The Dead Useless Fisherman Returns as the Untouchable

Chapter 2: No longer needed

The shrill wail of the ambulance siren echoed into the emergency bay as paramedics rushed Andrew through the double doors on a blood-soaked gurney. His clothes were shredded, his chest crushed, and crimson blood soaked through the thick white bandages wrapped around his fractured skull. The medical team immediately swarmed him, hooking up monitors that beeped in a frantic, irregular rhythm.

​Dr. Harrison, the senior surgeon on duty, quickly examined the scans and barked orders. The injuries were catastrophic, particularly the blunt-force trauma to Andrew’s head. Blood was pooling dangerously inside his cranium, and every passing minute dragged him closer to the grave.

​Footsteps clicked sharply against the polished linoleum floor. Victoria arrived, still wearing her designer business suit, clutching an expensive leather handbag. She had been listed as Andrew’s emergency contact, and the horrific crash she had heard over the phone had confirmed something went terribly wrong. Yet, there were no tears on her cheeks, no frantic panic in her breath. Her expression was utterly flat.

​Dr. Harrison hurried over, wiping sweat from his brow. “Are you Victoria? Mrs. Vance?”

​“Yes, I am,” she replied smoothly.

​“Mrs. Vance, your husband is in extremely critical condition,” Dr. Harrison said, his voice trembling with urgency. “His skull is fractured, and there is massive internal bleeding. He urgently needs immediate neurosurgery and intensive life support if he is to survive. We must get him into the operating theater right now.”

​Victoria crossed her arms. “And how much does this surgery and treatment cost?”

​“The procedure, specialized medication, and post-operative intensive care will run over sixty thousand dollars immediately,” Dr. Harrison explained, thrusting a consent form toward her. “We need your authorization immediately so we can start prep.”

​Victoria looked down at the clipboard, her lip curling into a cold sneer. “I cannot afford that kind of money. We don't have that amount lying around.”

​Dr. Harrison stared at her in utter shock. He recognized the high-end label on her tailored suit and diamond earrings. “Excuse me? Mrs. Vance, you are his wife! Without this surgery, he will die within hours! There is no alternative!”

​“Then let him die,” Victoria said without blinking. “I refuse to pay. Pouring that vast amount of money into saving Andrew’s life is nothing but an unnecessary expense. He has become an unbearable burden after fifteen long years of marriage, and I will not sacrifice my hard-earned wealth or my future to keep a crippled invalid alive.”

​In truth, Victoria knew perfectly well that the savings passbook Andrew had given her that very morning had more than enough money to clear the surgery bill with plenty to spare. But as far as she was concerned, that money was rightfully hers now. Why waste it on a dying failure?

​She looked toward the glass partition of the trauma bay, where Andrew lay barely clinging to life. “I want to speak with my husband privately for a moment before you make your final medical declaration,” she demanded.

​Dr. Harrison stood frozen, appalled by her utter lack of grief. She wasn't weeping or mourning; she looked visibly relieved that Andrew’s pulse was fading away. Unable to refuse a legal spouse, the doctor stepped back and permitted her inside.

​The mechanical hiss of the oxygen mask filled the tiny, cold room. Andrew’s eyes flickered open behind swollen lids. Through a hazy veil of excruciating agony, he saw Victoria standing over him. He felt a desperate flicker of hope—had she come to save him? Had she finally realized she loved him?

​Victoria leaned down toward his ear, but her eyes held only dark, cruel venom.

​“Look at you, Andrew,” she whispered softly, her words dripping with pure poison. “Pathetic till the very end.”

​Andrew’s chest heaved weakly, blood bubbling at the corner of his lips.

​“You’ve been playing the devoted, noble father for fifteen years, haven't you?” Victoria sneered, leaning closer so only he could hear. “Well, let me enlighten you before you draw your last breath. Lily and Rose... they are not your biological daughters.”

