A cool rush spread through his veins, causing his trembling body to turn calm.
"He'll sleep soon," the doctor said, watching him collapse against the bedsheets. Then, her voice turned into a whisper, "If it works."
She moved on to the next patient without uttering another word. Feng slumped back, chest heaving, breath breaking. "Uncle, can he continue to take part after this?"
"I'm not sure. What worked on others didn't work on him. Even if he can, the chance is slim." Mr. Lee sighed and lowered himself into the chair, his face drawn with exhaustion.
He rubbed his face, hiding the storm in his eyes as the doctor's footsteps echoed like a distant chime.
"I'll go and get Lily." Feng hesitated, then left the room. But his gaze lingered on Leon until he fully shut the door.
Mr. Lee leaned close, pressing his forehead to Leon's arm. "Your family is depending on you. Don't waste this chance," he muttered, voice cold and sharp as winter frost.
He exhaled, sat back in the chair, and watched the faint rise and fall of Leon's chest.
The white curtains swayed up, splashing cold wind onto the bodies of all those residing in the room.
Mr. Lee's gaze tilted, turning to the boy bound with bandages. Leaves spun outside, the trees bowing in the unsteady current.
Newspapers and discarded plastic bags whirled and suspended as if time itself had faltered.
The sound of rolling tyres broke the stillness, redirecting the torn colored sheets as a black car approached WingJI Central Hospital.
The most renowned hospital for advanced medical care, and the only one near the academy. Its mortuary was always full, but they never stopped receiving patients.
The tyres screeched as the car rolled to a stop outside the hospital, sending dust spiraling up and down.
Cats scattered the moment the screeching sound faded, as if some unholy beast was trapped in the confines of the car.
The door at the driver's side opened, followed by a man dressed in one of the finest uniforms, an outfit once worn by the legendary Warlord who had battled a god-level beast.
"Lieutenant… we're here." He said in a heavy voice that rumbled through the microphone tied to his collar.
He squeezed his face and turned a sharp gaze to the left and right. Then, walked to the door at the backseat of the car, and opened it.
He exhaled and smiled, when a dark wind splashed on his face the moment the door opened wide, almost as if welcoming a hellish beast into the world of mortals.
Hayes folded his hands behind him like a general greeting a king as he stepped down from the car.
The ground groaned as boots plated with jagged steel hit its surface. Every step rang through the concrete like a hammer strike.
Clang.
Without hesitation, Lieutenant Hayes marched into the building, his head low, his bodyguard striding ahead, doors swinging open at his touch.
Reaching the receptionist desk, Hayes tilted his head upward and stared at the nurse.
"A boy was admitted here. Which room?!" He demanded, slamming a hand on the receptionist's desk.
The nurse sitting behind the desk frowned, "There's only one boy admitted recently, but his condition is not good." She said, rolling her eyes as she scanned the man from head to his waist.
"I asked for his room number, not his condition!" Hayes's voice boomed, making the nurse flinch with wide eyes.
"Sorry, sir," she whispered, voice trembling as she glanced at the badges on his chest.
The nurse's hands trembled as she flipped through the blue logbook. "R… room 777, sir! West wing!" She paused, trying to steady her breathing.
"Please take this pass. Without it, you won't be able to access his section." She continued in a shaky voice.
Lieutenant Hayes snatched it, gave no thanks, and strode down the hall. His metal-shod boots rang sharply against the floor, echoing through the sterile corridors.
The nurse remained terribly standing and shaking, even after the shadow of the man vanished.
The moment Hayes reached the room with that number, he handed the pass to his bodyguard and entered when the door opened as the green light flickered at the small screen.
The door slammed open, revealing Mr. Lee vigilant beside Leon's bed. An IV drip fed a sedative into Leon's arm. His eyes were closed, but his lids twitched frantically.
Lieutenant Hayes stared, disappointment heavy in his gaze as he stopped two feet away from the bed.
He sighed and shook his head the moment he walked toward him.
"You told us he was okay! WHAT IS THIS? I'm giving you up to 24 hours. After that, he will be banned from joining." Hayes's black eyes glowed with fury.
Mr. Lee stiffened. "Sir…" he paused, glanced at Leon, "Sir, I assure you he'll be there before the time elapses. He's just asleep."
Hayes snapped, turned to the window, and strode out. As he waited at the door, his bodyguard handed an envelope to Mr. Lee, then followed his master.
The moment the door slammed shut, Leon's body twitched violently, leaving Mr. Lee confused and stunned. He leaned in and placed his palm on Leon's forehead until Leon's body calmed.
In need of air, Mr. Lee stepped into the hallway, sighing. There, he saw a group of people circling a bed draped in white cloth. They held water suspended in the air by the use of hydrokinesis.
Slowly, he saw them narrow the floating water into a single orb that hovered above the body. It landed onto the body on the bed, soaking it.
Then, they clasped their hands like roots entwining as they spiraled around the boy on the bed.
Mr. Lee stayed there, watching. But when one woman's voice rose from their humming, he tried to move sluggishly, as if torn between action and listening. Their sorrowful hymn filled the hospital like a flood:
Death don't have no mercy in this land, in this land.
He'll come to your house, he don't stay long,
You'll look in the bed, find your mother's gone.
Death will go in every family in this land,
He'll leave you standing and crying in this land.
You'll look in the bed, one of your family will be gone.
He won't give you time to get ready in this land.
He'll come to your house, he won't stay long,
Death don't have no mercy in this land.
As she sang, the other women and men joined her, forming a mournful, melodious choir.
Mr. Lee's eyes widened as he witnessed their tears joining the pool of water they had created with their ability.
Screams filled the room like the chaos of a battlefield—so loud that passing nurses slowed their steps—until the woman's voice faded.
Mr. Lee dabbed the tears from his eyes and left the hospital with wet eyes.
…
Meanwhile, in Leon's mind, he drifted in an endless white space, floating and rolling like a ball.