The Miracle Doctor Returns: Divorce To Hidden Identity

Chapter 9

The whispers started before dawn. I heard them not with my ears, but through the subtle shifts in the air around Skydome—the way people paused when I walked by, the half-hidden glances of the staff, the muted tones of conversations that ended as soon as I entered the room. The boy’s recovery had already escaped the hospital walls and was spreading quietly through invisible channels.

I’d been called many names before: fraud, beggar, son-in-law. But this name—the one now rising like a ghost—sent a chill through my blood.

“The Warlord Doctor has resurfaced.”

The words came to me from Linda, whispered under her breath as we stood in the glass-walled briefing room at Skydome’s headquarters. She had just ended a call from one of her contacts in the Ministry of Health. Her face was pale.

“They’re already talking,” she said. “Business leaders. Politicians. Even syndicates. People you wouldn’t expect to care about a sick child—they’re all suddenly interested in you.”

I stared at her, but my reflection in the glass caught my attention. The man looking back at me didn’t look like a savior. He looked like someone standing at the edge of a cliff, staring into a fog of forgotten wars.

“Warlord Doctor,” I muttered. The title felt alien on my tongue, yet strangely familiar, like a coat I had once worn but forgotten. “Who gave me that name?”

Linda hesitated. “No one knows. It’s been buried for years. But those who remember… They're the kind of people who never forget debts. Or enemies.”

Her words sank in like stones dropped into deep water. My fists tightened unconsciously. Something deep in my muscles remembered another life, another battlefield—not of guns and blades, but of medicine, strategy, and power. But my mind was still fogged, refusing to give me the whole picture.

Meanwhile, far from Skydome, another gathering was taking place.

I wasn’t there, but later I would hear every detail from one of our informants. In a dimly lit hall of black marble, Carl knelt before his family elders. These were not men or women who tolerated failure. They were the silent architects behind industries, the shadow patrons of chaos, and Carl was their favored but reckless grandson.

“They say the Miracle Doctor saved a magnate’s child inside Skydome,” Carl said, his voice shaking as he knelt. “It’s him. It has to be him. If we don’t move now, we’ll lose everything.”

The elders, cloaked in tradition and wealth, exchanged glances. One of them, an old man with a voice like sandpaper, spoke. “If the warlord has indeed returned, then Skydome cannot be allowed to stand. Before he consolidates his position, we must destroy his foundation.”

Carl raised his head. “Tell me what to do.”

Their decision was swift and merciless: sabotage. Not with bullets or bombs—at least not yet—but with the silent daggers of corporate warfare. They would target Skydome’s research wing, its heart, the place where innovation became power. Poison the well, and the empire would collapse.

And so the first move of their game began.

Back at Skydome, I felt the pressure before the first blow landed. Linda entered my office with a file so thick it could have been a court brief. Her expression was tight.

“I’ve been tracking unusual activity for days,” she said, laying the file down. “But this morning, it all lined up. Someone’s making suspicious bulk purchases of rare medicinal herbs—herbs we use in our proprietary compounds. At the same time, our stock price is fluctuating in patterns too deliberate to be coincidence. And our researchers…” she paused, her eyes darkening. “Some of them have been approached with bribes. Others have been threatened.”

I flipped through the pages. Every line was another thread of the same web: market manipulation, supply chain disruption, infiltration. It was subtle, but the pattern was unmistakable. This wasn't a random competition. This was war.

“They’re moving already,” Linda said quietly. “Whoever it is, they know exactly where to hit.”

I set the file down and stared at my hands again. They had saved a life just days ago, but now they curled into fists, knuckles whitening. My mind was still fractured, but my instincts were sharp as ever.

“I don’t remember everything,” I said, my voice low. “But I know this feeling. This isn’t business. It’s a siege.”

Linda tilted her head. “A siege?”

“Yes.” I rose from my chair, every movement deliberate. “They’re not just trying to harm Skydome. They’re trying to test me. To see if the stories about me are true.”

Her brows furrowed. “And if they are?”

I met her gaze. “Then they’ll find out what happens when they wake the wrong ghost.”

For a moment, the room was silent except for the faint hum of the building’s climate control. Then Linda spoke, her voice steadier than before. “What do you want me to do?”

“Strengthen security around the research wing. Audit every purchase order. Double-check our suppliers. Anyone who’s been approached for bribes—bring them in quietly. I’ll deal with them myself.”

She nodded, already moving to execute my orders. But before she left, she hesitated at the door. “Charlie… are you sure you’re ready for this? You’re still… recovering.”

Recovering. I almost laughed. As if I’d ever been whole to begin with.

“If they want a fight,” I said, “I’ll give them one.”

Linda left, her heels clicking against the polished floor, each step carrying my words further into the machine of Skydome. Alone now, I turned to the window, looking out over the city. Neon veins glowed against the night, a living organism of greed and ambition. Somewhere out there, Carl and his backers were already moving pieces on the board. But I wasn’t the same man they thought I was—not entirely.

Somewhere inside me, a forgotten strategist stirred.

Then my phone rang.

I answered, expecting another update from Linda. Instead, I heard Nancy’s voice—fragile, trembling.

“Charlie…” she said, and my heart clenched. “

My mother’s life is in danger again. Only you can save her.”

The line went silent except for her shallow breathing.

I closed my eyes. The war outside had just collided with the war inside.

And I had no choice but to fight them both.