Chapter 168 Blood Exchange

Alan sighed deeply, patting Frank's wheelchair without a word.

I could sense the tangled emotions between Frank and Laura. When I thought about the torment of love and hate that this man endured, my anger softened. I felt a bit more sympathy and pity for this dying man, maybe because of our college days and the stories with Alan over the years.

I wanted to say something, but I didn't.

Ronald watched us from a distance, squinting his eyes. He tightened his leather jacket, pulled out a cigarette from his pocket, and lit it by the fire on the rooftop.

He watched us slowly descend from the platform of the lift, a slight smile forming on his lips. He made an exaggerated gesture, scrutinizing us.

"I saw you guys come down from the sky like gods, and it fired me up."

Even though there wasn't a big fire on the rooftop, the smoke had singed Ronald's hair and darkened his skin. But his eyes were fierce, like a monster lurking at the bottom of a lake, ready to strike in the dark night.

He stood up, looking at the last sliver of sunset on the edge of the city, which disappeared in the blink of an eye.

I noticed Frank also looking up at the sunset. As it vanished, his eyes grew darker. In a daze, he lifted his head and looked at Ronald.

The two locked eyes in silence for a long time, resembling mortal enemies.

I could clearly feel the anger emanating from Frank. His body trembled slightly, and I could hear his heavy breathing. For someone as weak as him, it seemed to be the most direct way to express his anger.

Ronald looked at Frank, much more simply, but his gaze was different from when he looked at George. The look he gave Frank was one of pride and arrogance, which surprised me.

"Living is a kind of pain for you."

Ronald smirked, then added, "Actually, it's the same for me. So from the first time I saw you, I knew we were the same. We are too much alike."

"So, come with me today." Frank said calmly, his voice steady.

"When you were little, you smiled at everyone, but I knew you looked down on them from the bottom of your heart. Only Alan caught your eye, and only Alan could understand and tolerate you. Later, you grew up, understood the bond of shared hardships, the significance of a pretty girl, understood love, and knew hatred. You grew up, thought you were remarkable, had your own plans, your own goals. You remembered everything, gritted your teeth, using hatred as your driving force, attributing all your encounters to me..."

Ronald's voice grew more passionate, like a speaker on a podium, a revolutionary, with a faint sense of ceremony, like a pope proclaiming God's will. He abruptly stopped and turned, saying, "And all of this was my arrangement."

A strange sound squeezed out of Frank's throat, like a mix of laughter and crying. His face was pale, and his eyes were red, showing intense pain.

"Alan, what do you think?" Ronald seemed very pleased with Frank's reaction. He glanced at me and Alan, asking.

"In human history, those who claimed to be gods never ended well. A few days ago, I went to see Erica. I told her to let go of her obsession and feelings for you, and to tell you to let go, to let go of your obsession." Alan spoke slowly, standing tall and looking Ronald straight in the eye, neither humble nor arrogant.

Only then did I understand what Charles had said earlier. Alan had indeed found Erica, not just to help her let go of her obsession, but to tell Ronald to let go as well. Erica went to Ronald not just for feelings, but to persuade him.

"Ronald, feeling inferior and cowardly won't save you. You don't need to sacrifice others to escape those feelings. No matter how high you climb, that feeling will only get worse, always tormenting you. It's not motivation; it's a curse. You, the others at the old steel mill, Lally, Alan, Tom—they saw through it. But you and Frank still haven't."

"Let go, release these people. There are still people in the world who love you, like Erica, like your daughter, Zoey." Saying this, I held Alan's hand, feeling a warmth in my palm.

We exchanged a look, and the silence spoke volumes.

Ronald remained unmoved, smiling at Alan, then glanced at Frank, suddenly understanding, and pointed at the two of them, saying to me, "Alan looks so bad, Nancy, do you know why?"

I frowned, not speaking, but instinctively glanced at the two of them.

Alan gently squeezed my hand, smiling and shaking his head, indicating it was nothing serious.

"Do you know what illness Frank has?"

Ronald looked at the two of them meaningfully, increasingly pleased.

"Frank has a rare blood cancer—one that lurks silently in childhood but strikes with growing frequency in adulthood. At first, the attacks come every few years, then annually, then every six months... until time runs out."

Ronald smiled slightly, "About every two months. Think about it, when was the last time you saw Tom and Frank at the hospital?"

I didn't respond, but I clearly remembered. It was after Anna's failed assassination attempt on Tammy. I went to the hospital to see Tammy, and on the way out, I met Tom, then Frank.

At that time, he looked like he had been through immense suffering, his body extremely weak. A man in his thirties looked like he was in his eighties, barely clinging to life.

"This illness can't be cured, only alleviated, delaying death's arrival. But the more you fear it, the clearer you hear its footsteps."

Frank laughed strangely, his rough voice hoarse for a long time.

"But you didn't expect, this time, I still survived."

"Of course I knew!" Ronald puffed out his chest confidently. "Your illness can only be treated with a blood transfusion. It takes at least a year or more to find a match for your blood. These two months are far from enough, but you're still alive. That means Alan personally gave you a blood transfusion!"

I suddenly turned to Alan.

Frank, as if electrocuted, stood up from the wheelchair with a thud. His weak body couldn't withstand such exertion. The next moment, like a collapsing statue, he fell to the ground.

Alan hurried to help him up, but Frank, with unexpected strength, pushed him away.

Frank began to cry and shout madly, cursing loudly.

Ronald watched all this expressionlessly, saying calmly, "Because, your illness, I gave it to you. From beginning to end, I only miscalculated once. You, Laura, Douglas..."