Chapter 10: Treatment

"Oh? Wasn't this young man also invited to help treat the patient? Why don't we all go in together? If there's anything unclear, we can discuss it as a group." Milo glanced at Maxwell, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly before turning to Emmanuel. "Yes, since Odin brought him here, he must have some skills. Why not go in and take a look? If you have any insights, feel free to share them." Emmanuel's eyes lit up as he turned to Maxwell, but the teasing glint in his gaze was impossible to hide. Hearing this, Odin hesitated, looking over at Maxwell. At this point, even he wasn't sure if Maxwell could cure his grandfather. "This isn't an illness—it's not something you can treat." Maxwell listened to their conversation, his expression indifferent. He shot the two men a glance before approaching the tightly shut door. If his guess was correct, the old man was inside. Even from the entrance, he could see faint traces of black energy seeping through the doorframe. "Oh? It seems this young man has some insight. Why don't you share your thoughts so we can all learn something?" Milo's face instantly darkened. As a doctor who had earned a top-tier reputation in the country by age twenty-seven, being ignored was infuriating. He never tolerated such disrespect, and rage boiled in his chest. The crowd fell silent, all eyes shifting between Maxwell and Milo. The tension in the air was palpable. "The old man is haunted." Maxwell's voice was calm as he observed the ominous black energy swirling at the door. For a brief moment, there was silence. Then, the entire room erupted into laughter. "Haunted? So, you're a ghost hunter? I must say, I didn't expect that." "I never thought I'd see such nonsense in this day and age. A kid running around pretending to be an exorcist. This is hilarious!" Everyone stared at Maxwell as if he were a joke. They had expected him to offer a legitimate medical explanation, but instead, he was talking about ghosts. Even Odin's expression grew awkward. He hadn't expected the person he brought back to be so unreliable. If he had known, he would never have trusted Maxwell in the first place. Odin let out a sigh. He knew he was in trouble. Once this was over, someone would undoubtedly punish him for bringing back a fraud. "This is ridiculous!" Jonathan Lousvet shot Odin a fierce glare. Thankfully, no outsiders were present—otherwise, the embarrassment would have been unbearable. Milo no longer paid any attention to Maxwell. Milo knew Maxwell had sealed his fate the moment he spoke. To make such outrageous claims at the Lousvet Residence—was he not afraid of the consequences? Imagining Maxwell's inevitable downfall, Milo saw no need to argue further. There was no point in debating with a dead man. With that thought, he stepped into the old man's room. Jonathan let out a breath of relief. He had complete confidence in Milo—after all, his reputation was among the best in the country. However, half an hour passed as the crowd waited outside with no word from inside. Jonathan began to feel uneasy, though his composure remained intact. An hour went by. Still, there was no movement or news. Two hours passed, and the door remained firmly shut. At this point, Jonathan could no longer sit still. This wasn't surgery—why was it taking so long? Just as he reached for the door, it creaked open. Before he could speak, Milo stumbled out, his face pale with terror. "There's a ghost! There's a ghost inside!" Milo screamed as he ran, his voice shaking with panic. His frightened expression sent a shiver down everyone's spine, and they instinctively stepped back. "Dr. Hayde!" Jonathan's brows furrowed as he grabbed Milo by the collar, barking his name sharply. The sound jolted Milo's body, but instead of responding, he collapsed in a dead faint. The atmosphere in the room shifted, and everyone's expressions grew serious. Remembering Maxwell's earlier words, a creeping unease settled over them. Jonathan looked down at the unconscious Milo, his mind racing. If he hadn't known Milo, he might have thought this was a scheme—some elaborate act orchestrated by Maxwell to swindle money. But Milo wasn't the type to play such tricks. A heavy silence settled over the hall. Moments ago, they had laughed at Maxwell's claim. But now, it didn't seem so funny anymore. "Mr. Hewetson, is my grandfather haunted?" Odin's voice carried a hint of satisfaction as he spoke. The people who had mocked him for bringing Maxwell here were utterly stunned. Looking at their dumbfounded faces, Odin couldn't help but feel so pleased that he momentarily forgot that he had also doubted Maxwell just moments ago. "If my assessment is correct, then yes." Maxwell gave Odin a calm glance before nodding. As an Immortal Emperor, how could he possibly be mistaken? "Mr. Hewetson, can you help us deal with it?" Odin wasted no time. He knew no one else would dare to ask, so he took the initiative. While he would have loved to see his detractors squirm a bit longer, his grandfather's life was at stake. There was no room for games. Maxwell nodded. "I'll give it a try." He had already wasted enough time. He just needed to resolve this, claim his reward, and leave. With that, Maxwell strode toward the old man's room. Jonathan hesitated. He didn't want to let Maxwell enter, but he feared that if he interfered, Maxwell might turn around and leave. After a moment's thought, he held back, letting Maxwell enter without obstruction. Inside the room, Maxwell shut the door behind him. His gaze immediately fell on the old man lying in bed. Compared to the last time he saw him, the old man's condition had worsened significantly. Even the once-bright golden light surrounding him had dimmed considerably. "If not for this Blessed Aureate Glow, you would've passed away long ago." With a single sweep of his gaze, Maxwell saw the situation. The only thing keeping the old man alive was the lingering glow. "You dare cause trouble here?" A surge of spiritual energy radiated from Maxwell's body as a black mist lunged toward him. His eyes narrowed. He formed a seal with his right hand and met the dark energy head-on. A shrill wail echoed through the room. At that moment, the old man took a deep breath, his breathing stabilizing. Before leaving, Maxwell scanned the room one last time, ensuring no lingering threats remained.