Chapter 619:
Every major organ shows decay. It is only by sheer will and relentless treatment that you’ve endured until now. Inside, you are brittle, like rotting wood. Healing you will be nearly impossible.”
Gasps rippled through the gathering. Everyone had suspected Brad’s health was failing, yet none had imagined the verdict would be this dire from the man they called the Healing Hand.
Sean fixed his gaze on the so-called “Healing Hand”, his voice calm but edged with warning. “My grandson recently had a full examination inside the navy’s most advanced medical pod. The results came back flawless, nothing at all like what you’ve claimed.”
The man forced a mask of composure. “Admiral Morgan has likely been receiving regular injections to suppress the neurotoxin. Those shots only disguise the symptoms for a time, making him appear no different from a healthy man.”
Sean faltered, caught off guard. His lack of medical knowledge left him silent, though the deepening shadow on his face betrayed his unease.
Frank quickly slipped into a look of anguish and disbelief. “Tell us then. Is there truly no hope?”
Frieda gasped, covering her mouth as tears welled in her eyes. Her voice trembled. “I’ve only just reunited with my son. Must I lose him again so soon?”
The healer paused, then drew a small sachet from his case. A strange fragrance drifted from it as he declared, “This Herbal Remedy Sachet was refined from over a hundred antidotal herbs. With it, Admiral Morgan’s vitality can be preserved, and his condition held in check. For full recovery, we must wait until his body strengthens enough for further treatment.”
Brad accepted the sachet, rolling it between his fingers. The faint aroma eased him for a moment, as though lifting a weight from his chest.
“Are there more sachets available?” someone from the observing guests couldn’t help but ask. “Such a wonderful item, I’d like to purchase a few for the frail elders at home.”
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Curiosity spread, sparking a ripple of voices eager not to miss their chance at what seemed a rare treasure.
Kristen lifted her chin, her tone sharp with pride. “What belongs to the Healing Hand is beyond price. It is not something one can simply acquire.”
Cillian leaned forward, urging Brad. “You’ve been given hope. Show gratitude. Thank Healing Hand properly.”
A derisive snort cut through his words. Rylie rose from her seat and crossed the room. Without hesitation, she plucked the sachet from Brad’s hand, held it briefly under her nose, and drew in a slow breath. Pulling it away, she sneered, her voice dripping with disdain. “How dare you peddle this trinket to deceive people?”
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“Miss Owen, what are you trying to do now?” a guest seated near Cillian spoke up, his voice edged with open displeasure. “This medicine is the creation of the ‘Healing Hand.’ You must not show any disrespect! He devoted great effort to develop this life-saving remedy, and it is not your place to question it so lightly!”
Cillian’s expression turned grim at once, and he barked in a severe tone, “Miss Owen! This is not the occasion for such behavior! Return the sachet to Brad at once! We are only tolerating you out of regard for your grandfather!”
Frieda, seizing the chance to vent all her long-held resentment toward Rylie, lashed out without restraint. “Exactly! You’ve targeted Frank time after time, and now you are hindering the medicine intended to save Brad! What are you plotting? Do you truly want the Morgan family to suffer?”
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