Fyren raised her hands. "If you kill me, you're doomed too."
"I'm not afraid of death!"
Fyren studied her. "But is it necessary?"
"Lord Young needs you dead!"
"I'm his brother. Would he really kill me?"
"For Crystalpeak City! For the people of Northlandia! For all the people of the Mainland!"
Fyren smirked. "Did he tell you that? So besides killing his brother and deceiving women, he has no other way to do good deeds?"
"I… I don't understand! I don't need to! Lord Young knows everything. I just have to obey."
Fyren tilted her head. "Do you feel confused?"
"You're talking nonsense!"
"You never stopped to think about what's right, did you?"
"Shut up!"
"Lord Young has given you tasks you didn't want to do. You doubted them, but you didn't dare think too hard, right?"
"Stop lying!"
Fyren sighed. "Let's leave that for later. Right now, your ribs are broken and displaced. If we don't set them, you'll die."
"I told you—I'm not afraid of death."
"And if you die, who will protect Lord Young?"
Sherry froze.
"His path ahead is long. His enemies will only grow stronger. He needs you alive—to keep fighting for him. Lower the knife. Let me set your bones."
"My body belongs to Lord Young. No one else may touch it!"
"I've touched it before."
"You—!"
Sherry tried to lunge, but agony ripped through her, sapping her strength instantly. Fyren snatched the dagger and tossed it aside, swiftly sealing her meridians.
"Whew…"
Fyren exhaled. "Still too young. After Lord Young does that to you… heh, your mind will clear. Then you'll be a sharp young woman."
"Now, bear with it. I'm setting your bones."
"No… Please, don't. I can't betray Lord Young."
Fyren met her gaze. "Don't cling to old-fashioned ideals. If I were Lord Young, I wouldn't want you to die for virtue's sake. I'd rather you endure a man's touch, a man's gaze—but live. Stay healthy. Keep moving forward."
"But… you…"
"Enough. There's much you don't understand yet. Trust those who do. To a doctor, there are only patients—no men or women. Those who treat sensitive conditions see bodies as flesh and blood. Nothing more."
"Are you a doctor?"
Fyren grinned, teeth flashing. "No."
"Then why are you bleeding from your nose?"
"Huh?" Fyren realized that even now, faced with a beautiful woman's bare chest, she couldn't help but feel excited.
Wiping the blood away, she kept working.
Not a doctor, no.
But damn, I knew her condition was bad just from giving her medicine that day. And now, seeing her like this… even worse than touching her.
Ugh, this is too much… Hard to focus! All this damn talking…
Sherry burned with humiliation, wishing she could faint—but her body refused to surrender.
Fyren spent a long time wiping his continuous nosebleed while chatting:
"In a doctor's eyes, a patient is just a patient - nothing more!"
"For example, you. Though you've got ample assets, perfect curves, great texture, and zero resistance right now - guess what? I'm completely unaffected!" Fyren grabbed a roll of toilet paper, wiped his nosebleed, then stuffed a wad back into his nostril.
"Saving lives is the essence of medical ethics. My family runs a pharmaceutical company, so I understand patients' suffering better than most."
"Let's discuss your chest! What do you think?"
He reached out and grabbed it: "So what if I touch it? Doesn't affect me at all!"
"Calm as the sea!"
"I should call for more toilet paper delivery. This nosebleed won't stop."
Fyren continued: "Where were we? Ah, your chest! Well... I'm no expert in this area, but I'm very clear about medical ethics!"
"Our duty is saving lives and healing the wounded - not... helping the sick in other ways."
"Would I stare more to satisfy dirty thoughts? Never!"
"Would I touch more while secretly fantasizing? Absolutely not!"
"Would I take every advantage, continuing assaults after treatment? Not a chance!"
"Calm as the sea!"
Sherry had been watching his performance coldly. Finally she said: "The bones are set."
"Really?"
"Yes. Several minutes ago."
"See how dedicated I am! Most doctors would stop after setting bones, but I follow through completely!"
"Are you finished yet?"
"When I was six years old..."
Seeing Sherry's silent tears rolling down, Fyren finally withdrew his hand, embarrassed:
"I... was worried about causing discomfort."
"I thought... we should talk more."
Fyren sighed.
[Now she definitely hates me.]
[I'm dead either way.]
[She's Otto's woman - she'd have to kill me regardless.]
[First ensure my safety, then release her. But how?]
As Fyren pondered, Sherry suddenly leapt up - having somehow retrieved her longsword - and pressed it against Fyren's throat.
