Chapter 613: Sudden Upheaval at the Hospital
Chapter 613: Sudden Upheaval at the Hospital
11 PM. A hospital. Eighth floor.
After emergency treatment, Addison was out of danger, but she needed to stay for further observation since she had inhaled a lot of smoke.
Charles knew James had pulled both Addison and Mary out of the fire. He thanked James over and over again in the hallway and told him to come by The Smith Villa for a meal whenever he had time.
James exchanged a few polite words, then went to check on Mary in her room.
She had a sprained ankle, some burns, and her lungs needed rest, so she'd have to stay in the hospital for a couple of days.
James saw that she had fallen asleep hugging her blanket. He smiled and left the room, planning to make her some herbal congee to help clear her lungs.
He bought some herbs, handed a nearby restaurant two hundred dollars, and had them cook up a big pot.
He drank a large bowl himself, then packed the rest into a thermos and headed back up.
"It's freezing tonight."
As midnight approached, the temperature kept dropping. James pulled his coat tight and put on a face mask to keep the cold out.
At this hour, the hospital was much quieter. Aside from a few staff members at the nurses' station, the lobby only had a handful of people waiting for the emergency room.
When James stepped into the elevator, a doctor in a white coat walked in right behind him.
The moment the doctor spotted James, his eyes narrowed instinctively, scanning him with a sharp look. Then he relaxed and pressed the button for the fifth floor.
He was wearing a face mask and pushing a small cart loaded with IV bags and syringes — clearly one of the doctors on night duty.
But James's eyes quickly narrowed. He noticed the doctor's knuckles were unusually prominent, there were calluses on his palms, and he was wearing military boots.
What kind of doctor wears military boots?
That thought had barely crossed James's mind when the doctor stepped back behind him, let out a cough, then turned toward the corner of the elevator and pulled down his mask to catch his breath.
He should have kept that mask on. The moment it came off, James froze.
He only caught the reflection in the elevator doors, but it was enough. He could clearly make out the doctor's face.
How is this possible? How is this possible?
James was stunned beyond words. If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he never would have believed it.
Ding.
Just as James instinctively clenched his fist, the doctor pulled his mask back up and wheeled the cart out on the fifth floor.
The squeaking wheels echoed clearly down the corridor.
James didn't follow him out. He calmly rode the elevator up to the eighth floor.
The moment the doors opened, he set the thermos down on a chair, then bolted down the stairwell and headed straight for the fifth floor.
By now, the doctor was pushing his cart steadily toward the far end of the hallway.
His gaze locked onto a private care room.
Outside the door stood five or six Lumaria men — each one tough, built, and radiating a fighter's presence.
To make sure nothing else happened to Paxton, Blood Medical Sect had people running in three shifts, nearly twenty men total, protecting him around the clock.
They'd also been given special clearance to carry bladed weapons.
The doctor ignored their presence and kept walking toward them at a steady pace.
The six Lumaria men heard him coming and tilted their heads slightly, eyes sharp with suspicion.
"Who are you?"
They straightened up and moved to block him. "We don't need any doctors here."
Paxton's care was entirely handled by Blood Medical Sect.
Faced with the Lumaria men's challenge, the doctor's expression didn't change at all. He just slowly tightened his grip on the cart.
"Stop right there! I said stop!"
A middle-aged Lumaria man barked again. "You hear me?"
As the Lumaria men's faces darkened, the doctor shifted his foot.
Whoosh.
In one swift motion, the doctor spun both hands and shoved the cart with full force. It slammed straight into the group.
There was a loud crash as the cart hit the men, sending dozens of bottles and vials shattering to the floor.
Then — boom — a ball of fire erupted from inside.
A sharp, acrid gas began spreading through the air.
The six Lumaria men instinctively shouted and started beating at the flames on their bodies.
The doctor seized the moment and drove into them.
"Don't move! Nobody move!"
The Lumaria men saw him coming and, ignoring the fire on themselves, yanked out their weapons.
The shouted commands had no effect. Instead, they seemed to set something off in the doctor. Behind his mask, he smiled — and it wasn't a kind smile.
Every muscle in his body expanded at once.
He dropped into a low crouch. The white coat billowed up around him like a curtain, and he whipped it at full speed over the men's heads.
At the same time, he stepped back smoothly, slipping free of the coat as it fell.
He only retreated half a step. Then the left foot bearing his weight exploded with force.
Whoosh.
The floor on the fifth floor shuddered slightly as he launched himself forward like a leopard.
The moment the white coat blinded the Lumaria men, the doctor crashed straight into all six of them.
It was too fast. Impossibly fast. None of them had time to fight back before he sent them flying.
All six coughed up blood as they stumbled and fell backward.
The doctor pushed through, kicked the door open, and was at Paxton's bedside in one stride.
A single, clean strike.
There was a soft thud, blood at the throat, and Paxton's head tilted to the side. He went still.
One kill. The doctor swept back out the door and ran straight into six Blood Medical Sect fighters who had been resting in the room next door.
"Damn it!"
They shouted and drew their katanas, surrounding him.
The doctor picked up a scalpel and engaged them. Eight people tangled together in a close-quarters brawl.
Steel flashed. The air was thick with killing intent.
Moments later, three of the Lumaria men were wounded. The doctor had picked up a cut of his own.
A blade tip caught his mask, slicing it clean through. It floated down to the floor.
His face was fully exposed.
"James!"
One of the Lumaria men roared.
The others recognized him immediately. This hitman was one of their most dangerous enemies — James.
Bang.
James didn't respond. He pulled out a crude handgun and shot out the light above them, plunging the room into darkness.
The Lumaria men instinctively pulled back, pressing themselves behind the door.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Three more shots rang out, keeping them from rushing him.
When the gun ran dry, James was already at the hallway window.
He reached out with one hand, looped a rope around the railing, and pushed off the windowsill, dropping into the night.
Smooth and fluid, one seamless motion.
"Damn it, damn it!"
Over a dozen Lumaria men charged to the window, hurling throwing darts at his retreating figure.
The darts cut through the night air with a sharp whistle — but none of them found their mark.
By the time someone cut the rope, James had already vanished.
"Son of a—!"
The Lumaria men were furious. They slashed at the windowsill with their katanas, then spun around and ran back to the room.
The lights came on. Everything became clear.
Paxton lay flat on the bed, a cut across his throat, blood soaking the sheets.
The monitors had flatlined. A piercing alarm filled the room.
Paxton was dead.
At the sight of it, every Lumaria man went ice cold. A creeping fear spread through the room.
"Report to Mr. Paxton immediately — Mr. Foster has been killed."
This was going to be a sleepless night for Blood Medical Sect.
Meanwhile, the doctor moved through the hospital like he knew every inch of it, slipping unnoticed to the back exit, ready to go over the wall and disappear.
But just before he touched the top of the wall, he stopped.
Whoosh.
A split second later, he pivoted and sent a scalpel flying in silence.
Clang.
The blade was knocked out of the air before it traveled halfway. Then James stepped forward with a smile and said:
"Good evening. My other self."