​The monitor’s beeping spiked wildly. Andrew’s broken fingers twitched against the bedsheet. A soundless gasp choked in his throat, his wide, bloodshot eyes begging her to say it was a lie.

​“Who is their real father? That’s for me to know and for you to take to your grave.”

Victoria continued, smiling coldly at his devastation. “I only kept the truth hidden because you were actually useful to me. You were a gullible fool, Andrew. You worked day and night at the filthy docks, you paid every household bill, you raised children who didn't share a single drop of your blood, and you took all the family's abuse so I could build my empire in peace. But honestly, thos accident is a blessing. It erases you completely. If you die here, no one will ever know the truth.”

​A burning tear rolled down Andrew’s blood-caked cheek. The pain of the metal truck crushing his bones was nothing compared to the pain of his heart dying.

His entire life, his sacrifices, his endless love for the girls… all of it was built on a lie.

​“And don't worry about the money you proudly showed me this morning,” Victoria whispered, tapping her manicured nails on his motionless arm. “You gave me the account number and the security pin yourself. Every single cent of your savings belongs to me now. Consider it your final payment for serving me.”

​Andrew’s heart shattered into a million irreparable shards. He could hear every word, understanding the horrifying reality, but his broken jaw and crushed throat couldn't form a single word of fury.

​Suddenly, the door swung open. A tall, sharply dressed man stepped inside, looking around in utter disgust. It was Marcus, Victoria’s secret lover.

​“Victoria, what on earth are you doing?” Marcus grumbled impatiently, grabbing her by the waist right in front of Andrew’s dying gaze. “Why are you wasting precious time whispering to a dying corpse? His life isn't needed anymore. Come on, we have our entire future to plan together.”

​“I’m finished here, darling,” Victoria said softly, leaning into Marcus’s touch without a shred of shame. “I agree. Andrew needs to disappear completely.”

​Victoria turned and called Dr. Harrison back into the room. Her demeanor turned icy. “Doctor, do the needful. Do not operate. Keep everything that took place in this hospital room completely confidential. He was never here.”

​Dr. Harrison gasped in horror. “What? No! I took an oath! This man can still be saved if we intervene now! This is murder!”

​Marcus took two menacing steps forward, leaning down into the doctor’s face with a sinister, mocking smile. “Listen to me very carefully, doctor. Do you know who my family is? One phone call from me to the board of directors, and your medical license will be stripped, your reputation burned to ashes, and your family destroyed. Do as she said, wipe the admittance log, and forget you ever saw this man.”

​Dr. Harrison trembled, pale and defeated. Terrified of Marcus’s overwhelming influence, the doctor lowered his head and stepped aside, breaking his oath.

​Marcus waved his hand, and two burly henchmen entered with a private stretcher. They tore off Andrew’s IV lines and dragged his battered, limp body out through the secluded service elevator.

​Marcus looked down at Andrew’s bleeding face with a mocking chuckle. “A filthy fisherman living in the muck... how fitting that the river will be the exact place where you disappear forever.”

​The black van sped out of the city, tearing into the desolate darkness of the outskirts. Half an hour later, the tires screeched to a halt on the rocky banks of a wild, remote river.

​The cold night wind whipped across Andrew’s torn flesh. The two men hauled his shattered body out of the vehicle and walked to the edge of the rushing, black current. Without a word of mercy, they swung his body and hurled him into the void.

​The freezing water closed over Andrew’s head, engulfing him completely.

The icy shock tore through his skull, but his broken limbs refused to move. He couldn't swim; he couldn't fight. The rushing current dragged him deep down, as the vehicle's engine faded into the distance.

​The icy darkness choked his lungs, like his soul was surrendering to death.

​Just as his consciousness was about to extinguish forever, a deafening roar of military helicopters ripped through the storm above. Heavy tactical spotlights tore the black water into blazing silver, and a booming, authoritative voice echoed across the riverbank:

​“Supreme Commander! We found him!”