Chapter 6: The Quack
Author: Lily Monroe
last update2025-10-12 01:02:58

Adrian Doyle made his way home.

“Mom.”

“What is it, son?” Lydia Ramsey heard the strain in his voice and felt her heart climb into her throat.

“I broke up with Hailey.”

Lydia blinked. Adrian and Hailey had dated for over three years; the families had already met. How could it end, just like that?

She didn’t press. Instead, she soothed him. “It’s all right, sweetheart. Then it’s over. We’ll find someone better. There are plenty of wonderful women in this world.”

Adrian nodded. “I know, Mom. By the way—I’ve been watching some short medical videos lately. Sit down. Let me take a look at you.”

Knowing he was hurting, Lydia humored him and settled into a chair. She expected nothing from his so-called “medical” attempt.

She didn’t know that Adrian now carried the Supreme Legacy.

After a brief examination, her condition lay bare to him.

A pity—curing her would take costly herbs, more than they could afford. Every cent at home was already going to medicine. He needed money, and fast. He stood. “Mom, you’re already much better. I need to step out for a bit.”

“Okay. Be home for dinner,” Lydia said, returning to her chores.

Adrian headed to the city’s busiest district, intent on using the Supreme Legacy to find a way to make money.

He’d prepared… nothing.

On the heaving sidewalk, he scratched his head in frustration.

At the very least, he needed a table. A sign.

He scanned around and spotted a stall with a few spare tables.

“What’ll it be, kid?” the vendor asked.

“I want to set up a stall too. Can I buy one of your tables?”

After paying, Adrian borrowed a marker and a scrap of cloth. He started writing.

The vendor glanced over—and went slack-jawed.

“Raise the dead, knit broken bones. Peerless physician. Cure guaranteed.” The man clicked his tongue. “Didn’t take you for a con artist. And such a lazy one at that…”

Adrian didn’t argue. He dragged over a chair and sat.

The vendor had just branded him a fraud when he caught sight of Adrian’s pricing—and froze again.

“One session: $100,000. Cures all ailments. No haggling. If it’s too expensive, keep walking.”

A hundred grand a session? The kid had to be insane.

Even the best doctors on earth don’t charge that for a house call.

A sidewalk charlatan asking sky-high fees—madness.

The vendor shook his head and went back to work.

A lilting voice cut through the bustle. “Do you… really cure everything?”

Adrian looked up.

A cascade of hair fell over the woman’s shoulders. Bright eyes, wide and luminous, studied him. A mask hid most of her face, and still it was obvious—she was striking.

“Of course. Everything.”

He had confidence in his skill. The Supreme Legacy was no parlor trick.

She was about to speak when the onlookers around them jumped in at once.

“Miss, don’t fall for it. This is the oldest scam. They promise miracle cures, then sell you overpriced ‘supplements.’ Won’t kill you, won’t cure you either.”

“Exactly. ‘Raise the dead, flesh to bone’? What is he, a deity?”

“Call the cops. Have him hauled away!”

Just then another fresh-faced young woman pushed through the crowd and grabbed the first one’s hand. “Kayla Logan! What are you doing? I brought you out for some air, not to chase quack cures.”

“And you pick a scammer like this? You’re killing me here!”

She didn’t wait for an answer, just tugged Kayla to leave.

“I have no choice, Harper,” Kayla said, stricken. Then she turned to Adrian. “One hundred thousand. I’ll pay it. Come with me.”

She pulled him away by the sleeve.

Harper Green stared, stunned, then hurried after them.

The moment they slid into the car, Harper couldn’t hold back. “Kayla, are you out of your mind? Hiring this fraud? Can’t you see he’s just after your money?”

“I know,” Kayla said, hollow. “But I’m desperate.”

She turned to Adrian in the back seat. “Here’s a check for a hundred thousand. Take it—but you’ll have to tell a lie for me.”

Adrian blinked. So in her mind, he was already a complete con.

He looked at the check. “If you’re trying to save someone, I’ll come. If you want me to help you lie, I’m not interested.”

He reached for the door, but Kayla clutched his arm in panic.

“You can’t go. It’s just a white lie—nothing cruel or criminal. Name your price. I’ll pay anything.”

Adrian Doyle had been ready to walk away. But Kayla Logan’s plea came from pure filial devotion—and he did need a large sum of money.

“I can cure your father,” he told her. “But my f*e is separate.”

Harper Green nearly exploded. How dare this quack brag like that?

Kayla, however, lit up. His con was polished; his composure, unshakeable.

“No problem.” She turned to the driver. “Let’s go.”

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