Victor's fingers stilled on the jade ring as his gaze drifted toward Old Master Quinn. His expression remained calm, almost indifferent, as if everything unfolding before him was already within his expectations. Without looking away, he spoke softly, "Mr. Foster, where is the medical team?"
The butler stepped forward immediately, glancing at his watch before replying with quiet confidence, "Sir, the helicopter has already entered Skyhaven airspace. It will arrive within a minute."
Victor nodded faintly, a subtle smile forming at the corner of his lips. "Good," he said. His eyes flickered toward Lucas for a brief moment, filled with a trace of cold amusement. "Let him perform. The higher he climbs, the harder he falls."
Behind the main hall, chaos had already erupted. Chairman Quinn forced his way through the crowd, his face pale as he reached the rosewood chair. Old Master Quinn's breathing was erratic, his chest rising violently as a streak of dark blood clung to the corner of his lips. His body trembled weakly, as if his life could slip away at any moment.
Sophia collapsed beside him, clutching his hand tightly as tears streamed down her face. "Grandpa, wake up! Please wake up!" Her voice broke with desperation. Around her, the Quinn family panicked—some shouting for an ambulance, others urging people to move back—but no one dared step forward to actually help. Fear had frozen them in place.
Then a cold voice cut through the noise. "Move."
Lucas stepped forward, and the crowd instinctively parted for him. At that moment, he was no longer the man who had been humiliated earlier. His posture was steady, his gaze sharp, and an overwhelming confidence surrounded him, as if life and death were nothing more than something he could control at will.
Chairman Quinn reacted immediately, anger and panic mixing in his voice. "Lucas! What are you trying to do? My father is dying and you still want to cause trouble?"
Lucas didn't even look at him. "If you want him to live, then shut up." His tone was calm, but absolute. The authority in his words froze Chairman Quinn where he stood.
With a flick of his wrist, Lucas produced a worn leather pouch. As he opened it, rows of silver needles gleamed under the light, each one different in size yet equally precise. A murmur spread through the crowd as someone gasped in disbelief, recognizing what they were seeing.
Lucas exhaled slowly, his expression turning focused. "Watch carefully," he said, his voice low but clear. "This is something your money can never buy."
A faint buzzing sound filled the air as the needle in his hand began to tremble without any visible force. Gasps erupted around him. Even those who didn't understand what they were seeing could feel that something extraordinary was happening.
Lucas moved. His hand was fast, precise, and unwavering. One needle after another pierced into Old Master Quinn's body with perfect accuracy. His movements carried a strange rhythm, as if each action was part of a greater, unseen pattern.
For a brief moment after the final needle was placed, everything went silent.
Then Old Master Quinn's body convulsed violently. A hoarse cough escaped his throat as his fingers twitched. Slowly, color began returning to his pale face, and his breathing grew stronger, heavier—alive.
The crowd erupted instantly. Shock, disbelief, and excitement spread like wildfire. Sophia froze for a second before bursting into tears, gripping her grandfather's hand even tighter. "Grandpa…"
Old Master Quinn's eyes snapped open, bloodshot yet filled with life. He gasped for air as if he had just clawed his way back from the brink of death.
"A miracle… this is a miracle!" someone shouted. The atmosphere shifted completely. The same people who had doubted Lucas moments ago now looked at him with awe and admiration.
Sophia looked at him with tear-filled eyes, her voice trembling with gratitude. "Lucas… thank you. I knew you could do it."
Lucas stood up slowly, putting away the needles as if what he had just done was nothing extraordinary. He placed his hands behind his back, lifting his chin slightly as he accepted the gazes directed at him. For the first time that night, he stood at the center—not as someone to be mocked, but as someone beyond reach.
Then he turned and looked directly at Victor. His eyes were filled with provocation, as if silently declaring victory.
Victor met his gaze without the slightest change in expression.
Lucas let out a faint sneer. "So this is your power, Victor Hale? Using money to crush people? But what now? I saved him. The Quinn family stands, and your little game is over."
He stepped forward, his voice turning colder. "I'll give you one chance. Apologize to Sophia and the Quinn family. Otherwise…" He paused slightly, lowering his voice. "I don't just save lives. I can take them too."
The hall fell silent again as everyone waited for Victor's response.
Then Victor smiled. It wasn't anger or embarrassment—it was pure amusement. He raised his hand and clapped slowly, the sound echoing clearly in the quiet hall.
"Impressive," he said calmly. "Truly impressive."
His eyes suddenly turned sharp, the warmth in them disappearing instantly. "A perfect murder performance."
Lucas's expression darkened. "What did you just say?"
Victor tilted his head slightly, his gaze piercing. "You call that medical skill? Burning a man's remaining life force to create a temporary illusion of recovery?" His voice dropped, cold and precise. "You didn't save him. You accelerated his death."
For the first time, Lucas's confidence wavered. A flicker of unease passed through his eyes.
At that exact moment, the thunderous roar of helicopter blades echoed from above. The windows trembled, and strong winds sent the curtains flying wildly. Before anyone could react, the doors burst open and a team of medical professionals rushed in, their movements swift and disciplined.
Victor didn't even turn to look at them. He simply said, "Check him. I want exact data."
Lucas stood there, motionless.
And for the first time since he stepped forward—
He felt something was wrong.