Chapter 5: Blood Calamity

"Huh? T-two hundred thousand?" Dorian Zimmerman's eyes flew wide. It felt like he was being shaken down. He had hired someone to steal $20,000. How did it balloon into $200,000 overnight? This was insane-loan sharks charging by the minute weren't this fast. It was daylight robbery. The number made his chest ache. He hesitated, then met Omar Zorn's icy stare and shivered. "I'll pay! I'll pay right now!" He pulled out his phone and transferred the money on the spot. Shane Yale watched the balance jump by six figures and nodded, satisfied. "I'm letting you off cheap this time. Now beat it." Dorian and Tanner ran out of the hospital as if pardoned from death row. When the farce ended, Omar Zorn had his men wheel Darwin into the ICU. Walker tugged Shane into the director's office. Walker's expression was a knot of gratitude and shame. After shutting the door, he raised his hand and slapped himself twice. "Doctor Yale, thank you for saving me. I was out of line before." He knew full well that if Shane hadn't saved Darwin, Omar would have had his head. By that measure, Shane had saved his life. Shane frowned. "I didn't set out to save you. You don't need to thank me." He felt no warmth toward the man and turned to leave. "Doctor Yale, there's something else," Walker said quickly. "I was wrong about the organ donation. Orders came from above, and with your sister's condition, we truly had no options…" Shane had little interest in excuses. "Anything else?" "Yes." Walker glanced at the closed door and lowered his voice. "The hospital director said some big shot's kid has a terminal illness, and your sister, Miss Cassandra Yale, is a match. The donation didn't go through this time, but you should be careful. I'm afraid they'll… you know." "Got it." Shane nodded. His impression of Walker shifted for the better. The man still had a bottom line. "This is my number. Call me if there's any news." He left his phone number and walked out, not dwelling on it. Cassandra had fully recovered; there was no longer any possibility of donating anything. As for that so‑called big shot, to the heir of the Ancient Medical Sect, such people were nothing. Outside, he rejoined his mother and sister, and the three of them left the hospital together. At the entrance, Mia Looske pulled her son aside, anxious. "Shane, what on earth happened today? Tell me properly." Everything felt too surreal. She still couldn't believe it. Shane knew what his mom wanted to ask and had already prepared a story. "I learned medicine from an old man with a white beard. He told me not to use it unless it was critical. I didn't even know if it worked. Today I couldn't borrow the money, and Cass was in danger, so I took a gamble. I didn't expect it to work. Since it does, there's no point hiding it, so I saved Darwin Zorn too." "Oh." Mia nodded, hesitant. It sounded reasonable, yet something felt off. As they spoke, a Maybach behind them chirped-beep, beep-and a middle‑aged man in a sharp suit strode over. Shane gave him a glance, then frowned. "A black cloud over your crown. Bad omen. You're headed for bloodshed-your life's in danger." The words slipped out. Simon Scurr was rushing to meet an important client when someone at his side told him he faced bloodshed. Heat surged up his neck. "Kid, shut your damn mouth. If I wasn't in a hurry, I'd make you eat those words." He shot Shane a glare, yanked open the Maybach's door, and slid in. The engine turned over. Behind him, Shane raised his voice. "Remember this-find me before noon and I can resolve it. After that, even a god can't save you!" "Damn it, ran into a lunatic," Simon muttered, not taking a single word to heart. He sped off. Mia hadn't expected her son to say that and scolded, "Shane, don't talk to people like that. You'll cause trouble." "I know, Mom," Shane said with a shrug. Healers had a duty. As the Ancient Medical Sect's heir, he had seen mortal danger hovering over the man and had spoken up. He had offered a lifeline. If the other man didn't take it, that wasn't on him. Simon pushed the car hard, but he hadn't gone far when an SUV from the opposite lane suddenly careened toward him, clearly out of control. He tried to swerve, but the distance was too short and the speed too high. The two cars smashed head‑on. Bang. A sickening crunch. The other driver never even hit the brakes. The impact was brutal. Both the SUV and the Maybach crumpled at the front. Luckily, he wore his seat belt and the Maybach's safety systems were first‑rate. Every airbag went off. Aside from his nose gushing blood, he wasn't badly hurt. Simon shook his head, forcing his dazed mind to clear, and climbed out. Two traffic cops jogged up. Seeing the blood on his face, one asked, "Sir, are you all right? Do you need a hospital?" "I'm fine-" He never finished. His foot found empty air and he dropped with a jolt. A manhole cover flipped beneath him, and he plunged into the storm drain. The airbags had left his nose bleeding; now his whole face was a mess. "What the hell? What is this? My luck is cursed!" With help from the two officers and some bystanders, he finally clambered out. He had barely sat on the edge to catch his breath when an electric scooter barreled into him. Wham. Fresh out of the drain, Simon toppled backward and fell straight back in. "What the-what's with this guy? He's jinxed." "That cover looked fine. How'd he fall right through it?" "I'm dying here. He just climbed out and got knocked back in. Picked the wrong day to leave the house…" They hauled him up again. This time his scalp was bleeding. The scooter had split his head. Hearing the laughter around him and seeing fresh blood on his hands, Simon felt a cold jolt of fear. That young man had been right. He really did face a blood calamity. A car crash might be an accident. Falling through a manhole might be a fluke. But three disasters in a row? Anyone could see this wasn't normal. He remembered Shane's last warning-after noon, even the gods couldn't help-and realized he might die at any moment. His face changed. He didn't even stay to sort out the accident. He ran. But when he reached where the Maybach had been, Shane was nowhere to be found. "Find someone for me. Around twenty. Move, and make it fast…" He fumbled for his phone and dialed. As the boss of Prosperity Property, he had the pull in Skynos to find a man quickly. But it was less than two hours to noon. He was running out of time.