The Last Patient I Refused to Save

“What did you say?”

Michael Wood, the lead bodyguard dressed in black, froze on the spot, his eyes widening in disbelief.

He looked down at the mangled man lying on the stretcher, then back up at me.

The man on the stretcher was Samuel Hall.

The richest man in Rivergate, and a philanthropist known to everyone in the city.

Half an hour earlier, a gas explosion had torn through an orphanage in the southern district.

Samuel happened to be passing by when the explosion occurred. He rushed into the flames and shielded six children who were unable to escape.

The children emerged completely unharmed.

Instead, a collapsing support beam slammed into his back, leaving him with severe burns across most of his body and multiple shattered bones.

The director of Rivergate Central Hospital had already issued a critical condition notice, declaring that even a miracle doctor couldn't save him.

With reddened eyes, Michael slammed three black briefcases onto the stone floor.

The latches sprang open, revealing rows upon rows of neatly stacked gold bars.

“Dr. Cross, this is a six-million-dollar deposit! If you agree to treat him, half of the Hall family's commercial properties can be transferred to your name!”

His voice trembled as his forehead repeatedly struck the floor.

“Please! My boss isn't going to last much longer!”

Inside the Hall of Souls Clinic, more than a dozen families of patients waiting for next year's appointments were still gathered in the main hall.

The sight of the gold bars on the floor, followed by the horrific condition of the man on the stretcher, drew a collective gasp from the crowd.

I lifted my teacup and didn't even bother looking up.

“Rules are rules. I don't care if he's the richest man in the city or the greatest philanthropist who ever lived. I'm not treating him.

“Take him and get out of my clinic.”

I set the cup down with a sharp clink.

Silence fell over the entire hall.

Michael suddenly raised his head, his bloodshot eyes blazing with fury.

“Ashley Cross! There are still open slots, aren't there?”

Michael roared at me, his eyes nearly splitting with rage.

“My boss ended up like this because he saved those six orphans! He's a hero to this entire city! The money he donates every year could fill this whole street!

“You won't even save a man like him? What kind of doctor does that make you? Aren't you afraid you'll be punished for it?”

The families waiting in line could no longer stay silent and immediately joined in.

“Dr. Cross, that's Mr. Hall! He paid to pave the road in our town last year!

“Please save him. A hero like him doesn't deserve to die!”

I swept a cold glance across the crowd and let out a mocking snort.

“A hero?”

I slammed my hand heavily onto the table.

“If he wants to be a hero, he should be honored with a memorial and a plaque. What's he doing in my clinic?

“This place runs on rules, not sympathy.”

“If anyone dares to say another word, I won't treat a single member of your family in the future!”

The moment those words left my mouth, the outraged families who were speaking up moments earlier instantly fell silent.

No one dared gamble with the lives of their loved ones.

Michael's hand trembled violently as he stared at me with despair in his eyes.

“Good... very good. So that's the kind of person you are...”

Michael suddenly turned around and roared toward the bodyguards outside.

“Men! Seal off the clinic!”

With a loud crash, more than a dozen bodyguards pulled out expandable batons and blocked the entrance to the Hall of Souls Clinic.

Michael pulled a black handgun from the back of his waistband.

The barrel pointed directly at my forehead.

“Ashley Cross, let me make this perfectly clear.

“You either treat him, or I'll put a bullet through your head first, then tear this worthless clinic apart and make everyone here die alongside my boss!”