The Goldmaster

006. Scars and Silver

“He's worse than I expected,” Doctor Álvarez said darkly.

“We're out of time. If we don't operate immediately, he won't make it.”

“No.” Doctor Lex stepped in front of him, arms crossed.

Doctor Álvarez frowned. “What do you think you're doing?”

“I'm simply just reminding you what the young man said,” Lex replied.

“He told us not to remove the needles. He said he'd return in three hours.”

“You mean he boy you spoke about earlier?” Doctor Álvarez scoffed, his eyes narrowing. “You're really following the orders of an unprofessional who doesn't have a degree in medicine?”

“He cured Mr. Alberto earlier,” Lex's tone was colder than before. “Something even I couldn't manage.”

“And look where we are now!” Álvarez's voice rose. “Back to square one! That boy fled the moment things got risky. If we wait any longer, we're sentencing this man to death.”

Mr. Jerry turned toward his daughter, Pamela. “Call him, try reaching out to him.”

Pamela already had her phone close to her ear, pacing near the window. “Still no signal. It just goes to voicemail.”

Silence hung thick in the air, tension pressing down on everyone.

That’s when Almonde Black stepped forward, arms folded and a thin smile curling on his lips.

“Well, there you have it,” he said smoothly. “Doctor Baker is absolutely right. Whoever this Lucas Underwood is—he clearly had no idea what he was doing. Used a half-baked technique and ran off before anyone could question him.”

He turned, speaking loudly enough for everyone in the hall to hear.

“Doctor Baker is a nationally certified healer, one of Berkley’s finest. The president himself once sent for him when his wife collapsed during a summit dinner. If anyone can truly purge the poison, it’s not some no-name runaway—it’s him.”

A few heads nodded, murmurs of agreement starting to stir through the room. Doubt crept into the eyes of some onlookers, even though Alberto had clearly improved under Lucas’s care.

Almonde glanced subtly toward Pamela, watching her reaction closely, voice softening just enough to sound sincere.

“Pam, I know you want what’s best for your grandfather. And I’m just saying—why take a risk with a ghost when you have a living legend standing right here?”

Then Jerry looked at Doctor Álvarez. “......Please, save my father.”

Doctor Lex stepped forward again. “If you touch those needles, then you're going against direct instructions. This isn't Western medicine—pulling them could—”

Doctor Álvarez waved him off. “Enough superstition.”

With a swift motion, he reached for the first silver needle and pulled.

Alberto twitched violently, but he didn't stop.

The second needle came out, then the third. Alberto’s lips turned ash-gray, and his veins darkened.

Pamela’s mother screamed. “His face—!”

Álvarez's brows furrowed. “He's reacting…..but it's fine. It's just the toxins shifting.”

A moment later, Alberto’s chest began to seize. His limbs convulsed and he started twitching violently.

Doctor Álvarez's confidence cracked. He reached for the defibrillator. “We're losing him! It's a cardiac arrest!”

Everyone began to panic from the announcement.

“What?!” someone screamed from the background.

“Clear!”

Doctor Álvarez grabbed the portable defibrillator, barking quick instructions to clear the area.

He placed the paddles against Alberto’s chest.

“Charging—now!”

A sharp jolt surged through the old man’s body, causing it to arch off the bed.

But there was no response.

“Again—clear!”

Another shock. Still nothing.

Álvarez’s voice grew more urgent. “Come on... breathe, damn it!”

The machine whined, charging for a third time.

He delivered another pulse. Alberto’s body twitched—but his heartbeat was still slow

Amidst the chaos, Lucas stepped into the room. A cup of tea in his hand, steam curling gently from it.

He took one glance at Mr. Alberto and set the cup aside abruptly.

“Are you out of your damn minds?!” Lucas’s voice was low but scalding.

“Who gave you permission to pull the needles?!”

Doctor Álvarez snapped, turning to him. “You disappeared—what were we supposed to do? Watch him die from your fake treatment?”

