“The poison is not deadly, but the longer it stays inside her, the more deadly it becomes,” Collin said, pressing a few spots on Phoebe’s body. “I don’t have any medicine with me, so I can only try to keep it from accelerating any further.”
“What kind of medication do you need?” Stanford frowned.
“Common drugs will suffice.” But they were being pursued now, so slowing down and getting medication was risky.
“I’ll have her treated once we’re out of Farnfoss City, she’ll live,” Collin said after a brief pause.
Stanford noticed Phoebe was pale as a ghost and gasping for air with her mouth wide open in the rearview mirror.
Her expression as she gasped for air with her bloody mouth wide open was difficult to look at; one could easily tell she was suffocating and in pain.
The group Timothy fought with were not the only men Theodore sent over; his people were all over the city and he must have set up roadblocks and been ready to ambush them on their way out of town.
It was unclear whether they would be able to leave the city safely; they could try, but Phoebe couldn’t wait.
Stanford frowned, biting his lower lip. He gripped the steering wheel tightly and abruptly turned towards the busy street.
“Where are you going. This is the wrong way,” Collin exclaimed, taken aback.
Being exposed on a busy street was more dangerous, but Stanford sped up without saying anything and eventually stopped in front of a clinic. He then quickly got off the car and carried Phoebe who was half-unconscious out.
Collin became nervous, saying, “Don’t tell me you want Phoebe treated right now; there are surveillance cameras everywhere, and Theodore’s men will be here in five minutes.”
And they’d be surrounded again if they went into the clinic now, which was a bad idea given the danger they were in.
Stanford didn’t stop moving; he strode into the clinic carrying Phoebe, and told Collin, “Come in!”
Collin took a look around and limped in, dragging his injured body.
When two men covered in blood entered the clinic carrying a half-dead woman, everyone in the clinic was stunned and shouting for doctors.
“What happened?” one of the doctors asked, standing a few meters away. “Do you require medical attention? We don’t have the necessary facilities because this is a small clinic. There’s a hospital five hundred meters away that can do the operation for you.”
Stanford ignored everyone else and sat Phoebe on the sofa in the reception area.
He cast a glance around, and his gaze was drawn to the drugstore.
“Go get what you need, Collin,” he said.
Collin was perplexed, ‘Do I get what I need or do I snatch what I want?’
But he understood Stanford’s intent; he wanted him to get some medicine to treat Phoebe. Nothing was untreatable once Collin had medicine in his hand.
Collin dashed to the drugstore, but a few doctors became nervous and quickly blocked the door, saying, “You are severely injured and are not permitted to self-medicate. We could give you an emergency treatment before taking you to the hospital, okay?”
“Get out of the way!” Stanford yelled coldly. The atmosphere in the reception area had turned cold, implying dread and death.
The doctors who were blocking the doors trembled and almost fell to the ground as they were stared at.
Their hearts leaped into their throats and moved out of the way on their own.
Collin limped into the drugstore, supporting himself with his hand on the wall.
He first took a broad glance at everything and took what he wanted.
The doctors were dumbfounded as they watched Collin rob their drugstore. This was unacceptable; bank robberies were common, but drugstore robberies were unprecedented.
“Police, call the cops,” one of the doctors said, gesturing to the nurse behind him.
Looking at Stanford, who was covered in blood, the nurse couldn’t move an inch, let alone call the cops.
The doctor gritted his teeth as he stared at the terrifying nurses before discreetly pulling out his phone and dialing 911.
He moved swiftly and cautiously, fearful that Stanford would find out.
Stanford remained motionless beside Phoebe and chose to ignore when the doctor made the call.
He had been trained to be hyper-vigilant since childhood, and he was aware of his actions but didn’t care. His main adversary was Theodore, who would arrive faster and attack more ruthlessly.
Meanwhile, dozens of guards appeared from various directions on the street and rushed forward, blocking all ways out with their car. Some of them stormed the clinic, brandishing stun guns batons.
“Kill Stanford, he’s inside!”
When they saw the group of men in black, the people on the busy street screamed and ran for their lives. Some onlookers from the tall building were also petrified.
The guards kicked the door open, fully armed and ready to fight.
But there was only a pool of blood on the floor and a crowd of shivering nurses, doctors, and patients inside the clinic.
“Where are the three seriously injured people?” One of the guards inquired.
“That way, they went that way,” a doctor said, pointing his trembling finger at the door behind the hallway.
On the door was written patient room.
“Search and kill on the spot!” said the guards’ leader after a brief pause.
“Yes!” The guards responded in unison before storming into the patient room.
The terrified group realized that the three they had just met were nothing to be afraid of in comparison to these people in black.
Collin robbed their drugstore but left them with a bank card; these men in black, however, came in with the intent to kill!
The clinic was small, and the guards searched all over the place in a nick of time but couldn’t find any of them.
“I guess they got away, captain.”
“That’s not possible; they’ve only been here a few minutes, and the men guarding the back door haven’t seen them either.”
“I found something, captain.”
At this precise moment, a guard stormed in.