Chapter 8: A Desperate Call For Help

Maxwell had no idea about Isabella's conversation with Chris, and he did not realize Chris' words had only made Isabella despise him even more. After returning to his room, Maxwell sat cross-legged and resumed his training. The spiritual energy within him was still far too weak. Earlier, when he had tried to save someone, he had barely managed to do so. For someone who had once possessed the power to destroy an entire planet with a flick of his finger, this was a significant blow to his pride. That night, Maxwell pushed himself harder than ever in his training. The following day, as Maxwell made his way to the company, Taylor had already arrived early. Even now, her face still held an expression of disbelief. After hearing Maxwell's words the previous day, Taylor had inexplicably decided to take Emiliano, the client, to the location Maxwell had mentioned. During dinner, Emiliano suddenly suffered a heart attack, nearly scaring Taylor out of her wits. Panicked and unsure of what to do, she suddenly recalled that there was a large pharmacy next door. She rushed over, bought emergency medication, and fed it to Emiliano—saving his life just in time. Having narrowly escaped death, Emiliano was immensely grateful to Taylor. He admitted that he had forgotten to bring his heart medication and repeatedly thanked her for choosing that particular restaurant and for acting quickly to save him. Out of gratitude, he signed the contract without hesitation. Even after returning home, Taylor remained in a daze. A single question had plagued her all night: Did Maxwell already know Emiliano had a heart condition? Was that why he had told her to take him there? But even if Maxwell somehow knew, how could he possibly have predicted the exact moment Emiliano would have an attack? Their company's records contained no mention of Emiliano's heart condition. So how had Maxwell known? And how had he been so eerily accurate? The more she thought about it, the more tangled her thoughts became. Maxwell told her that going to the southwest, ten miles from the company, would sign the contract. Without Maxwell's reminder, Taylor would have brought Emiliano to other places, and she might fail her mission. The more she thought about it, the more tangled her thoughts became. As a modern professional, she didn't believe in the supernatural. Yet, the incident was too bizarre. Yesterday, Maxwell had claimed he had "calculated" it. Thinking about it now sent chills down her spine. But there was no point in overthinking it. She would ask Maxwell when she saw him. Besides, the most important thing was that the contract was signed—a huge deal. Taylor took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. "Taylor, how did it go? Did you seal the deal?" When Taylor stepped into the office, her colleagues swarmed around her, eager for an answer. Everyone knew Emiliano's importance, so they were anxious to find out. "Of course! Do you think there's a client I can't win over?"  Taylor said smugly, letting out a proud huff. She then pulled out the signed contract and placed it on the table. Her coworkers immediately rushed forward. A cheer erupted in the office when they saw that the agreement was signed. "By the way, has Maxwell arrived yet?"  Taylor scanned the room, but he was nowhere to be seen. She frowned slightly—there was something she needed to ask him. Not seeing him here made her anxious. However, her expression didn't go unnoticed by her coworkers, who immediately started teasing her. "Wow, just one night apart, and you already miss him this much? And you say nothing is going on between you two." "Not just one night. You didn't see him all afternoon yesterday either. Poor thing, they must be in the honeymoon phase—how could she possibly endure such a long separation?" "I don't care, but I think Briella will be heartbroken." Since they were all colleagues and familiar with each other, the teasing quickly spiraled out of control. "It's not what you think!" Taylor protested, flustered. "I just have something important to ask him. Yesterday—" She nearly blurted out what had happened but hesitated. The whole thing was just too bizarre.  Even she, who had experienced it firsthand, found it hard to believe. How could she possibly expect them to take her seriously? So, she decided to keep quiet. "Isn't that him over there?" Maxwell appeared at the entrance just as Taylor's coworkers were about to continue teasing her. Seeing him, they wisely held back—lighthearted jokes among colleagues were acceptable, but making such comments in front of an outsider, especially a man, was inappropriate. Everyone knew where to draw the line. "You're here! I was just about to ask you something." Taylor let out a relieved sigh. The question had been eating away at her all night, and if she didn't get an answer soon, she felt like she might go crazy. Just as she was about to speak, a voice called out from the doorway. "Excuse me, is Mr. Hewetson here?" Everyone turned to see two men in black suits standing by the door, accompanied by a well-dressed young man.  The moment the young man spotted Maxwell, his face lit up with relief, and he hurried over. "Greetings, Mr. Hewetson! I was the one standing beside my grandfather that day. My grandfather is in danger. Please, you must save him!" As soon as he finished speaking, he bowed deeply. Even the men in black behind him followed suit, lowering their heads in respect. Maxwell frowned and spoke in a cold voice. "Didn't I already warn your grandfather that day? He didn't believe me then, and now that something has happened, you come running to me?" He had always believed in prevention rather than cure—if someone took precautions, trouble could be avoided. But once misfortune struck, fixing things became much more complicated. Besides, the young man's grandfather had ignored his warning. Now that something had happened, they suddenly wanted his help. Maxwell found this kind of situation tiresome. "Please, Mr. Hewetson!" The young man pleaded sincerely. "My grandfather has spent his whole life doing good. He's never harmed anyone. I beg you, help him!" Hearing this, Maxwell furrowed his brows, recalling the golden light he had seen around the old man that day. People like him did not deserve such a fate. With a sigh, Maxwell gave a slight nod. "Taylor, I need to take some time off," Maxwell said, turning to her with a smile—an entirely different demeanor from the cold indifference he had just shown to the young man. Taylor nodded.  "Go ahead. If it's a life-or-death matter, you should handle it." She was growing more and more confused about Maxwell. Yesterday, he seemed like a fortune teller. Now, he appeared to be a healer, too. Judging by the young man's demeanor, he was from a distinguished family. Yet he had come straight to Maxwell as if utterly convinced that Maxwell was the only one who could save his grandfather. Even when Maxwell had spoken coldly, the young man hadn't shown the slightest hint of displeasure. Something was off. But as she thought about it, she realized it was too exhausting to keep wondering, so she stopped trying to make sense of it.