The Beggar in the Lobby Was the Supreme King

Chapter 006

After departing from the Mosaic Tower, Ethan Smith and Iris Smith navigated the morning congestion of Ambershire, arriving at the sprawling complex of the local People’s Hospital in just under thirty minutes. The sterile scent of antiseptic and the frantic energy of the emergency wing greeted them as they hurried toward the high-security trauma ward.

Standing vigil outside the heavy double doors of the intensive care unit was a woman in a crisp tactical uniform, her eyes weary from a long night of violence. Mary Hopkins stepped forward as they approached, offering a formal yet somber nod. "Miss Iris Smith, I am Mary Hopkins, lead tactical assistant to Governor Bree Smith. Thank you for coming so quickly."

"How is she, Mary?" Iris asked, her voice trembling, her hands twisting the fabric of her designer coat. "Can we see her?"

"You may," Mary replied, stepping aside to push open the heavy door. "But please, be prepared. It was a brutal engagement."

The three of them entered the room. Lying amidst a web of glowing monitors and transparent tubes was Bree Smith. Even in a deep, medically induced coma, she retained an aura of fierce command, her features echoing the legendary spirit of a warrior. She was the Deputy Governor, the "Mulan of the East," yet here she lay, pale and broken.

Beneath the thin hospital gown, the damage was horrifyingly visible. Bandages covered three distinct trauma zones: her shoulder, her right arm, and most terrifyingly, a point just three inches above her heart where a high-velocity round had struck.

"The surgeons are at a standstill," Mary Hopkins whispered, her voice tight with suppressed emotion. "The bullet is lodged so close to the cardiac wall that any attempt at extraction could cause a fatal rupture. They are waiting for familial consent to proceed with such a high-risk procedure."

Looking at her sister's broken form, Iris felt the world tilt. Tears flooded her eyes, and her composure, usually like tempered glass, shattered. "I don't understand, Mary. The reports said the raid on Apex Village was a success. You captured Jeffrey Herman and dismantled ten of the Herman family’s fronts. How did it come to this?"

Ethan stood at the foot of the bed, his shadow long and dark against the white tile. He remained silent, but his mind was a whirlwind of tactical analysis. He needed the details.

"The initial strike was flawless," Mary explained, looking at the floor. "Thanks to the intelligence provided by an anonymous source, we crippled their logistics. However, Governor Schlesinger felt the quick collapse of Apex Village was too easy. He ordered a deeper investigation. During the sweep, the Governor received an urgent encrypted tip: it claimed her long-lost brother, Ethan Smith, was being held at Moonlit Mountain."

Ethan’s eyes narrowed until they were mere slits of frozen fire. A trap.

"It was a coordinated ambush," Mary continued. "As soon as we moved into the valley, we were surrounded by elite operatives from the Hall of Darknight. They were led by an assassin known as Wolf. Five of our brothers-in-arms fell in the first minute. The Governor took the front line to cover our retreat. She fought like a demon, but they were prepared for her."

The Hall of Darknight. Ethan knew them well—the premier league of shadows in Solinar. The fact that the Herman family had the capital and the connections to hire Wolf meant they were more than just local traffickers. They were a cancer with deep roots.

"Iris," Ethan said, his voice dropping into a low, resonant tone that commanded immediate attention. "I have studied the arts of healing during my years away. I need to check her pulse. I need to see the extent of the damage myself."

While Ethan wasn't a traditional doctor, fifteen years at the head of the Hall of Supreme had made him a master of the human anatomy—both how to break it and how to mend it. He was an expert in trauma, the kind that modern medicine often failed to grasp.

"She’s in this state because she was looking for you," Iris sobbed, clutching Ethan's arm. "Go ahead. But the surgery... we must wait for Alice. She’s almost here."

Ethan reached out and took Bree’s limp wrist. As his fingers pressed against the delicate skin, his brow furrowed. It wasn't just the physical trauma. There was a faint, sickly discoloration near the entry wound.

The Lethe Virus.

His heart hammered against his ribs. The Hall of Darknight had used a poisoned round. In the underworld of Solinar, The Lethe Virus was a death sentence; it slowly paralyzed the nervous system until the heart simply forgot how to beat.

Acting instantly, Ethan channeled a stream of his internal essence—a refined let out the ultimate trick—into her meridians. He worked with surgical focus, using his energy to create a pressurized barrier around her vital organs, effectively sealing her "seven gates and eight paths" to prevent the toxin from reaching her brain.

