Adam Piers took the fever medicine, and his temperature dropped slightly, but his complexion was still very poor, with a gloomy aura surrounding him.
After finishing today's work, he returned to the hotel, but his fever kept recurring. He had no appetite, and in a daze, he sent a message to Bertha Swift before collapsing onto the bed to sleep.
Adam Piers was awakened by the doorbell ringing outside.
The man, already irritable from his illness, was now extremely frustrated, with a face twisted by sleep inertia. He roughly kicked a nearby chair and stomped to open the door barefoot, secretly thinking that whoever disturbed him better have a good reason.
With this bad mood, Adam Piers opened the door, saying, "So, you're asking for it..."
The last word got stuck in his throat as he stared blankly at the woman in front of him. He instinctively rubbed his eyes, realizing she was still there, mind spinning; was he hallucinating because his fever had fried his brain?
