Chapter 303: Unless You Want to Watch Him Die

Chapter 303: Unless You Want to Watch Him Die

The car pulled into Applewood Estate. Sophia didn't even bother removing her coat before rushing into the bedroom.

John convulsed violently on the bed, veins bulging grotesquely along his sweat-drenched neck. Bloody foam spilled from the corners of his mouth in a steady stream.

His fingers clawed deep into the sheets, knuckles bone-white from the force. Guttural, animal-like growls tore from his throat.

"When did this start?" Sophia ripped open her acupuncture kit, fingers deftly selecting a silver needle.

"Twenty minutes ago." Hank handed her a sterilizing swab. "We administered a sedative. It didn't work."

The needle pierced his skin. John's convulsions didn't lessen in the slightest.

His pupils had dilated to near-black pools, staring vacantly at the ceiling as if fixated on someone who wasn't there.

"It's useless." Andrew entered with measured steps, checking John's vital signs. "Jane's compound disrupts neurotransmitter balance. Acupuncture only treats the symptoms. He's been injected with drugs for years—now that he's suddenly cut off, he's experiencing withdrawal."

Sophia's hands trembled slightly. Watching John's face contort in agony, she was transported back to childhood—to being locked in her room while he suffered through episodes just like this one.

Had he endured this same torment back then, choosing to bear it alone rather than risk hurting her?

"There has to be something." Her voice shook despite her efforts to control it. She turned abruptly toward the door. "I'll call my mentor. I'll get him here."

Brandon answered immediately. After hearing her description, his brow furrowed with concern. He asked only one question: "Sophia, have you forgotten what John did to you?"

Sophia's pupils contracted. "I remember. I remember the origin of every scar on my body. But I also remember the rare moments of care in that cold house during my childhood."

Brandon sighed quietly. "If you've made your decision, I'll make the trip. I'll examine him."

"Thank you, Mr. Wright." Sophia's gratitude was profound and sincere.

Solstice Haven was quite a distance away. Brandon borrowed a neighbor's car—the locals were happy to help after years of his care. Hearing he needed to make a house call, they immediately drove him into the city.

Meanwhile, Sophia used acupuncture to temporarily stabilize John. Even if she could only treat the surface symptoms, it was better than letting him convulse uncontrollably.

When Brandon entered the room, John's convulsions had somewhat subsided, but his pupils remained unfocused, his breathing as rapid and desperate as a dying animal's.

Brandon's weathered fingers found John's pulse. His frown deepened progressively.

He lifted John's eyelids, examined his tongue coating, then his gaze fell on the dense constellation of needle marks along John's inner arm—a twisted timeline of fresh and fading puncture wounds.

Finally, he shook his head gravely. "It's going to be difficult."

"Even you can't help him?" Sophia's voice wavered.

"Years of drug use have created physical dependency. Now that he's suddenly withdrawn, his body can't cope." Brandon shook his head with a soft sigh. He wasn't a god—at this stage, even the most advanced medical techniques could do little for John.

Sophia gripped her silver needles tighter. "Sir, there must be some way to alleviate his current condition. At least... stabilize him first, then we'll figure out the rest."

Brandon retrieved a small celadon bottle from his medical kit, shaking out several black pills. He crushed them and mixed the powder into warm water.

"Have him take this. It should temporarily suppress the withdrawal symptoms." He gestured for Hank to prop John up, slowly pouring the medicinal liquid down his throat. "But this is only a stopgap measure. We need the original formula for the poison."

"But Jane would never give us the formula. Even if we managed to steal it, developing an antidote would take far too long." Michael's expression was grim.

"Not necessarily." Brandon suddenly looked at Sophia. "Do you remember what I taught you about 'fighting poison with poison'?"

Sophia's pupils constricted. "You mean..."

"Since the withdrawal reaction is caused by sudden cessation, then..." Brandon's gaze shifted meaningfully to Andrew. "If we could obtain a compound with identical components and gradually reduce the dosage, there might be a slim chance."

The room fell into sudden silence.

Andrew stood by the window, the cigarette between his fingers burned down to the filter. He'd been listening to their discussion. Suddenly, he ground the butt out on the windowsill. "I'll get the formula."

"Are you insane?" Sophia whipped around to glare at him. "Jane's lab is a death trap right now!"

"Money talks. Dangerous work always finds willing hands." Andrew's angular features remained expressionless, though his eyes betrayed a flash of sorrow that Sophia caught immediately.

She spoke with absolute finality: "No. Jane isn't stupid—she won't make it that easy to obtain her formula. There's only one way to access her lab and get that formula—by walking straight into her trap."

She knew Andrew had reached the same conclusion. That's why she would never agree to it, no matter what he said.

Andrew's eyes turned cold. "Since when do you control my schedule?"

Sophia met his gaze without flinching. "If you dare go, I'll blow up your basement."

As the two stood locked in confrontation, Harrison suddenly burst in from outside, clutching a stainless steel case.

"Miss Sophia! You need to see this!"

Sophia turned. He hastily opened the case. Nestled in foam padding were two glass ampoules.

Green liquid shimmered through the transparent glass, casting an eerie glow under the overhead lights.

"Someone delivered it by drone. We're already tracking the return flight path."

Sophia's brow furrowed deeply. The others gathered around, staring at the two small vials in prolonged silence. No one reached to take them out.

Unknown substances were too dangerous. They couldn't confirm whether this was medicine to alleviate John's symptoms—or poison to finish him off.

"Guess why there are two vials." Andrew's voice cut through the quiet.

Sophia's pupils dilated sharply. Her brow creased with pain. "She wants us to test them..."

The air seemed to solidify. A suffocating atmosphere permeated the room.

Suddenly, a phone's ringtone sliced through the frozen silence like a knife cutting ice, relentless and eerily out of place.

"Sophia, it's your phone." Michael followed the sound, retrieving her phone from the nightstand.

An unknown number. Sophia scanned the digits, certain she'd never seen this sequence before.

After a moment's hesitation, under everyone's tense gazes, she answered and tapped the speaker button.

"Hello." Her voice was flat, laced with caution.

"Sophia. It's been a while."

The moment Jane's laughter-tinged voice emerged from the speaker, everyone's hair stood on end. Sophia's breathing accelerated sharply. She fought to steady herself. "Ms. White. What do you want?"

"If I'm not mistaken, John should be experiencing symptoms by now, shouldn't he?" Jane got straight to the point. "There are two vials of medicine. Inject them into his body, and he'll stop convulsing. He'll stabilize."

"Why should I trust you?"

"I couldn't care less whether you trust me." Jane suddenly erupted into manic laughter, her voice as terrifying as a serpent's hiss: "I want you to personally inject that medicine into John's body. Unless, of course, you want to watch him die."