Hades Has Returned

Chapter 003

"Let me handle this," Winter Lacy said, her voice cool, detached, and commanding.

"Everyone, step back! My Lady can save her!"

Tina Cheney, the sharp-tongued secretary, shoved Jack Brooks aside with surprising force. She glared at him with a mixture of disgust and superiority, her eyes practically screaming at him to stop defiling the scene with his presence.

The crowd watched in astonishment as the dynamic shifted. The ragged young man was pushed to the periphery, and the elegant, icy beauty took center stage.

Winter Lacy reached into her pocket and produced a small, elegant leather case. She unfurled it to reveal a row of gleaming Silver Needles, shimmering under the harsh fluorescent lights of the airport terminal. With practiced precision, she began to insert the needles into the elderly woman’s body.

She targeted specific locations: the Guanyuan Point on the lower abdomen, the Juque Point near the solar plexus, and the Tiantu Point at the base of the throat, along with ten others to complete a thirteen-needle sequence. Her movements were fluid, like a pianist striking keys, displaying the grace of years of training.

Jack Brooks stood to the side, brushing the dust off his shoulder where the secretary had pushed him. He frowned slightly, his dark eyes analyzing her technique.

He had already infused his True Energy into the woman's meridians. The energy was currently circulating, repairing the damage to the heart muscle. In exactly two minutes, the blockage would clear, and the woman would wake up regardless of what anyone else did.

However, he observed Winter Lacy's technique objectively. Her placement of the Silver Needles was technically correct for a standard resuscitation attempt. It wouldn't harm the old woman, nor would it interfere with the True Energy he had already planted. Seeing that she wasn't endangering the patient, Jack decided to remain silent. There was no point in arguing with these people, especially when the result would be the same.

Time ticked by slowly. The atmosphere was tense, the silence broken only by the weeping of the young girl.

Exactly two minutes later, a miracle occurred. The elderly woman’s chest heaved, she let out a long, ragged breath, and her eyes fluttered open. Color rushed back into her pale cheeks.

"She's awake! It's a miracle!"

"Oh my god, look! She’s breathing!"

A wave of exclamation erupted from the surrounding crowd. Thunderous applause broke out, and everyone cast gazes of pure admiration toward Winter Lacy.

Winter Lacy herself froze for a split second, her hand hovering over the last needle.

She was internally confused. According to her diagnosis, she had only completed half the acupuncture sequence, and honestly, she hadn't been fully confident it would work on such a severe case of cardiac arrest. How had the patient woken up so quickly?

Did my medical skills improve without me realizing it? she wondered, a flicker of excitement lighting up her mind. Have I finally broken through a bottleneck? Yes, that must be it. My potential is even greater than I thought.

After the brief moment of shock, a look of pride settled into her eyes. It must be her own skill. There was no other explanation.

Tina Cheney beamed, basking in the reflected glory. She raised her chin arrogantly, puffing out her chest as she addressed the awestruck crowd.

"Allow me to introduce her," Tina announced, her voice ringing with pride. "My Lady is Winter Lacy."

She paused for effect, letting the name hang in the air.

"She is the Inner Disciple of the legendary The Ghost Medic! Curing a simple illness like this is nothing to her. It is as easy as lifting a finger!"

The short introduction hit the crowd like a boulder dropped into a pond, creating ripples of shock.

"The apprentice of The Ghost Medic?! No wonder she is so incredible! This old lady really has the devil's own luck to run into someone from The Ghost Medic's lineage here!"

"I've heard the rumors," a businessman whispered excitedly to his colleague, his eyes wide. "The Ghost Medic can revive the dead and grow flesh on white bones. They say he has a female disciple who has inherited his true teachings, known as The Grand Healer of the South. Her last name is also Lacy! Could it be..."

"It is her! I'm certain of it!" another bystander shouted, pulling out his phone to check a reference. "I saw her face on the cover of the top Asian medical journal, Nature Medicine! This is definitely Miss Winter Lacy!"

"To see the divine doctor Winter Lacy in person... this is the blessing of three lifetimes!"

The crowd surged forward, surrounding Winter Lacy like she was an A-list celebrity. Business cards were thrust toward her, everyone desperate to make a connection with such a powerful figure.

Jack Brooks stood on the periphery, a look of bewildered amusement on his face.

Hugh Gore?

He remembered the old man, Hugh Gore, crying tears of snot and desperation outside his cell in Alchemy Demon Island Prison, begging Jack to accept him as a student. Jack had reluctantly given the old man a few pointers just to get him to shut up.

To think that Winter Lacy was that old brat's apprentice. The world was indeed a small circle.

Winter Lacy waved her hand dismissively at the fawning crowd, signaling for silence. She turned her cold, indifferent gaze toward Jack, who was standing there looking unimpressed.

