's eyes widened in shock as he realized he had absolutely no time to dodge or evade. The movement had been too fast, too precise.

Moreover, with those iron fingers locked around his wrist, he found himself completely immobilized—unable to pull away, unable to move at all. The grip was like a steel manacle.

"What are you doing?!"

Watching Cliff physically assault Cheney without any warning, Trish let out a piercing shriek of alarm.

"Have you completely lost your mind? If you harm even a single hair on Cheney's head, the Wainright Family will destroy you! They'll make you wish you'd never been born!"

"I don't care about the Wainright Family," Cliff stated flatly, his voice absolutely unyielding. "He insulted Wendy. That means he apologizes. It's that simple."

Wendy had initially opened her mouth to scold Cliff for this unreasonable, violent behavior.

But when she heard his fierce declaration—his complete disregard for the consequences, his willingness to confront one of the Three Great Families on her behalf—the words died in her throat. She stood there with her mouth slightly open, unable to voice any criticism.

At that moment, Cheney suddenly spoke, his tone shifting dramatically to one filled with remorse and self-reproach.

"Brother Cliff is absolutely right. This situation is entirely my fault."

He turned to face Wendy directly, his expression becoming earnest and apologetic.

"Wendy, I'm sorry. I genuinely spoke without thinking just now. My words were inappropriate and disrespectful."

"Cheney, how could this possibly be your fault?" Trish immediately rushed to his defense, her voice warm with sympathy.

"You just tend to speak a bit directly sometimes—that's your only flaw! Wendy certainly isn't going to take it personally!"

She whirled on Cliff, her expression hostile.

"You—let go of him right now!"

"Cheney has already apologized! What more do you want?"

Wendy couldn't allow her mother to lose face in this public confrontation, so she forced herself to intervene.

"It was just words. I'm not holding any grudges."

Seeing that Wendy didn't intend to pursue the matter further, Cliff released his grip, allowing her to pull him away from the hospital entrance.

Trish naturally couldn't resist taking one final verbal shot as they departed.

"See? This is the difference breeding and education makes! Someone like Cheney, who takes responsibility for his actions—that's what a real man looks like!"

"Certain other people just resort to violence at the slightest provocation, and they can't even manage a simple apology afterward!"

"Mom, please don't say that," Cheney interjected, maintaining his facade of magnanimity. "I genuinely was disrespectful to Wendy with my words. Brother Cliff was just being protective of his wife. It's actually quite admirable."

"Protective? What a joke!"

Trish's contempt intensified at this comment.

"If he really cared about Wendy's wellbeing, the best thing he could do would be to disappear completely! His behavior in that ward was nothing but humiliating for our daughter!"

"Ah, Mom, let's not dwell on these unpleasant topics," Cheney said smoothly, though a flash of vicious satisfaction flickered briefly in his eyes before being masked by his refined public persona.

"Chris just finished another examination and said Grandfather will wake up very soon!"

"Really?"

Trish's face immediately brightened with joy. She forgot all about criticizing Cliff and rushed toward the stairs, eager to return to the ward.

Back in the hospital room, Chris stood before Quinn Sutton with an expression of professional gravity.

"Grandfather Sutton's physical condition is gradually improving. As long as we maintain the medication regimen without interruption, there's a very high probability he'll regain consciousness."

He paused significantly.

"However, you must understand that this is a highly advanced wonder drug—the price reflects its exceptional quality. So regarding the matter of compensation..."

Chris let the sentence trail off meaningfully, but Quinn understood perfectly what was being implied.

Now that results were visible, payment was naturally expected.

"Continue the treatment," Quinn declared without hesitation. "I don't care what it costs—the Sutton Family can afford it!"

At that moment, Trish burst into the room with Cheney in tow, her expression anxious and excited.

Chris glanced almost imperceptibly at Cheney, then released an exaggerated sigh.

"Well, considering my relationship with Young Master Wainright, I suppose I can offer you a special rate. I'll take a loss and give you the cost price."

He delivered the figure with practiced casualness.

"One million dollars per dose."

Meanwhile, after leaving the hospital, Cliff guided Wendy to a nearby hotel.

They entered through the modest lobby, and Cliff approached the reception desk.

"Hello. I'd like a room, please."