The Reincarnation Of The Divine Physician

Chapter 006

That morning, Crescent Alley remained cloaked in thin mist and the distinct stench of the wet market, yet inside shophouse number 44, the atmosphere had transformed entirely. Arkhan stood before a cracked mirror above the sink, staring at his reflection. His hair was black with a faint reddish sheen—a residual trace of ancient energy beginning to fuse with his body's cells. His shirt was threadbare, faded into a yellowish-brown, and his trousers bore several patches at the knees.

"The world today is a shallow stage," Arkhan muttered in a low baritone. "They will not listen to a sage if he dresses like a beggar."

Arkhan reached into his pocket and pulled out an object that starkly contrasted with his surroundings: the Wijaya Family Black Card. Cold, heavy, and trimmed with gold, it symbolized boundless power.

To him, it was merely a piece of plastic, but to the outside world, it was the key to the gates of heaven.

He stepped outside, locked the creaking wooden door, and walked toward the main boulevard. His destination was Metropolis Grand Mall, a monument of luxury serving as the center of gravity for the city's elite. To secure the high-grade medical supplies needed for the Bronze Vessel Stage, traditional markets no longer sufficed. He needed access to Griya Atsiri, and to step inside without being thrown out, he required a new skin.

Arriving at the Metropolis Grand Mall lobby, Arkhan was greeted by rows of supercars whose price tags could buy an entire district. Yet the crowd's attention gravitated toward him. Dressed in faded rags and thin flip-flops, Arkhan stood out like a dark stain on polished marble floors.

As he walked toward the automatic sensor doors, a towering security guard in a black safari uniform blocked his path. His name was Anto, a man who had guarded the entrance for years and felt entitled to filter who could breathe the mall's cool air.

"Hey, stop right there!" Anto barked, extending a muscular arm. "Where do you think you're going? You think this is a place for scum and paupers like you?!"

Arkhan halted an inch from Anto's hand. His expression remained flat, yet a cold aura emanated from him, making the guard's neck hair stand on end.

"I came to shop."

"Shop?" Anto burst out laughing, attracting the attention of several high-society women passing by.

"Listen, kid. A single cup of coffee in there costs a week's worth of your meals. Your flip-flops shouldn't even touch our boutique carpets. Get lost before I get rough!"

Subdued murmurs broke out among the bystanders. "Gosh, why is a beggar allowed here? Where is security?" a woman carrying a Hermes bag whispered.

Amid the commotion, a young woman in sharp formal business attire stepped out of a high-end boutique near the lobby. Siska, manager of boutique Le Grand, walked over with an arrogant stride. She was the type to judge a person's net worth solely by the stitching on their collar.

"What's going on, Anto? Why is there a scene in front of my store?" Siska asked condescendingly.

"This, Ms. Siska. A filthy man trying to force his way in. Claims he wants to shop," Anto scoffed.

Siska locked Arkhan in a deeply contemptuous gaze, covering her nose with manicured nails.

"Disgusting. This mall is for people with dignity and money. Someone like you will only ruin our boutique's exclusive image. Anto, why are you still standing there? Throw him out! Give him a 'lesson' if you must."

Anto smirked, reaching out to grab Arkhan's collar. "Alright kid, come with me!"

Before Anto's hand could touch his clothes, Arkhan moved. His action was not fast, but remarkably efficient. He reached into his trouser pocket, pulled out the gold-trimmed Black Card, and tossed it onto the marble display table in front of Siska's boutique.

Clink!

The sound of the card hitting the marble was soft, yet to Siska's ears, it rang like an atomic bomb. Her eyes, previously filled with contempt, widened in shock. As an elite boutique manager, she was trained to recognize the rarest items in the world, and the card before her was a Wijaya Golden Black Card—held by fewer than ten people in the entire nation.

The lobby fell deathly quiet. Siska trembled violently, her legs turning to jelly. She stared at the card, then at Arkhan's calm face as if seeing a ghost.

"M-Master... this... this card..." Siska's voice choked in her dry throat.

"Is this card enough to grant me dignity in your store?" Arkhan asked in a sharp, flat tone.

Siska abandoned her pride instantly. She bowed deeply until her forehead nearly touched the marble table.

"F-forgive my insolence, Master! I am deeply sorry! I had no idea you were an honored guest of the Wijaya Family! Anto! What are you doing?! Kneel and apologize to the Gentleman immediately!"

Anto, oblivious to the card's significance but terrified by his manager's reaction, turned pale. He dropped to the floor, kneeling and trembling uncontrollably.

"F-forgive me, Master! I was wrong! Please don't report me!"

The onlookers who had been mocking him were stunned. They stared at Arkhan in disbelief. How could a young man who looked like a beggar hold a card that even billionaires had to queue for?

Arkhan ignored them. He retrieved his card and stepped into Siska's boutique.

"Bring your finest clothes. No conspicuous logos, no tacky ornaments. Black."

"Yes, Master! Right away!" Siska scrambled in panic, ordering her entire staff to serve Arkhan like an emperor.

Twenty minutes later, the fitting room door opened.

A man stepped out with a steady stride. Arkhan now wore a sleek, medical-style black suit crafted from the highest quality Italian silk.

The jacket wrapped perfectly around his lean frame, casting a solid, mysterious silhouette. His black shirt was buttoned to the neck, accentuating his sharp jawline.

His black-and-reddish hair was neatly styled, and his cold, handsome gaze caused every woman in the boutique to catch her breath. He no longer looked like a beggar; he looked like a lord of darkness walking undercover in the mortal world.

Arkhan stood before a full-length mirror, adjusting his sleeves. A faint, resolute smile touched his lips.

"One hundred and eighty million, Master. It has been charged to your card," Siska said humbly, her hands trembling as she returned the Black Card.

Arkhan took the card without a word. He walked out of the boutique, leaving Siska and Anto overwhelmed with lingering dread. To him, these clothes were merely armor.

His primary objective lay ahead.

He crossed the mall crowd, which now watched him with admiration and curiosity. Arkhan took the escalator to the top floor, where the aroma of herbs began to pierce the heavy scent of expensive perfume. At the end of the hallway, an ancient sandalwood sign reading "Griya Atsiri" welcomed him.

Arkhan paused before the entrance of Griya Atsiri. He balled his hand into a fist, feeling his weak pulse ready to receive new energy.

"The attire is set. Now, it is time to reclaim my power," Arkhan thought as he stepped into the most prestigious herbal trading center in Metropolis.