Ethan stood before the sink, the cold water from the faucet splashing against his palms, yet it couldn't wash away that feeling of being "hollowed out."
In just a few short minutes, his reflection in the mirror had turned pale, with dark circles under his eyes, looking as if half his life had been drained away.
"Casting five skills in a row all at once... that's a real death wish rhythm," he muttered to himself.
Compared to the previous two cancer treatments, he had used one more this time—Holy Word: Atonement.
The name of this skill was beautiful, but casting it felt like setting himself on fire.
He clearly felt the warm light that had originally been inside him completely recede, and even his thoughts began to turn sluggish.
"Did I just drain all my 'Mana' in one go?" He stared at his palm, lost in thought.
"What exactly do these skills consume?"
Over the past few years, he had been trying to find the answer: Mana? Mental strength?
But no matter how he measured it—through meditation, breathing exercises, or caffeine intake—nothing seemed to have any effect.
The only thing he could be sure of was that the more he practiced, the longer he could use them.
He couldn't help but complain internally: "It would be great to have a Mage nearby. With Conjure Water and Conjure Bread, I wouldn't have to worry about Mana regeneration at all."
He shook his head, flicking the water droplets off his hands, and turned back to the treatment room.
Walter White was sitting on the sofa, looking much more relaxed than before.
"Teacher White, how are you feeling?" Ethan asked, forcing himself to rally his spirits.
"I feel much better." The wrinkles at the corners of Walter's eyes had softened slightly. He let out a gentle breath, feeling a long-lost smoothness rising from the bottom of his lungs: "My breathing has become very clean, as if my lungs have been washed out."
Ethan didn't respond immediately, but instead walked over to the monitoring station to check the EKG.
The waveform on the screen was even and steady, with the heart rate dropping back to seventy-six.
He picked up the stethoscope again and pressed the chest piece against Walter's chest.
The sound of clear airflow came from deep within the lungs—no raspiness, no rales, smooth and full.
He nodded. "Very good. Breath sounds are normal, no obvious dry or wet rales. Gas exchange is smooth, and alveolar activity has significantly increased. It's much faster than I expected."
"When is the next treatment?" Walter's tone carried a hint of urgency. "I can't wait."
Ethan replied with a smile, "I suggest a month from now. Frequent treatments in a short period will significantly reduce the effectiveness." This was the experience he had gained from repeatedly casting Healing Spell on himself over a long period.
"That works out perfectly. I'll take this time to go home and get a check-up at the hospital," Walter said. "Maybe I'll wait a few days... I just hope this isn't a placebo effect."
"Alright," Ethan responded. The old man with the chainsaw had also waited a few days before going for a check-up. Perhaps more than doubting the Doctor, they were afraid of their hopes being dashed.
"How were the results for the previous Patient?" Walter asked suddenly.
"A brain cancer Patient. Before treatment, the Doctors thought it was inoperable and he only had 3 months left," Ethan replied. "After the first treatment, the tumor shrank by twenty percent. At least on the imaging. The Doctor recommended he undergo surgery."
"Then I hope I have that kind of luck as well." Walter's smile was filled with hope.
After a brief silence, he spoke again: "That Patient... how much did he pay?"
Ethan was stunned for a moment; he hadn't expected Teacher White to bring this up suddenly.
"One hundred thousand dollars."
"Oh—" Walter showed an expression that wasn't surprised—though he was startled, he also felt it was only natural.
"Can I pay in installments?"
"Of course you can."
"Then I'll give you thirty thousand first." Walter took a checkbook from his pocket and prepared to write the amount. "Wait until after this week to cash it. Preferably after next Monday."
"Teacher White, you can wait until after your check-up and pay when you come for the next treatment."
"That works too." Walter thought for a moment and put the checkbook back. " I'll try to pay it all at once then."
"Thank you, Teacher White, for choosing to believe in me."
"Don't say that, Ethan." Walter looked at him seriously. "I apologize for my doubt just now."
"It's okay, I completely understand," Ethan said with a smile.
Walter was silent for a while, his gaze falling on the EKG curve that was still flickering.
"Ethan," he suddenly spoke, "why don't you go public?
You can clearly improve a Patient's condition, even if you can't completely cure them.
At least you could let many people suffer a little less pain.
If you went public, people might not have so many questions before treatment."
Ethan was silent for a moment, then slowly took off the stethoscope.
"One reason is that my ability is limited." His voice was calm, but it hid a deep exhaustion. "As you saw, Teacher, I can barely hold myself up in my current state.
This might be a miracle, but the burden on the Doctor is too heavy, and I haven't found a way to let others learn it."
Walter frowned slightly. "But even so, your treatment method is still effective.
If this were made public—"
"—Then I would probably be taken out," Ethan interrupted with a smile. "I'm not joking."
He slowly leaned back in his chair.
"Do you know how much the United States spends on cancer every year?"
"Billions of dollars, I suppose." Walter nodded; these numbers were often reported in the news.
"More than that." Ethan shook his head. "If you factor in pharmaceutical companies, insurance, hospitals, and research grants, it's over one hundred and ninety billion dollars every year."
"Cancer isn't just a disease now; it's a business.
Those big companies, hospitals, insurance agencies, pharmaceutical giants... they all rely on it for operations, massive profits, and dividends.
If someone claimed to truly cure cancer... do you guess their first reaction would be to cheer and celebrate, or to choose to silence them? No one wants to give up a market worth hundreds of billions a year."
The air fell into a dead silence, leaving only the beeping of the EKG monitor.
After a long time, Walter said in a low voice, "So you're afraid?"
Ethan gave a bitter smile. "No, I just understand that I'm not a saint. I'm satisfied if I can let a few people benefit. I don't want to die mysteriously in the news."
Walter looked up at him, beginning to understand.
When the chemical reaction of money and power combines, any catalyst of 'hope' will be cleared away as an impurity.
He nodded slowly. "I'll help you keep the secret. I'll only recommend you if someone I trust nearby needs it."
"Thank you, Teacher White."
"No, it's I who should thank you." Walter looked at him earnestly. "If I really can get better, you haven't just saved me, you've saved my family."
Ethan smiled. "I only treated you. Your family is being saved by you yourself."
Walter smiled, then remembered something and said in a low voice, "One more thing—my son, he has mild cerebral palsy. Do you think... you can help him?"
Ethan thought for a moment. "I can't guarantee it, but I can try."
Walter nodded. "Then we'll make an appointment for next month. I'll bring him with me when I fly to New York."
"Alright. See you next month then."