Chapter 5

Noah clutched the side of his face, staring at Clyde in disbelief.

"Clyde, are you out of your mind? You actually hit me?" His voice wavered between shock and outrage. "Even Dad never laid a hand on me, and you dare to?"

Noah's tone was laced with both grievance and fury.

Clyde's icy glare cut into him like a blade. "If you want Dad to die, just say it outright."

His voice was cold, sharp with anger. "Apologize to the Mystic Healer right now, or I'll kick you out of the family!"

Noah's eyes widened in disbelief when he heard he had to apologize to Edward. He looked at Edward with reluctance.

"You want me to apologize to this guy? Not a chance!"

To him, Edward was just some nobody—a small-time doctor. What right did someone like that have to make him, the second son of the Hardwick family, apologize?

Edward let out a cold huff, not even bothering to argue. He simply turned and walked away.

Clyde panicked. He rushed forward to block Edward's path. "Please, Dr. Channing, I beg you—save my father!"

Edward's voice was flat and unforgiving. "I'll consider it. If he apologizes."

Noah met Edward's gaze with defiance, his own eyes filled with hostility. "You think I'd ever apologize to you? Keep dreaming."

"Noah, shut up!"

Clyde's furious roar rang through the room, making Noah swallow the rest of his words.

His older brother's glare burned with rage. "I'm giving you three seconds. If you don't apologize to Dr. Channing, I swear on my name as head of the Hardwick family, I'll erase you from the family records. And you can forget about inheriting a single cent."

Clyde knew exactly what Noah cared about most, so he went straight for the kill.

And sure enough, the moment Noah heard those words, his expression darkened.

He clenched his jaw. His resentment was clear, but when he looked at Clyde's face—grim, unwavering—he realized his brother wasn't bluffing. If he refused, he really would be kicked out of the family.

If that really happened, he wouldn't see a single cent of the Hardwick family's fortune.

The thought made Noah grit his teeth and swallow his resentment. He had no choice but to lower his head and force out an apology.

"…I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. Please forgive me."

Edward glanced at Noah, easily picking up on the unwillingness in his tone.

But he didn't care. With a cold huff, he turned away and walked back to Dylan's bedside.

Noah's eyes flashed with icy malice as he watched Edward. He had already made up his mind—one day, he would make this bastard pay. His apology wasn't something just anyone could demand and get away with!

At the bedside, Henry stood awkwardly, his face stiff.

Earlier, he had boasted that he was the one who saved Dylan and that Edward had nothing to do with it.

But now? The monitors showed his patient's vitals plummeting, and he had no way to stop it.

And to make things worse, when Henry saw the amused glint in Edward's eyes, he felt his face burn with humiliation—like he had just been slapped in front of everyone.

Edward's voice was calm but cutting. "Bystanders should step aside and not interfere with my work."

It was clear who he meant.

Henry's expression darkened. His face flushed red with anger, but with Clyde watching him like a hawk, he didn't dare argue. Gritting his teeth, he silently took a few steps back.

Edward wasted no time. He pressed his palm firmly against Dylan's brow, and a steady flow of inner energy surged from his hand into the old man's body.

As the energy coursed through Dylan, the monitors that had been blaring just moments ago suddenly went silent. The numbers that had been dropping nonstop now began to rise, stabilizing little by little.

Henry watched Edward's treatment method with eyes full of shock and disbelief, mixed with deep skepticism.

How could pressing a hand on someone's forehead suddenly stabilize their condition?

It defied all scientific logic.

Watching Edward work shattered everything Henry thought he knew about medicine. In his ten-plus years as a doctor, he had never seen anything this ridiculous.

Henry wasn't a martial artist. He had no way of knowing that when Edward placed his hand on the old man's forehead, he was using inner energy to heal him.

But Clyde's eyes gleamed with realization.

From Edward's technique, Clyde could tell—Edward was very likely one of the legendary martial artists.

And right now, Edward was using his exclusive inner energy to treat Dylan.

Clyde had never actually seen a martial artist before, but he had heard the stories.

These were people who could leap across rooftops and cut down enemies with a single flick of a leaf—just like something out of an action movie.

But martial artists were extremely rare. They mostly appeared in major cities, and Havaria—just a lower-tier city—had never been known to have one in its midst.

Now, everything made sense.

