Chapter 31
“There’s no need to go to a hotel. Let’s just find a restaurant nearby,” Nash suggested, his reluctance to travel far evident. He didn’t want to be walking back later, having already made the journey from Baroque’s headquarters on foot.
Brian grinned, clearly pleased by Nash’s choice. “Great! I know a fantastic food stall just around the corner. Used to go there with some old friends. Let’s eat there!”
Without wasting time, Brian led Nash to a roadside food stall. The owner greeted them warmly, recognizing Brian immediately.
“Dr. Tanner! What brings you here today?” the restaurant owner asked, a wide grin on his face.
Brian laughed. “I’ve been craving your food. Bring us your best dishes!”
“Of course!” the owner responded, his enthusiasm matching Brian’s. He instructed the kitchen to prioritize their order and, as a special gesture, even brought out his own well-aged fine spirit, offering it to Brian and Nash.
As they sat down, Brian poured two glasses of the alcohol, his hands steady with reverence. Lifting his glass, he beamed at Nash. “Grandmaster, our last meeting was brief, so let’s call this our first proper one. A toast to you!”
Nash smiled, raising his glass without hesitation and downing the contents in one smooth gulp.
Brian sighed with satisfaction. “Now this is good alcohol… This owner certainly knows how to treat a guest.”
Nash set down his glass and glanced at Brian. “Don’t beat around the bush. What’s on your mind? As the sole successor of my martial brother’s lineage, I’ll help however I can if you’re in trouble.”
Brian met Nash’s gaze and, seeing no signs of hesitation, continued. “The wife of Walter Watson, the wealthiest man in Jonford, has a strange illness. Her body functions perfectly, and there’s no sign of brain death, but she’s been in a coma for three years.”
Nash remained calm as Brian elaborated, sensing the urgency behind the words. “Walter’s charity work is centered around traditional medicine. If we can cure his wife, we could bring in significant charitable donations to the medical community in Jonford.”
Nash picked up a peanut from the table and chewed thoughtfully. After a moment, he poured himself another glass of alcohol. “How much is the consultation fee?”
Brian didn’t hesitate. “Ten million.”
Nash raised an eyebrow. Ten million was more than enough to cover 400 consultations. Even his master’s fee had never been that high, and only after successful treatment. But Nash wasn’t driven by money. He considered the matter carefully.
“Isn’t ten million too little for the Watson family?” he asked, his voice even.
Brian chuckled, understanding Nash’s perspective. “Grandmaster, you set the price, and I’ll handle the negotiations with Walter.”
Nash finished his drink in one gulp and set the glass down with quiet determination. “For your sake, let’s settle on ten million.”
Brian frowned. “No, ten million doesn’t match your status. I’ll speak to Walter about fifteen million.”
Nash’s expression didn’t change. If anything, there was a subtle disdain in his eyes, as if the figure wasn’t even worth debating. His expertise in Divine Needling was unmatched—his medical skills were far superior to Brian’s master’s—and his fees reflected that.
Brian stepped aside to make the call. As he quoted fifteen million, Walter’s response came immediately, without hesitation.
“Fifteen million is nothing to us,” Walter said. “If you can cure my wife, any amount is worth it.”
Brian returned to the table, satisfied. He raised his glass to Nash, who reciprocated with a nod.
After finishing their meal and drinks, the two of them, slightly intoxicated, set off toward the Watson family estate.
The Watsons’ residence was nothing short of magnificent, resembling a sprawling castle. Inside the estate, Kai stood watching, the photo of Nash that he had burned now reduced to ashes in his hands. He stepped into a sleek convertible, followed closely by seven other cars, the sound of their engines reverberating across the grand estate.
As the security guard opened the gates, Kai’s eyes locked onto Nash’s slightly flushed face. His expression darkened as he set his sights on the man approaching.