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Chapter 8 He Comes

Author: J.J. Twelve
"But it’s been 20 minutes! No way that kind of guy exists! No one can resurrect the dead!"

…

The people in the ER were displeased. Even Caleb Stone could not save the Iron Dragon, and he was hailed as the Best Doctor in Silverton. The people grumbled, asking why they took the Iron Dragon here instead of Providence Hospital. That was the best one around.

Sylvie was facing a lot of pressure. Not even the healers from Imperia Golden Healing Chamber could do anything about it, and they were sent by the Dragon Protectors.

The military was already prepared to give the Iron Dragon a grand funeral, yet Sylvie claimed she knew someone who could raise him from the dead. Of course they were shocked.

A bodyguard came rushing in. "Mr. Norwood is here, Ms. Stanton!"

Everyone turned around, their eyes resting on Evan.

William and the others were bemused.

Even Sylvie was stunned for a moment. 'Is that really him?' she thought.

He was in a suit last time they met, and he sported the most popular haircut of the year. Now, he was in casual wear, and he had a buzzcut. Evan looked more like a man now. Even his gaze was sharper.

Sylvie was still surprised. "I thought you were cutting your family off?"

A smile curled Evan's face. "Thanks to you, I did it. Now, I only live for myself."

"I see." She shared his smile. For some reason, she was really happy to see Evan's change.

Suddenly, an icy voice asked, "You're the guy Ms. Stanton claimed could save the Iron Dragon?"

The woman's voice brought down the room's temperature. Everyone shivered as if they'd landed in winter. A group of people stood up, and their eyes were piercing Evan.

Evan looked at them as well. He was surprised. Unlike the special forces, they were in all black windbreakers. And they shared the same look in their eyes. Together, they were like a looming mountain.

One of them was a woman, the one who spoke. She was cold and clean, yet her face was devoid of any emotion. The gleaming leather suit only served to make her colder, as if she was someone who should only exist in the world of comic books.

She was Aria Drakon, the mentee of Stanton the Iron Dragon and the leader of Dragon’ Breath, one of his seven special forces.

Before Evan could even answer, a mocking voice spoke up. "No one can do that, Ms. Drakon. Dr. Westfield has confirmed that the bullet's shrapnel hit his lungs. No one can save him."

William sneered. "No one actually believes in resurrections. Medicine is more advanced than it ever was, and it hasn’t even touched resurrection. If we miss the time for the funeral just for this lad, there’s going to be a lot to answer to."

Everyone shared the same complaints, and they agreed with William.

"I think Ms. Stanton was scammed."

"Obviously. She's in a hurry to save the Iron Dragon, so she grabbed at any straw she could. And then she got scammed."

"And the guy actually showed up! The gall! He probably has no idea who he just lied to!"

…

Some of the special forces were already pulling out their guns. The Iron Dragon was the object of their faith and a legend among the military. His death was the nation's loss. He should have a grand funeral, yet they wasted twenty minutes just for this charlatan.

Even Aria's men looked angry. Their eyes turned icy.

Sylvie panicked. She knew how absurd she sounded, since resurrection was a miracle medicine never managed to perform. But now all her hopes were on Evan. He healed her, and she wanted to believe he could do the same for her grandfather.

"Wait! I would never joke about Grandpa's condition! He does know what he's doing! He healed me!"

The announcement came as a bombshell.

Aria's men were stunned, and William was shocked. Everyone in this room knew Sylvie was hit by frost poison and would die within the year.
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