The Prison Dragon: Unrivaled Medical God

The Hand That Touched Her

President Lee kicked his limbs up, such that the hue on his face was mottled crimson and purplish in appearance. It skewed about wasting against my shins, his expensive leather shoes doing a poor job at impressing me.

"Let... let me go...," he wheezed, clawing at my fingers. "I... I will give you money! Ten million! No, twenty million!"

The crowd remotely watched in horror. This was President Lee, the CEO of Grand Sky Group, a man who could bring companies to their knees with a phone call. Now, however, he appeared as a fish on a hook.

"Twenty million?" I cocked an eyebrow, tilting my head. "You think your dirty money can buy back my hand that touched your wife?"

I looked at his right hand; the fleshy, sweaty hand that had just lethargically creep up the thigh of Sarah a moment before.

System Diagnosis. [Target: Middle-aged male. Overweight. Weak joints.] [Action: Commencing Punishment.]

"You like to touch things that don't belong to you," I said calmly. "So you don't need this anymore." 

I tightened my grip on his throat just enough to keep him conscious, then used my free hand to grab his right wrist.

"No! No! Don't-!"

CRACK.

I broke not only his wrist, I twisted it. I exerted force into his meridian points, shattering the ulna and radius bones into powder.

"ARGHHHHH!" Lee's scream was so loud it cracked a champagne glass from a nearby table. I was not done; "And the fingers."

Snap. Snap. Snap.

I broke three of his fingers backward.

"This is a warning," I whispered, leaning close to his ear. "If you ever look at her again, I will pull your eyes out of your skull."

I released his throat.

President Lee fell to the floor, whimpering while clutching his mangled hand and sounding like a dying pig. He drew into himself and sobbed into the expensive carpet.

I wiped my hand on his suit jacket as if I had touched something soiled.

"Ethan!"

This high-pitched, hysterical scream, cut through the air.

Martha Miller, my foster mother, marched towards me, her face a mask of rage with much of her thick makeup cracking under the strain, while behind her David continued to groan in the wreckage of the wedding cake, holding his broken arm.

"Ungrateful beast!" Martha screeched while leaning a shaking finger on my nose. "For all that, we raised you! Took you in when your parents died! Fed you, offered you a roof over your head! And this is how you repay us-a ruined big day and all!"

The room went quiet. This was the weapon the Miller family always brought to bear on me: Filial Piety. They used "gratitude" like a Suvarnad recycling chain to tame obedience-requiring behavior.

Five years ago, this guilt trip would have made me bow my head.

Today, it just made me want to laugh.

"Raised me?" I looked at Martha coldly. "You took me in because my father left me a trust fund that you couldn't access unless you were my guardians. You fed me leftovers while David ate steak. You made me sleep in the attic while David had the master suite."

"Lies!" Martha shrieked, looking nervously around at the guests. "Don't listen to this convict! He's crazy from prison!"

That step closer, she tried to intimidate me further by her status. "I command you to kneel and apologize to President Lee and David right now! If you do, maybe I won't call the police. You are still my son--"

"I have no mother," I interrupted.

I stepped forward. Martha stumbled back, terrified at the pressure radiating from me.

"I went to prison for David, five years back," I said, my voice dropping to a whisper that echoed through the hall. "Five whole years of life I lost just to save your biological son."

I pointed to Sarah, who was still shivering by the table.

"And during my absence, you took my heritage away, bullied my wife, and attempted to sell her."

My eyes lit up with golden light.

"Repayment of raising me? I paid that by spending five years in hell. Now? We are strangers. No... we are enemies."

"Y-you...," she stammered, finally realizing her guilt-trip ploy was out of order. She turned to the crowd in desperation. "Security! Why is no one doing anything? Call the police! Shoot him!""

"No need for police."

A deep, gravelly voice came from the shattered entrance.

Gasps filled the crowd.

He had surely taken it down many notches from that point.

Walking in was a battalion of twelve men in black suits. They walked through the wreckage of the fallen door like predators, not like security guards.

In the front was Viper.

"Oh my god," a guest whispered. "Is that... Viper? The King of the Underground?"

"It is! That’s the man who runs the Northern Mercenaries! Why is he here?"

David, still dripping with cake, laughed maniacally. "Haha! Viper is here! Mom, did you call him? Viper, kill this man! Kill Ethan! I’ll pay you whatever you want!"

Martha's eyes lit up. "Yes! Mr. Viper! Please, help us! This convict is dangerous!"

There was sympathy pangs towards me in the eyes of almost all present. Viper was a legend in River City. He controlled the streets. If he was here, I was a dead man.

Martha. David. All the guests did not interest Viper. He walked straight toward me.

"Run, Ethan! Ah, go!" yelled Sarah.

I didn't move. I stood with my hands behind my back, watching Viper approach.

Viper stopped three feet away from me. The whole room kept its breath, anticipating he would draw a gun and blow my brains out.

Instead, Viper smoothed his suit jacket.

Then, to the richest, most powerful people of River City...

Viper went down on one knee.

Thud.

His head hung low, baring his neck in one grand sign of total submission.

"Lord," Viper said, his voice ringing clear and loud. "The perimeter is secured. My men await your order. Do we execute them all?"

Silence.

Complete, suffocating silence.

David's jaw dropped. Martha seemed slapped. President Lee stopped crying.

The terrifying Viper... was kneeling? To the convict?

"Lord," Martha whispered, shaking. "Mr. Viper, you have to be wrong. It's only Ethan-an orphan who isn't worth anything."

Shut up!" shouted Viper, swinging his head and glaring at Martha. His killing intent was so strong that came to fell backward onto floor, One more word of disrespect toward the Dragon King, and I will cut out your tongue myself.

Dragon King ?

The whisperings were. "Dragon King? Is that his title?" "Wait, I heard rumors... inside Blackgate Prison, there is a hidden ruler...." "He controls Viper? Who is this man?"

I gazed down at Viper, "get up. Don't dirty your suit." "Yes Lord." Viper stood up and stood behind me instantly like a loyal guard dog.

I turned back to the Miller family. They were no longer proud; they were shaking. They had shrunk small."

Then, I walked closer to the table where Sarah stood, and picked a napkin and dusted one small speck on her shoulder. She flinched but did not recoil. She gazed at me with wide, confused eyes."I told you I'd come back " I said softly to her.

I turned to Martha and David.

"I am not killing you today", I said.

David let out a breath of relief."Killing you now would be too easy," I continued, my voice cold. Do you care about money? Do you crave status? Do you worry about your precious reputation?"

I stepped on the marriage contract lying down on the floor, grinding into the carpet.

"I will take everything from you. I will bring down your company. I will strip you of all titles. I will make you beg in the street of River City just like you intended for me," I looked at David.

"Enjoy your broken arm. It's the first installment of your interest payment." I turned around. "Viper." "Sir!" "We're leaving." I took Sarah's hand. "Sarah, let's go home."

Sarah hesitated for a second, looking at the stunned crowd, then at my hand. Her hand was cold, but she grabbed mine tight. We walked out through the shattered doors, Viper and his men forming a protective wall around us.

Behind us, the banquet hall was dead silent, save for President Lee's whines and groans.

The King has come back. And war has just begun.