"You saw what happened," she said, her voice dripping with condensation. "We are not from the same world. I save lives; you watch helplessly. I hope you stop this now. Do not harass me any further."

"When my Lady treats the wealthy, her consultation fee starts at fifty thousand dollars," Tina Cheney chimed in, sneering. "And you? You probably can't even earn five thousand dollars a month. How could you possibly be worthy of my Lady?"

Tina sniffed, her nose turned up so high it practically touched the ceiling tiles. "Furthermore, my Lady is the daughter of The Lacy Family. She is a favored child of heaven, born with a golden spoon in her mouth. Is she someone a person like you can climb up to?"

"Give up your fantasies," Tina continued ruthlessly. "As the Inner Disciple of The Ghost Medic, if my Lady wrote a book, it would sell a million copies instantly. You can only look up at her from the mud!"

The crowd finally understood the dynamic. This average-looking, poorly dressed man was a stalker pursuing the divine doctor! The admiration for Winter Lacy instantly turned into hostility toward Jack.

"He can't even make five grand a month, yet he wants to chase Dr. Lacy? Hmph! He really doesn't know his own weight!"

"The Lacy Family is worth billions, and Miss Lacy has god-like skills. If you want to be a gigolo and eat soft rice, look in the mirror first! You aren't even comparable to a toad!"

"The line of wealthy young masters wanting to date Dr. Lacy could stretch from here to the parking lot, and she ignores them all. What makes a poor ghost like you think you have a chance?"

Jack Brooks couldn't help but laugh. He looked at Winter Lacy and spoke calmly, his voice cutting through the noise.

"I have actually read that medical paper you published," Jack said, his tone casual. "The content was lackluster. Boring, really. There was nothing new or innovative in it."

He shook his head, looking disappointed. "Hugh Gore, that old fellow... his medical skills are mediocre at best, but his ability to teach a student how to be a decent human being is even worse."

"Next time I see him, I'll have to give him a piece of my mind."

As soon as the words left his mouth, the crowd exploded with rage. It was as if he had insulted a deity in a temple.

"What did this kid just say? 'Old fellow'?"

"He called the Medical Saint an 'old fellow'? He truly has a death wish!"

"He speaks as if he knows Elder Gore personally! A loser like you doesn't even have the qualification to wash the Medical Saint's feet! If you're sick in the head, go get treated, don't brag here!"

"He can't even figure out his own status, yet he dares to critique Miss Lacy's thesis? He has refreshed the lower limit of shamelessness!"

Winter Lacy's face turned as cold as a glacier. Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Calling my master by his name directly... you truly deserve to die."

She took a deep breath, smoothing her blazer, trying to maintain her dignity in front of the r****e. "However, considering that I was the one who annulled the engagement first, I will not hold this against you today."

"Go to Metro City immediately. Apologize to June Wainright. If your attitude is sincere enough, she might throw a few coins at you so you can scrape by for the rest of your miserable life."

With that final insult, Winter Lacy turned around, leaving Jack with nothing but a haughty view of her back. Surrounded by bodyguards and adoring fans, she marched out of the airport like a queen leaving her court.

Jack Brooks watched her retreating figure, a cold smile playing on his lips.

"I will go to The Brooks Family," he whispered to the empty air. "But not now. December 21st. June Wainright's birthday."

"I will personally deliver a 'grand gift' to her."

"Oh, look at you!" a passing traveler sneered, rolling his eyes at Jack. "Acting tough now that she's gone? Who are you putting on a show for? The more incompetent the man, the harder his mouth!"

The traveler turned to leave, but stopped dead in his tracks.

A fat man, his face flushed red from running, was sprinting toward them across the polished floor. He was sweating profusely, panting heavily, his expensive suit straining against his bulk.

"Mr. Brooks..."

The fat man skidded to a halt in front of Jack. He bowed deeply—almost a ninety-degree angle—and reached out with trembling hands to take the worn canvas bag from Jack's shoulder. He slung it over his own back, looking for all the world like a humble servant.

"I am so sorry I am late, sir!"

This scene stunned the remaining onlookers in the airport lobby. Jaws dropped.

"Mother of God! Isn't that Ted Wolfe? The richest man in Northriver?"

"Holy sh*t! Why is Ted Wolfe, the head of Wolfe Group, acting like a bellboy for that young man?"

"What is happening? Oh my god... that young man..."

The sudden reversal of status nearly caused the bystanders to bite their tongues off. The color drained from their faces. They realized they had just mocked someone who could command the richest man in the city.

They quickly scrambled to the side, hiding their faces behind magazines or turning away, terrified that Jack would settle scores with them.

