SUPER DOCTOR REVENGE

Ch. 8

The torrential rain that had battered the city of Bacca all night finally began to recede, leaving behind a cold, damp mist that clung to the asphalt. As the first pale rays of dawn broke through the heavy cloud cover, a fleet of pristine, midnight-black luxury sedans pulled up to the entrance of the Nightshade Tower—the crown jewel of the city’s financial district.

The lead car’s door opened, and Calvin Hudson stepped out. His custom-tailored suit was immaculate, completely untouched by the elements. Walking half a step behind him was Vivian Nightshade, holding a sleek leather briefcase, her expression a mix of absolute professionalism and deep respect.

"Master Hudson," Vivian said as they stepped into the private, high-security elevator that led directly to the penthouse suite. "The liquidation of the Vance family assets is proceeding exactly as scheduled. By noon today, their villa, their luxury vehicles, and their remaining domestic accounts will be fully seized by our legal team. Victoria Vance was admitted to a municipal hospital early this morning due to a severe stress-induced panic attack."

Calvin looked at his reflection in the polished steel walls of the elevator. The weak, desperate young man who had begged for scraps just twelve hours ago was gone. In his place stood a man whose gaze could make the most powerful tycoons in the city tremble.

"And Tiffany?" Calvin asked, his voice calm, devoid of any lingering emotion.

"She spent the night outside the sealed gates of her former estate, trying to contact any of her high-society friends," Vivian replied with a cold smile. "Naturally, now that the Vance name is toxic, no one answered her calls. She is currently staying in a cheap, low-end motel on the outskirts of the industrial district."

Ding.

The elevator doors slid open, revealing a massive, ultra-modern penthouse office overlooking the entire skyline of Bacca. Waiting near the grand floor-to-ceiling glass windows was a line of five individuals, each dressed in pristine lab coats and sharp business attire. The moment Calvin walked into the room, all five bowed deeply, their hands pressed tightly to their sides.

"We greet the Sovereign Master!" they chanted in perfect unison.

These were the top medical researchers and corporate executives of the Nightshade Group’s pharmaceutical division. For years, they had worked in secret, waiting for the rightful heir of the Hudson legacy to awaken.

"Rise," Calvin commanded, walking over to the massive mahogany desk and taking his seat. He placed his mother’s phoenix amulet on the desk. The ancient metal lay quiet, but through his God’s Gaze, Calvin could see the boundless ocean of golden Qi humming just beneath the surface, waiting to be drawn.

"Report on the 'Abyssal Ash' genetic toxin," Calvin ordered, looking at the lead scientist, an elderly man named Dr. Jude.

Dr. Jude stepped forward, his hands trembling slightly with excitement. "Master Hudson, as you know, the Abyssal Ash toxin was a biological weapon used in the final months of the border war. Sterling Pharmaceuticals capitalized on the crisis by creating a highly expensive, temporary suppressant. They never intended to cure it; they wanted a permanent base of dependent customers. Your sister, Miss Elara, was injected with a highly concentrated variant of this toxin during the chaos of your family's downfall."

Dr. Jude sighed, a look of helplessness crossing his face. "Our team has spent two years trying to synthesize a cure, but the molecular structure of the toxin mutates the moment it comes into contact with synthetic compounds. Without the Sterling family’s master formulas, we are at a complete dead end."

Calvin leaned back in his chair, a faint, knowing smile touching his lips. Thanks to the Divine Medical System permanently bound to his soul, his mind was currently an encyclopedia of thousands of years of lost medical knowledge. What modern science viewed as a complex molecular mutation, ancient Eastern medicine viewed as a simple imbalance of spiritual and physical elements.

"Your mistake is trying to cure a spiritual poison with chemical compounds," Calvin said smoothly.

He picked up a sleek fountain pen and drew a blank sheet of parchment toward him. His hand moved with blinding speed, writing down a list of twelve traditional herbs, some exceedingly rare, along with precise extraction temperatures and distillation methods that defied standard pharmacology.

"This is the formula for the Sovereign Cleansing Pill," Calvin announced, sliding the parchment across the desk. "The Abyssal Ash toxin thrives on cold, stagnant cellular energy. These herbs, when distilled using a specific heat pattern, create a hyper-alkaline, high-energy reaction that burns the toxin out of the system without damaging the host’s organs."

Dr. Jude picked up the paper, his eyes scanning the list. At first, his brow furrowed in deep skepticism. "Master... some of these herbs are considered mildly toxic when combined. The Flos Daturae and the Radix Aconiti. if we mix them in these quantities, the patient’s heart could—"

"Look closer at the distillation method," Calvin interrupted gently. "The Radix Aconiti must be baked over charcoal infused with pure silver for precisely four hours before extraction. The silver neutralizes the cardiac alkaloids, leaving only the cellular stimulant."

Dr. Jude’s jaw dropped. He stared at the notes, his brilliant scientific mind rapidly running the theoretical calculations. Within thirty seconds, his eyes went wide with absolute awe. He fell to his knees, clutching the parchment as if it were holy scripture. "Genius... this is absolute genius! It completely bypasses the mutation loop! Master Hudson, this formula... it won't just save your sister. It will completely revolutionize the entire post-war medical industry!"

"Begin production immediately," Calvin ordered. "I want the first viable prototype brought to my sister’s ICU room by this evening."

"Right away, Sovereign!" Dr. Jude scrambled back, practically running out of the penthouse alongside the other executives, their faces burning with newfound hope and ambition.

As the heavy double doors of the office closed, leaving only Calvin and Vivian, the phone on the desk began to buzz. Vivian stepped forward, checking the encrypted caller ID.

"Master, it is Marcus Vance—Tiffany’s father," Vivian said, her tone dropping into a dangerous whisper. "He was overseas trying to secure an emergency loan from foreign investors when the empire collapsed. It seems he has just landed back in Bacca."

Calvin gestured for her to put the call on speakerphone.

The moment the connection went through, a heavy, breathing voice filled the room. It wasn't the voice of a broken man; it was the voice of a desperate, cornered predator.

"Calvin Hudson..." Marcus Vance growled, his voice trembling with a mixture of raw fury and panic. "You think because you found a backer in the Nightshade family, you can destroy my life’s work? You're a child playing with fire. You have no idea what forces were funding the Sterling merger."

Calvin rested his elbows on the desk, his eyes narrowing as his God’s Gaze instinctively focused on the phone, as if he could see the hidden networks connecting the call. "Marcus. I see you've finally returned to pick up the pieces of your broken house."

"Listen to me very carefully, you ungrateful brat," Marcus hissed. "I don't care what secrets your dead father left you. The formulas we took from the Hudsons belong to people far more powerful than General Briggs or Vivian Nightshade. If you do not reverse the asset seizure and hand over the rights to your new medical project by midnight tonight... I will ensure that the hospital housing your sister burns to absolute ash. You won't just lose your family name, Calvin. You will watch everyone you love bleed."

The air inside the penthouse office instantly dropped by ten degrees. The sheer pressure of Calvin’s Qi caused the water inside a crystal glass on his desk to violently ripple, small fractures appearing along the rim.

Calvin didn't shout. He didn't lose his temper. His voice remained as smooth and cold as a sheet of arctic ice.

"Marcus," Calvin whispered, the words carrying an implicit promise of absolute death. "I was wondering who gave Julian Sterling the authority to target my sister. Now I have my answer. Stay exactly where you are. I am coming for you next."

Without waiting for a reply, Calvin smashed his hand down on the end-call button, crushing the plastic housing of the phone into a neat pile of dust. He stood up, looking out over the city of Bacca as the storm clouds began to gather once more in the distance. The real war for the city had just begun.