A murderous intent, cold and absolute, radiated from him, causing the temperature in the room to seem to drop.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"It's Alice Smiths! Open the door!" a melodious, urgent voice rang out from the hallway.

The door swung open to reveal a woman who looked like an ethereal celestial descended to earth. Alice Smiths, the seventh sister and a world-renowned surgeon known as the "Divine Healer," rushed to the bedside. "Iris! How is she?"

Before Iris could speak, Ethan intercepted her. "Miss Smiths, I am Ethan. I’ve just examined her. The bullet isn't the primary threat—she has been infected with The Lethe Virus."

Alice froze, her eyes scanning Ethan with a mix of shock and skepticism. She didn't have time to verify his identity, but the mention of that specific toxin sent a chill down her spine. She quickly opened her medical kit and took Bree's pulse. Her face turned pale.

"The toxin is stagnant... it hasn't reached the heart yet," Alice muttered, her fingers dancing over Bree’s skin. "If I had arrived sixty seconds later, she would have been beyond help. Who stabilized her?"

She looked at Ethan, her gaze lingering on his face. "Are you... are you really Ethan? You look so much like the boy from the photos, but after fifteen years, everyone is a stranger."

"Alice," Iris said, wiping her eyes. "It's him. He has the Dragon Birthmark. But please, save our sister first."

Alice’s eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them back with professional steel. "He’s right. We need to operate immediately to remove the bullet and then I’ll have to administer a series of counter-toxin injections. I need the room cleared. Now!"

As a man, and a non-medical professional in the eyes of the hospital, Ethan knew he couldn't stay for the procedure. "I understand. Catherine, let's go."

As they stepped into the quiet hallway, Ethan’s demeanor shifted. The concerned brother vanished, replaced by the Supreme King.

"Catherine," he whispered, his voice vibrating with a terrifying intensity. "Contact Anthony Melim. I want him to mobilize three separate cells to provide covert protection for Iris, Bree, and Alice. Not a single hair on their heads is to be touched."

"And you, Supreme King?" Catherine asked, her hand already on her communication device.

"You and I are going to have a conversation with the Herman family," Ethan said. "They want to play with fire? I’ll give them an inferno."

They vanished from the hospital, racing through the streets of Ambershire toward the Herman estate.

Meanwhile, at the opulent Herman mansion, the atmosphere was one of grotesque celebration. The dining hall was filled with the clinking of crystal and the smell of expensive cigars.

"Young Master, your brilliance is truly unmatched," an operative with predatory, eagle-like eyes said, raising a glass of vintage cognac toward Julian Herman. "Luring Bree Smith into that kill zone with the 'brother' bait was a masterstroke. Even if she survived the initial ambush, that gift from the Hall of Darknight will ensure she never wakes up."

"She was becoming a nuisance," another man grumbled, leaning back in his velvet chair. "Arresting the third master and shutting down our West District operations... she forgot who really runs this city. She deserved to bleed."

At the head of the table sat Jason Herman, the patriarch of the clan. He looked at his son, Julian, with a rare expression of pride. "Julian, tell me—you’re certain the toxin was used? There’s no chance of recovery?"

"Father," Julian said, adjusting his silk tie with a smirk. "The Hall of Darknight doesn't miss. Even if her sister, that 'Divine Healer' Alice Smiths, tries to intervene, she’ll be fighting a losing battle. But we shouldn't get complacent. The Smith sisters are a formidable bunch."

He took a long sip of wine before continuing. "We need to double down on the 'brother' narrative. We’ll leak word that we actually have the real Ethan Smith in our basement. As long as they believe we hold their precious little brother, they won't dare to move against us legally or otherwise. We’ll have them on a leash."

The room erupted in laughter and toasts to their perceived invincibility.

CRASH!

The heavy mahogany doors of the banquet hall didn't just open; they were blown off their hinges, reduced to splinters by a physical force so immense it felt like a bomb had detonated.

A servant, drenched in sweat and trembling so violently he could barely stand, stumbled into the room. "Master! Young Master! Someone... someone is here! A man called Ethan Smith! He’s torn through the outer perimeter! Our Guards of the Earth... they’re all down! He’s coming for you!"

The laughter in the room died instantly, replaced by a sudden, chilling silence.