Chapter 53
As the members of the Watson family continued their quiet discussion, the sound of Walter and Brian’s laughter drifted in from outside the door.
Everyone immediately fell silent.
“Dr. Tanner, Dr. Calcraft, this way, please,” Walter called, his tone polite and respectful.
He led the two doctors into the room and introduced them to the gathered family members. “This is Dr. Tanner, as you all likely know. And next to him is Dr. Calcraft. He’s Dr. Tanner’s….” Walter paused, glancing at Brian.
Brian nodded, and Walter continued, “He’s Dr. Tanner’s grandmaster, a brilliant doctor with unparalleled skills. He will definitely cure the madam.”
“Good day to you both, Dr. Tanner and Dr. Calcraft!” The Watson family greeted them in unison, though Kai and Queenie remained standing motionless.
Queenie had brushed her teeth three times in an attempt to rid herself of the peculiar aftertaste, and she even blew into her hands to check if the smell was still there.
Brian quickly placed a hand on his chest in a gesture of humility. “No need for such courtesy,” he replied. He was acutely aware of the power and wealth of the Watson family, and he couldn’t afford to be careless around them.
Nash, however, remained unbothered. He casually stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets, looking completely at ease.
“Dr. Calcraft, please follow me upstairs,” Walter said, leading the way. The elevator was called, and the nanny stepped forward to press the button.
The madam’s room was located on the fourth floor, and before entering, they had to don sterilized protective clothing. They passed through a high-tech ultraviolet air shower room before finally reaching the madam’s ward.
The room, over 100 square meters, was stark white, almost clinical in its cleanliness. The old woman, lying on a two-meter-wide sickbed, looked like a shell of a person—her face gaunt and sunken, her appearance more like that of a dried corpse.
Despite her frail form, the machines monitoring her vital signs indicated stability—everything appeared normal.
Without wasting time, Nash approached the sickbed and grabbed the old lady’s wrist, feeling for her pulse. It was stable, strong—almost unnaturally so for a comatose patient.
Nash looked up at the nurses. “Do you have a scalpel?”
The nurses exchanged confused glances. He was merely checking the pulse; why would he need a scalpel?
Walter, seeing their hesitation, barked, “Why are you standing around? Get the scalpel for Dr. Calcraft!”
One of the nurses quickly retrieved the scalpel from the disinfection cabinet. Nash took it from her and, with practiced precision, slashed the old lady’s wrist.
“Stop! What are you doing?” The expressions of the Watson family members instantly shifted to shock, and several rushed forward to stop Nash.
Walter clenched his fists, his expression darkening. However, after a moment’s hesitation, he raised his hand, signaling for everyone to back off. “Everyone, step back.”
His wife had been bedridden for three years, with no one else able to treat her. He had to trust Nash.
Brian, too, was on edge, struggling to understand his grandmaster’s actions.
A nurse had quickly placed a tray beside the bed, and Nash used the scalpel to carefully stir the wound. Blood splattered, and pieces of flesh fell into the tray.
A few of the elegantly dressed women couldn’t bear to watch and turned away.
Walter’s face turned pale, and his mouth trembled in disbelief.
One of the nurses pointed to the wound, her voice high with alarm. “Oh my god, there are bugs in the flesh…”
Hearing this, Walter hurried over and peered at the wound. To his horror, bugs the size of rice grains were wriggling in the flesh.
“Dr. Tanner, do you know what these bugs are?” Walter asked, his voice trembling with fear.
Brian squinted, his brow furrowed. “They appear to be some sort of parasitic bugs… but I can’t be certain. I’ll need to consult with my grandmaster.”
Hope flickered in Walter’s eyes. “As expected of your grandmaster. He found the cause so quickly. I pray my wife can wake up soon.”