Fyren's mind went blank.
[I sealed her meridians!]
[Was my technique insufficient?]
[I'm done for! Now she'll kill me for both the groping and the medicine!]
One slight pressure from Sherry would end him.
A long silence stretched between them, eyes locked in wordless confrontation.
The door burst open as Chloe entered:
"Fyren! The health supplements for that woman have arrived! Fyren? Which room are you in?"
Sherry growled through clenched teeth: "I'll kill you eventually!"
With that, she leapt straight out the window.
Fyren exhaled in relief: "Heh! Saved my own skin."
Sherry staggered away, her wounded body burning with anguish and fury.
She couldn't comprehend why she'd spared Fyren when she'd had him at sword point.
Why?
Because he claimed to understand her? Called her a kind, simple girl?
Because he'd saved her and convinced his allies to help set her bones? Or because... after his brazen groping, she'd inexplicably lost the will to kill him?
Her thoughts tangled like snarled yarn.
She knew - had her consciousness remained whole - she wouldn't feel this confusion, this internal war.
Sealing my awareness, only for Young Master to "gift" it back later... is that truly kindness?
Fyren might be right. This isn't generosity - it's returning what was always mine!
No!
How could I question Young Master?
Sherry, everything you are comes from him!
How could Fyren's smooth words sway you so easily?
Am I truly so faithless? So quick to betray my lord?!
Fyren! Next meeting, your blood will paint my blade!
Her mind churned violently.
She fought to purge all thoughts of Fyren - his words, his inner monologue...
Yet the harder she resisted, the more turmoil grew.
The more she felt tainted - her body defiled, her mind corrupted, her doubts about Young Master festering uncontrollably.
Self-loathing coiled thick in her throat.
She needed an outlet for her rage!
Returning to headquarters, she found eerie silence.
Rushing inside revealed Dissercace unconscious, Young Master vanished, and a swollen-headed figure sprawled nearby - one who didn't recognize her!
Sherry hauled Dissercace upright: "Where's Young Master? SPEAK!"
Her shaking only deepened Dissercace's stupor.
But the pig-headed man stirred at her voice, gradually regaining awareness.
Sherry limped closer, jaw clenched: "Where. Is. My. Lord?"
Otto's eyes remained sealed shut.
No wonder!
Copper King had just used his skull as a tennis racket for an entire championship match.
Any normal man would've died after six thousand eight hundred palm strikes - but this was Otto!
The Child of Fate's resilience was truly terrifying!
Alive, yes - but his head had definitely seen better days.
First, the swelling. It was already bad enough before, but after "fermenting" in death, it had gained another two pounds. Now his head was actually thicker than his waist.
Especially the eyes - completely unable to open. The eyelids had swollen into two giant bread rolls, sealing them shut except for the tiniest slit. Honestly, if not for the nose, you wouldn't even recognize it as a head.
Then the ears. Full of holes, they kept buzzing nonstop.
Finally, the mouth.
The swollen mouth left no room for his tongue to move. He couldn't even find his teeth to lick them.
Without the nose, he would have suffocated already.
Sherry thought to herself: This man looks bizarre. He must have practiced some strange demonic technique that warped his appearance.
Since he was here, he must know where her young lord was.
Sherry pressed her longsword against Otto's throat: "Speak! Where is my young lord?"
Otto couldn't see, but he heard Sherry's voice. His swollen mouth and immobilized tongue made coherent speech impossible.
"Won't talk?"
Sherry's rage boiled over.
Furious at Fyren. Furious at herself.
Now she hissed: "Keep silent and I'll chop you to pieces!"
Otto let out an indistinct whimper.
Sherry unleashed all her pent-up fury from Fyren onto the pig-headed man. She drove her sword into him and slowly twisted the hilt.
"This spot hurts the most when stabbed! Let's see how long you last!"
Otto nearly lost his mind.
Was I holding back? I can't move or even make a sound!
What the hell are you doing!?
Sherry sneered: "Still nothing? I never took you for such a tough guy."
Otto thought: I'm definitely not tough! Can't you just leave me alone? Can't this wait until I've recovered?
Sherry hadn't expected this fool to have any backbone.
But his stubbornness only infuriated her more.
"If I can't make that bastard Fyren pay, I'll take it out on you! Today... I've got you. Keep silent and the torture continues until you talk!"
Otto was terrified.
He felt... there was no point in living anymore.
Let it end. I'm tired.