The Girlboss Begs for Remarriage

Dan, however, was completely confused when he arrived at Gerald’s residence to find him coughing repeatedly, occasionally spitting blood.

“Dan, why did my condition get so bad?” