The woman who descended from the stairs was undeniably alluring. In her early thirties, her age should have signaled youth, but she carried herself like a seasoned seductress. Her long, dark hair was twisted into a tightly wound ballet bun, and her fingers glittered with more rings than anyone could count. Her attire was sharp, calculated, and dripping with wealth. Yet, it was her makeup that drew attention—her eyes were smudged with a thick layer of shadow, her nails painted a deep, bleeding crimson. Every detail screamed that she was a woman of intent, carefully sculpted to fit a role.
Linda Jones, Alton Wood's second wife, surveyed the room with an air of superiority. Emily, her stepdaughter, felt the stirrings of disdain bubble within her. It wasn't just the woman's appearance; it was her presence that felt like an invasive force, filling the space with a cold, suffocating tension.
Her words, as sharp as the stiletto heels she wore, cut through the silence. "Your father is on the brink of death," Linda said, her voice casual, almost indifferent. "If we get scammed, it's no big loss. We'll simply refuse to pay."
Emily's stomach churned. The cruelty in Linda's voice was evident, but it didn't surprise her. Their relationship had never been a kind one, and with every word, Linda's true nature peeled away, revealing the hunger for control beneath the polished surface.
Linda turned to John, the man standing with a quiet confidence in the center of the room. "I'll let you treat him, but let's make one thing clear. If you fail, there's no money for you."
John met her gaze without flinching, a faint smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "Oh? So you want me to treat your husband? Why should I do that for free?"
The air seemed to thicken at his challenge. Linda's eyes flashed with contempt. "You think you can make demands?" she sneered. "You're nothing but a child playing doctor. If I wanted a child's treatment, I'd go elsewhere."
John's smirk widened, his tone dropping to one laced with amusement. "I can help him. But if I succeed, my fee will be half of the Wood family's assets."
The room fell into stunned silence. The audacity of such a demand hung in the air, thick and heavy. Linda, Noah, and Emily were all taken aback.
"Half?!" Noah shouted, his voice rising in anger. "Who the hell do you think you are to ask for that much?"
John didn't acknowledge his outburst, instead keeping his gaze fixed on Linda. His stare was as cold as the stone walls surrounding them.
Linda's face tightened, disbelief flashing through her features. After a tense pause, she composed herself, sneering. "You truly are a child, aren't you? You want half of everything we own? What do you think you're playing at?"
John chuckled darkly, a sound that sent chills through the room. "You want me to save your husband, but you think I'll do it for nothing? Half is a fair price. Take it or leave it."
Emily's voice broke through the tension. "If you can really cure my father, I'll give you half of everything."
Noah's face went white as he turned toward her, his mouth opening in protest. But before he could speak, Emily silenced him with a piercing look. "Shut up. Do you want to watch our father die, or do you want to fight for his life?"
Noah closed his mouth, the weight of his sister's words pressing him into silence. John turned to Emily, a glint of approval in his eyes, before his attention returned to Linda.
"You're older, but it seems you've lost your nerve," he said with a sharp grin, his voice dripping with mocking sweetness.
Linda bristled, but there was no denying the truth in his words. After a long pause, she responded with an edge to her voice. "Fine," she said, her words like a sharp slap. "I'll agree to your terms. But if you fail, I'll make sure you regret it. I'll have you leave your hands and feet behind at the Wood family's door."
The threat hung in the air, a promise of pain and humiliation should John fail. Even Noah and Emily froze, their faces pale at the brutal nature of the ultimatum.
John's lips curled into a twisted smile. "No problem. If I fail, I'll leave my hands and feet behind, just as you say."
"I hope you'll remember that," Linda sneered, her eyes narrowing in contempt.
She turned and led the way upstairs, with John following silently behind her. The tension was unbearable, but John's mind was already focused on the task ahead.
In Alton's bedroom, the atmosphere was heavy, suffocating. Alton lay motionless on the bed, his body weak and his breath shallow, as though he had one foot already in the grave. The smell of illness and decay clung to the room, thick and repugnant.
John took a moment to assess the scene, his gaze narrowing as he walked to the bedside. He stood there for a few seconds, his mind working with a cold, methodical focus.
"I need complete silence while I work," John said, his voice commanding. "Leave the room, and do not eavesdrop. If you do, you'll be responsible for any mistakes."
Noah muttered something under his breath, but Linda led the way out of the room, her heels clicking sharply against the floor as she and Emily followed him out.
Once the door was securely shut, John turned to Alton. The man's feeble state was a stark contrast to the power that John knew he could wield. His Lucifer's Eyes glowed faintly as a soft cyan light escaped from his forehead, scanning the room. The air felt thick with an unsettling presence—an evil energy, far stronger than he anticipated. It was no disease; this was something darker.
"You're lucky to meet me," John muttered, almost to himself, as he reached into his pocket for a piece of yellow paper he had prepared earlier. His fingers moved with precision as he pressed the paper between Alton's eyebrows, his eyes locked on the man's weak form.
A swirling energy filled the room as John's focus sharpened, his power concentrating. A seal appeared in the air, its shape shifting and swirling before merging with the yellow paper. The paper vanished with a faint hiss, releasing a vile, pungent odor that filled the room.
John continued his work, pressing several acupoints around Alton's head with practiced fingers, each move deliberate, each stroke calculated.
Fifteen minutes passed.
Alton's eyes flickered open, his voice weak as he whispered, "Doctor Lopez…"
John's hand held up, signaling for him to remain silent. "Don't speak. Just listen." His voice was firm, commanding.
"You're not ill," John continued. "You're possessed. Someone used dark magic to curse you. And the source of it… is in your pillow."
Alton's eyes widened in horror, and without a word, he scrambled to pull the pillow from his bed. He tore the cotton open, and inside, nestled within the fabric, was a small, bloodstained jade pendant.
Alton's face darkened with realization. "No wonder you warned me about those around me," he muttered. "Someone wanted me dead... but who?"
John's smile was grim. "Finding out who is easy. We'll just need you to play along."
Alton nodded, his voice thick with gratitude. "Thank you, Doctor Lopez. I owe you my life."