Chapter 174: Please Revive Our Leader
It was already past six o'clock, yet Ethan and Helen were still at the clinic.
Lately, closing time had become increasingly unpredictable.
Not because of emergency cases.
Not because critically injured patients were suddenly flooding in.
There were simply... more people.
A little more each day.
The waiting times gradually stretched longer.
The chairs in the waiting area filled up more often, emptied, and then filled again with a new wave of patients.
Sitting in the examination room, Ethan looked down at the chart in front of him and rubbed his temples.
He remembered clearly that just a few weeks ago, at this time of day, he would either already be home or sitting in a Williamsburg restaurant waiting for dinner.
A gentle knock sounded at the door.
"One last patient," Helen called from outside.
"You okay? Want to take a break first?"
Ethan glanced at the clock.
"No need."
"Send them in."
The consultation was simple.
The treatment was quick.
Only a few minutes later, the patient left looking noticeably more relaxed than when they had arrived.
Ethan stood up and switched off the examination room lights.
Instead of leaving immediately, he remained standing in the darkness for a moment.
Only after the lingering tension slowly drained from his body did he head toward the front desk.
Helen was organizing the day's accounts.
Hearing his footsteps, she looked up.
"Have we gotten busier lately?" she asked.
"It's not just your imagination."
Ethan pulled off his gloves and tossed them into the trash.
"We haven't gotten off work on time for an entire week."
Helen closed the ledger and thought for a moment.
"Appointment numbers are definitely increasing."
"It's not some sudden spike."
"It's more like..."
She searched for the right words.
"A little more every single day."
"You think it's because of the Foundation?" Ethan asked.
"Maybe."
Even Helen wasn't sure.
"They're mostly ordinary patients."
"There are just more of them."
The people walking into the clinic weren't becoming more complicated.
They were simply normal patients.
Could the clinic finally be building a reputation?
Leaning against the counter, Ethan glanced around.
The waiting room was empty now.
But the faint smell of disinfectant and the lingering warmth left behind by a crowd still hung in the air.
"If this keeps up," he said, "we really need to hire someone."
"I was just thinking the same thing."
Helen nodded.
"The front desk is fine."
"But you can't keep doing this."
"Good doctors are hard to find," Ethan sighed.
"The right doctors are even harder to find," Helen added.
They exchanged a look.
Neither continued the conversation.
For Rayne Clinic, hiring staff had never been as simple as posting a job listing, conducting interviews, and making an offer.
They needed the right people.
People who could share responsibility.
People who could be trusted with certain secrets.
"Tomorrow I'll start turning away appointments earlier," Helen finally said.
"At least enough that we can finish before closing."
"For now, let's just keep managing."
Ethan stretched his back.
"By the way, Eve hasn't shown up these past few days."
"It's been surprisingly peaceful."
Helen smiled but didn't comment.
With Eve, "not showing up" didn't mean something had gone wrong.
If anything, it usually meant things were going well.
The bounty on her head still existed.
But the amount hadn't increased.
After a long string of failures, the assassins who had once come swarming toward her seemed to have finally realized she was far more trouble than she was worth.
One by one, they had begun to back off.
According to Eve, for reasons no one could quite explain, the cult had apparently stopped hunting her.
Did they disband or something? Ethan wondered.
Surely they hadn't suddenly let bygones be bygones and decided to forgive and forget.
"I'm heading out," he said, grabbing his coat.
"Drive safely," Helen reminded him.
Ethan nodded and pushed through the door.
The cold air hit him immediately, clearing some of the fatigue from his mind.
He walked toward his car, keys already in hand.
Then, just as he reached for the door—
He sensed someone behind him.
He barely had time to start turning around before a sharp sting exploded at the side of his neck.
A needle.
The injection was delivered with ruthless precision—perfect dosage, perfect angle, perfect timing.
Ethan caught a glimpse of a dark figure.
He managed to cast a shield on himself, but before he could even use Mind Scream, his consciousness plummeted.
Darkness swallowed his vision.
The last thought that crossed his mind before blacking out was:
Damn it. I've been kidnapped. There goes my kidney.