Lucas ignored his rants and walked straight to the bedside.

With practiced hands, he reached into his sleeve and drew a small vial filled with golden-red liquid, uncorked it, and tipped it into Alberto’s mouth.

Then he pressed two fingers against Alberto’s pulse point, his eyes narrowing as he watched his reaction carefully.

Then he grabbed his needles and moved with blinding speed. One, two, three, four, five……

Each needle landed with surgical precision, into the same points but deeper this time.

Everyone held their breath as they watched him in action.

Minutes passed since he started his acupuncture, and everyone was waiting, silently hoping.

Then Alberto jerked up, choked, and gasped for air.

Color flushed back into his face, slowly.

Pamela covered her mouth in disbelief, and her mother burst into tears.

Doctor Álvarez's hands trembled. “That… shouldn’t be possible…”

“You're lucky he's still breathing,” Lucas said, rising to his feet, his face dark with fury.

“I warned you not to touch the needles, but you thought you could fix what you don't understand.”

Doctor Álvarez pointed. “You poisoned him with those needles! I was trying to save his life!”

Lucas turned slowly. “If I'd arrived thirty seconds later, he'd actually be dead right now—and it'd be on you.”

Doctor Lex stepped forward, guilt written all over his face. “I tried to stop him at first but… I wasn't convincing enough.”

Lucas sighed. “What could've been a full recovery is now a partial one.”

He turned to the family. “His body is stable, but the poison settled deeper because of the shock from the defibrillator. It's lodged in his bone marrow now.”

“Can you cure it?” Mr. Jerry asked desperately.

Lucas looked at Alberto. “Not entirely, not anymore. He'll survive, but he'll need to be on long-term medication.”

A long silence stretched before Jerry dropped to his knees.

“Thank you! You saved my father's life twice.”

Lucas stared down at him, pulling him up. “Don't thank me yet.”

Pamela looked up. “What do you mean?”

“I said he could've recovered fully,” Lucas replied. “Now, his life depends on whether you can find one thing.”

“What’s that?”

Lucas’s expression darkened. “A rare herb—the Nocturn Bloom

Doctor Lex gasped at the name of the herb. “But that hasn't been seen in decades!”

Jerry stood, shaking with fury as he stared at Doctor Álvarez. “You…!!!”

“You arrogant bastard!” He pointed. “You almost killed my father! After everything he did, you couldn't even listen to a basic instruction!”

Doctor Álvarez tried to speak. “I—”

“Shut up!” the man roared. “Get out. Now!”

The two guards standing by the door immediately moved toward Doctor Álvarez.

Mr. Jerry didn't stop there. “From this day forward, if anyone in my household should see this man within a hundred meters of our property, he should be beaten until he can't walk.”

Doctor Álvarez's face twisted in shame and rage as he got dragged out of the room. “You'll surely regret this!”

Pamela’s mother collapsed into a chair, sobbing quietly.

Doctor Lex looked at Lucas, then lowered his head. “I owe you an apology.”

Lucas didn't respond to him.

“Actually, I was about to ask that. There’s an auction tonight in North Berkley—It’s private with high-security.”

“A few rare medicinal items are expected to show up, and there’s a small chance Nocturn Bloom might be among them.” Mr Jerry spoke out.

Lucas picked up his tea that was surprisingly still warm. He took a sip, then turned to Mr. Jerry and said,

“If it is, then I'll have to come with you to the auction tonight.”

“If there’s a good chance the Nocturn Bloom might show up there, and if it does, you're going to need me to recognize the real one.”

Mr. Jerry nodded immediately. “Whatever you need, I'll arrange everything.”

Lucas turned and looked at Pamela, who hadn't moved from the window for a while.

“You're okay now,” he told her. “He's alright.”

She glanced back at him but didn't utter any words.

“I'll be back before the auction tonight,” he said over his shoulder.

“Don't let anyone else touch him.”

And then he was gone, as casually as he arrived.