Clyde finally understood why Draken Group's chairman, the billionaire Skyler, had shown Edward such deep respect.

If Edward was a martial artist, then it all added up.

Edward watched as Dylan's condition stabilized. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he retrieved the silver needles from the old man's body.

The moment the last needle was removed, Dylan's tightly shut eyes fluttered open.

Clyde's face lit up with pure joy. He rushed forward to help his father sit up.

"Dad, you're awake! Do you feel any discomfort?"

Dylan shook his head lightly. "I feel... incredible. It's as if I've shed ten years."

Clyde was stunned.

He turned to Edward, his eyes filled with shock.

He never expected Edward's medical skills to be so terrifying.

Not only had Edward brought his father back from the brink of death, but he had also left him revitalized. It was nothing short of miraculous.

Dylan's gaze landed on Edward, filled with gratitude. "Dr. Channing, you saved my life. The Hardwick family will never forget this favor. If you ever need anything, just say the word."

Though Dylan had been lying unconscious, he had been aware of everything happening in the room. He knew exactly who had saved him.

Without Edward, he wouldn't even be alive right now.

That was why he felt utmost gratitude toward Edward.

Edward waved a hand dismissively. "No need for thanks. Your son paid me to save you—it was just a transaction. No need to make it a bigger deal than it is."

But Dylan only smiled. "Maybe. But to me, this is a debt I'll never forget."

"Dad, you're really okay?"

At that moment, Noah stepped forward, his face lighting up with excitement.

Seeing Dylan awake put him at ease. After all, this meant he still had a chance to convince the old man to write a will in his favor.

But Dylan's gaze turned ice-cold as he looked at his younger son.

"Oh? You seem very happy that I'm awake. I was under the impression you were waiting for me to drop dead."

Noah froze, caught completely off guard. "Dad, what are you saying? How could I ever think that?"

Dylan let out a cold huff. "Is that so? Just moments ago, you were acting all high and mighty toward the doctor. I thought for sure you were eager to see me gone."

Noah finally understood what Dylan meant. So that was what this was about.

His resentment toward Edward deepened.

Noah's lips twitched as if he wanted to explain further, but Dylan cut him off with a commanding wave of his hand. Left with no choice, Noah could only seethe silently in frustration.

Seeing that the matter had come to a close, Edward turned to Clyde. "Now that your father is fine, I'll have to trouble you to arrange for someone to take me back. I have urgent matters to attend to."

Clyde had originally hoped to invite Edward to stay for dinner, but Edward refused without hesitation.

Seeing how firm he was, Clyde had no choice but to respect his decision and instructed Steven to drive Edward home.

This time, Steven personally chauffeured Edward in a bright yellow Maybach, heading straight for Skywater Gardens, Villa 20.

As soon as Edward stepped out of the car, Steven followed, holding a key in both hands and presenting it respectfully.

"Mr. Channing, please accept this key."

Edward gave him a puzzled look. "What's this?"

Steven smiled. "Our boss is gifting you this car for your personal use. He hopes you'll accept it."

Edward glanced at the Maybach beside him and calmly said, "If I'm not mistaken, this is Maybach's newly released Phantom Storm anniversary edition—the only one of its kind in the world. It costs, what, a hundred million? Am I wrong?"

Steven was stunned.

He hadn't expected Edward to recognize the car at a single glance.

Originally, Dylan had planned to give this car to Noah as a birthday gift. But now, it belonged to Edward.

Steven quickly regained his composure and nodded with a smile. "Mr. Channing, you're absolutely right. I hope you'll accept it as a token of our boss's appreciation."

Edward knew there was no refusing. Besides, he needed a car to move his things anyway.

"Alright, I'll take it. Thank Mr. Hardwick for me."

Steven let out a quiet breath of relief—mission accomplished.

"Of course, Mr. Channing. I'll make sure to pass on your words. I won't take up any more of your time—I'll be heading back now."

Edward pocketed the keys and walked into the villa.

Inside, he quickly packed his belongings into a suitcase. He had no hesitation or attachment.

Without looking back, he dragged his suitcase out the door.

But the moment he stepped outside, he spotted two familiar figures approaching.

It was Winona's mother and younger brother, Hailey Cooper and William Spencer.

"Edward! Put that suitcase down right now!"