Jack looked at the sweating man calmly. "You are Victor Zane's brother, Ted Wolfe, correct?"

Ted Wolfe nodded furiously, terror evident in his eyes. "Yes, yes! I... I assumed you would be arriving on a private jet, so I was waiting at the VIP channel. I never imagined a figure like you would fly commercial economy..."

Yesterday, Ted Wolfe had received a call from the King of Northriver, Victor Zane. The instructions were clear: The man coming to Northriver was a god. A being so terrifying that even the King himself bowed to him.

Ted had prepared extensively. He had even dug up Jack's high school photos and donated fifty million dollars to the school just to curry favor. But he had messed up the pickup. He had let Hades wait for thirty minutes.

He was shaking so hard his teeth were chattering.

"It's fine," Jack said, waving his hand dismissively. He stepped into the waiting Rolls Royce Phantom parked at the curb.

As the luxury car glided away, the group of people who had ridiculed Jack moments ago collapsed onto the benches, wailing in despair.

"It's over. It's all over. I spent months pulling strings to get a meeting with Ted Wolfe's butler... if that young nobleman says one word, my business is finished!"

"My mouth! My damn cheap mouth! I'm going to die! I'll never talk trash again..."

The Sutton Family Residence.

The house was a modest but well-maintained villa in the suburbs, surrounded by a small garden. Jack Brooks stood on the porch, feeling a strange sense of nostalgia mixed with apprehension. He reached into his bag and pulled out a long, rolled-up scroll.

In recent years, paintings signed by the alias "Mason Wainright" had become famous overseas. Each piece auctioned for over ten million dollars, sought after by collectors from the Imperial Capital to the Snowland. Jack knew that George Sutton was an avid lover of art and antiques.

Before leaving the prison, Jack had painted a piece titled * Misty Rain over Southriver * specifically as a greeting gift for his future father-in-law. It was a masterpiece of ink and spirit, capturing the soul of the region.

He knocked lightly on the door. Knock, knock.

A moment later, the door creaked open.

A young girl appeared in the doorway. She looked like she had just woken up. She was wearing a retro-style school uniform, the pleated skirt and tailored blazer accentuating her figure. The delicate lace of the collar highlighted her slender neck and long, porcelain legs. She was a natural beauty, her curves soft and feminine, despite her young age.

She wore no jewelry or makeup. Her black hair was loosely pinned up, with a few stray strands falling naturally past her ears. Her face, reminiscent of a flawless china doll, held a trace of drowsiness.

The girl blinked, clearly surprised to see a stranger. Then, as she took in his appearance, her beautiful face darkened.

"Ruby, you're here too!" Jack smiled warmly.

Ruby Jordan. She was the daughter of Tia Sutton's aunt. Jack had met her a few times in the past before everything went wrong.

She was just twenty years old now. She had apparently graduated from university and come to Northriver to start her career, temporarily staying with the The Sutton Family.

Ruby Jordan wrinkled her nose, looking him up and down with undisguised distaste.

She saw the dirty canvas bag. She saw the cheap clothes that looked like they came from a street stall. She saw a face that she considered aggressively mediocre.

This guy, she thought, he clearly couldn't make it on his own out there. That's why he ran back to the Suttons to cling to our relatives.

What kind of future could a man like this possibly have?

Her uncle, George Sutton, had helped Jack and his mother for so many years. And now that Jack was out of prison, instead of standing on his own two feet, he was here to be a live-in son-in-law? To sponge off them?

To be this shameless... he might as well go beg on the streets!

"Change your shoes," she snapped coldly.

Without waiting for a reply, Ruby Jordan yawned loudly, turned her back on him, and walked back toward her bedroom, not bothering to offer him a drink or a seat.

Just then, a gasp of amazement echoed from the study down the hall, followed by the sycophantic voice of a young woman.

"Incredible! Absolutely incredible! This * Cold Pines of the Abyss * is truly a masterpiece for the ages!"

"Saga Auction House just received a few authentic works by Master Mason Wainright yesterday. I heard that you are a die-hard fan of his, Mr. Sutton, so I went early to secure this piece. Seeing that you like it, Manager Lewis, puts my heart at ease."

"Master Mason Wainright?"

Jack Brooks raised an eyebrow. He placed his canvas bag and his own scroll—* Misty Rain over Southriver *—on the entryway table and walked quickly toward the study.

Inside the antique-styled room, the air smelled of old paper and sandalwood. Several people were gathered around a large painting spread out on the desk, clicking their tongues in admiration.

Jack walked closer, peering over their shoulders. When he saw the painting, he froze.

Wait a minute, he thought, staring at the ink strokes. Isn't that one of the failed drafts I threw in the trash back in prison?