At first, it was just a strange dream, nothing to be suspicious of. But as time passed, Mark Beveridge’s health began to deteriorate. No matter how much he ate, he felt constantly drained of energy.
Now, he could do nothing but lie in bed, completely unable to muster the strength to walk.
After Katelyn finished describing Mark Beveridge’s condition, she added, “This is just the beginning of Mark’s illness. It’s not going to be simple! Dr. Scott, can you really cure him?”
This was the second time Katelyn had asked Kayden the same question, her tone filled with doubt.
Kayden let out a faint snort and replied, “I’ll know once I take a look. It’s not a big deal.”
Hearing this, Katelyn couldn’t help but size up the young man again. He looked to be no more than twenty-five or twenty-six, but there was something different about him.
Unlike the other doctors Katelyn had brought in before, who would laugh and boast about their experiences with rare and complex cases, Kayden didn’t brag. Those previous doctors always acted overly confident, dismissing Mark Beveridge’s condition as trivial. Yet, when it came time to treat him, they all failed-miserably.
This man, however, said very little. After that single sentence, he fell silent, gazing out the window as if Mark’s illness was of no concern to him. It was as though he was completely indifferent, which gave Katelyn an odd feeling.
Did his nonchalance mean the illness wasn’t serious in his eyes? Or was it something else?
Perhaps he was just that capable.
Before long, a black G-Class SUV pulled into the Blood Guild headquarters.
The building had a distinctly classical style. Walking inside felt like stepping into an ancient structure.
Kayden and the group made their way through narrow paths before arriving at the door to a spacious living room. Inside, a crowd of people-men and women alike-were seated, while guards stood watch along the walls.
Of course, this was the Blood Guild headquarters, and heavy security was a given.
One of the doctors present broke the silence. “In my opinion, Mr. Beveridge’s illness stems from his mind, not his body. The root of the problem is psychological. My equipment has already run extensive tests, and there’s no sign of any physical abnormalities.”
Another doctor chimed in, “I’ve conducted a full-body examination as well. His condition is peculiar. Apart from his weakness, all his organs are functioning normally. There’s no sign of disease. Even the lab results came back spotless.”
Various medical devices were scattered throughout the room, clearly brought in by the assembled doctors.
Despite their expertise, none of them could identify the cause of Mark Beveridge’s condition. They were all masters of their respective fields, skilled in operating state-of-the-art medical instruments. Yet even with their knowledge and tools, they were utterly baffled, unable to diagnose what was wrong with him.
As the group of doctors grew more disheartened, someone suddenly asked, “What do you think?”
A silver-haired man with a long beard sighed and shook his head. “In my forty years of practicing medicine, I’ve never seen anything like this. His pulse is steady, his heart and lungs are intact-he looks perfectly healthy. The cause is unknown, so there’s no treatment we can offer.”
Another doctor echoed, “Exactly. I’ve never encountered anything like this before. Without identifying the root cause, there’s nothing we can do!”
The gathered doctors, regardless of their specialties, were at their wits’ end. Mark Beveridge’s symptoms were completely unprecedented.
Amid the murmurs of frustration, a woman adorned in gold jewelry turned to a middle-aged man in a suit and asked, “Edwin, didn’t Katelyn bring in a doctor from Inassea? Where is he? Has he arrived yet?”
The man, Edwin, was in his forties, slightly overweight, with a mustache adorning his upper lip. He nodded and replied, “She went out to pick him up. They should be here soon.”
The woman, Erik’s wife, smirked and remarked sarcastically, “Honestly, Edwin, most doctors these days are frauds. They treat one or two cases and then start bragging about their skills. Haven’t you noticed how many of the doctors we’ve hired turned out to be complete phonies?”
Her words carried a hint of ridicule, as well as an air of schadenfreude.
Lately, the three Beveridge brothers had been at their wits’ end trying to find a cure for Mark’s mysterious illness. With no other options, they had resorted to gathering as many doctors as possible to brainstorm a solution. It was a desperate, last-ditch effort.
Edwin, clearly annoyed, snapped back, “What are you trying to say?”
Erik’s wife chuckled dryly. “Oh, nothing. I’m just worried you’re being scammed again.”
Mark Beveridge, despite his current bedridden state, held a significant position within the Blood Guild. His illness had sparked a quiet competition among the family members.
Whoever cured Mark would undoubtedly earn his favor, giving them a significant advantage in vying for the Guild Master’s position. As a result, the family spared no effort in seeking out renowned doctors from across the country.
Edwin, having found what seemed to be a reliable doctor, had stirred unease in both Erik and Harris. Deep down, they couldn’t help but feel competitive.
“This doctor was recommended by my father-in-law,” Edwin explained. “He has a solid reputation and once saved several lives in Inassea. If even my father-in-law praises his skills, he must be exceptional.”
Harris chuckled, his tone dripping with skepticism. “Let’s hope he’s as capable as they say.”
Just then, a woman in a red gown descended the staircase, accompanied by several attendants.
The woman was in her early fifties but carried herself with such grace and poise that she exuded an air of authority. Every step she took was measured, commanding attention. She looked like an empress from a bygone era.
The room fell silent as everyone stood up and greeted her in unison, “Madam.”
She was Bryanna, Mark Beveridge’s wife. Despite her age, Bryanna still possessed a beauty that could captivate anyone. Her elegance and charm were undeniable.
Bryanna smiled gently, pressing her fingers to her temple as if to ease a headache. “Well? Have you found the cause of the illness yet?” she asked, her tone calm but laced with authority.
The doctors exchanged uneasy glances before one of them muttered, “We’re still working on it.”
Bryanna turned her gaze to Edwin. “Didn’t you say you brought in a doctor from Inassea? Where is he? Hasn’t he arrived yet?”
Her words, though polite, carried an unmistakable weight. Bryanna’s presence alone was enough to command respect. As Mark Beveridge’s second wife, she held significant sway within the family.
Before Edwin could respond, Katelyn’s voice rang out from the doorway: “Madam, Dr. Scott has arrived!”