…
When he woke again, the first thing he noticed was the smell.
Preservatives mixed with blood.
Cold.
Sterile.
Unpleasant.
The air itself felt frigid.
Ethan slowly opened his eyes.
His vision was blurry.
His first instinct was to check his waist.
He patted both sides and let out a relieved breath.
"Good. Still got both kidneys."
After several seconds of adjusting to the darkness, he surveyed his surroundings.
It was an enclosed space.
Unlike a normal basement, it wasn't damp or moldy.
It was dry.
Clean.
Almost like a temporary morgue.
He checked himself.
His wrists and ankles were restrained, but not tightly.
Whoever had tied him up had intentionally left room for movement.
"You woke up earlier than expected."
A voice emerged from the darkness.
More than one person was present.
Ethan slowly raised his head.
The lights came on.
A harsh white beam shone directly from above.
He narrowed his eyes.
As his vision adjusted, he saw the "bed."
Actually, bed wasn't the right word.
It was a refrigerated mortuary cabinet.
Inside lay a corpse.
Pale skin.
Blue lips.
Collapsed chest.
No breathing.
No movement.
The man had been dead for a long time.
The body had clearly been prepared.
The wounds had been stitched.
The blood had been cleaned away.
Fresh clothes had been put on him.
It looked less like a corpse and more like someone waiting for an appointment.
"Doctor," the leader of the group said calmly.
"This is our leader."
"We would like you to bring him back to life."
His tone was so casual that it sounded as if he were asking for a refill of pain medication.
He gestured.
Another person dragged over a box and set it in front of Ethan.
The lid opened.
Inside were neatly stacked gold coins.
A blood oath marker.
And a bounty notice.
Eve Maccaro.
Ethan blinked.
What kind of absurd situation was this?
They opened negotiations with resurrection and offered a very generous payment.
Unfortunately, nowhere in the agreement between Rayne Clinic and the Continental was resurrection listed as a service.
The speaker remained at the edge of the light, his face hidden in shadow.
"You want me to revive this man?"
Ethan's tone softened.
"Who is he?"
"My father," the man replied immediately.
"Bring him back."
"The gold is yours."
"The blood marker is yours."
"And we'll remove the bounty on Eve Maccaro."
Why would I care about your bounty on Eve?
Ethan mentally rolled his eyes.
Then realization struck.
The dead man was the cult leader Eve had killed.
Which meant—
He glanced at the man's wrist.
Sure enough.
A distinctive cross-shaped scar.
The Cult.
Or rather, the Chancellor's Cult.
"Well," Ethan sighed.
"That explains a lot."
His gaze returned to the corpse.
Dead for weeks.
And people were still willing to go this far to bring him back.
The man had clearly been very good at running a cult.
"How long has he been dead?" Ethan asked.
"Not very long."
The answer came immediately.
"A few weeks."
"But we preserved him at low temperatures right away."
"His condition remains relatively intact."
Ethan almost laughed.
"A few weeks?"
"Are you serious?"
"Who told you someone can be resurrected after being dead for weeks?"
"Jesus came back after three days."
The man didn't seem offended.
"Before you appeared, we'd never heard of terminal illnesses being cured."
"We'd never heard of the dead returning to life either."
"Yet both have happened."
"So perhaps resurrection after a few weeks isn't impossible."
Ethan paused.
Annoyingly enough...
That actually made a certain amount of sense.
He had never tested how long someone could remain dead before becoming truly beyond saving.
Even when passing cemeteries, he'd never thought:
"Maybe I'll cast Mass Resurrection for fun."
Because what if it worked?
What if the entire graveyard got up?
Shoving the thought aside, he asked:
"So you kidnapped me just to revive him?"
"Not kidnapped," the man corrected.
"Invited."
"The method was merely... unconventional."
"We had no intention of harming you."
"No intention?"
Ethan rubbed his neck.
"It still hurts."
"My apologies, Doctor."
"The individual responsible has already been dealt with."
"Considering you're worth ten million dollars now, he wasn't willing to remain near us afterward."
"...What?"
Ethan had no idea what that meant and didn't care enough to ask.
"Why not come to the clinic?" he asked instead.
"Too dangerous."
"Too visible."
"We might not get in."
"And we might not get out."
"In fact," the man continued, "getting to this point cost us a great deal."
"Cost you?"
Ethan raised an eyebrow.
"Of course."
"Removing the protection points around your clinic cost us many people."
"We didn't want third parties becoming involved."
"This is only a transaction."
Protection points?
Ethan quickly pieced things together.
Apparently, someone had been protecting him this entire time.
Probably since Old James upgraded the clinic's security.
He distinctly remembered refusing that suggestion.
Clearly nobody had listened.
Although...
Looking at the current situation, maybe it hadn't been entirely unnecessary.
Still, if you're going to assign bodyguards, could you at least send competent ones?
A cult managed to wipe them out.
He decided not to dwell on it.
"How did you find me?" he asked.
"If someone investigates hard enough, they'll find anything."
"It simply costs more."
"The blood oath involving John Wick has been fulfilled."
"But Gianna is alive."
The man's eyes remained fixed on him.
"That means she died."
"And someone brought her back."
"Now, the doctor closest to John Wick is you."
Ethan fell silent.
"So your logic is..."
"Eve Maccaro killed our leader."
"Revenge achieved."
"You revive our leader."
"Everything balances out."
"Everyone walks away."
"No more conflict."
Ethan nearly laughed.
They're exploiting loopholes now?
What is wrong with this world?
People never learned the right lessons.
But they mastered bizarre shortcuts with frightening speed.
He was preparing to refuse.
Then the man spoke again.
"Doctor."
"You remain neutral."
"That is best for you."
"If someone hadn't prevented us from entering your clinic, we wouldn't have needed these methods."
"So please."
"Continue remaining neutral."
Ethan let out a long sigh.
The argument was frustratingly reasonable.
Neutrality really did seem like the safest position.
He nodded as though convinced.
The man stepped forward and removed his restraints.
As Ethan stretched his wrists, he discreetly assessed the room.
Too many people.
Men and women alike.
Most were injured.
All of them radiated the aura of seasoned killers.
The strange thing was that none had asked him to heal them.
Not one.
All they cared about was reviving their leader.
Ethan was almost touched.
How charismatic had this cult leader been?
Then again, the word cult suddenly felt extremely appropriate.
He casually activated a shield on himself.
The moment it appeared, the man seemed to sense something.
His eyes flicked toward Ethan.
But he saw nothing.
Ethan casually asked,
"Is this everyone?"
"You all look pretty beaten up."
"As I said earlier."
The man answered calmly.
"Removing the protection points cost us heavily."
He paused.
"This isn't everyone."
"But there aren't many of us left."
"Some left."
"Some died."
"The ones who remain are loyal to our leader."
"If you revive my father..."
"We'll disappear forever."
Not just loyal.
Elite.
Ethan nodded.
He walked toward the corpse.
The refrigeration unit hummed softly.
The sound seemed unnaturally loud inside the enclosed space.
He opened the lid and extended a hand.
Holy Light gathered in his palm.
The radiance compressed itself into a single point.
It was as though an entire day's sunlight had been forced into the center of his hand.
The air began to vibrate.
Dust particles froze and spun around the light.
The edges burned gold.
The center was pure white.
Bright enough to hurt the eyes.
Ethan shifted his hand slightly.
The light did not descend toward the corpse.
Instead, it shot past the refrigeration unit and struck the leader directly.
"Holy Fire."
Sacred flames consume the enemy, dealing immense Holy damage instantly and continuing to burn them afterward.
BOOM.
The blast hit perfectly.
The man's entire body erupted into blazing light.
The flames seemed to ignite from within, tearing through him like a miniature sun.
The Holy Fire lasted less than a second.
Then it vanished.
When the light faded—
Nothing remained where he had stood.
No body.
No ashes.
No blood.
Everything had been purified by the overwhelming heat and Holy Light.
The spot was completely empty.
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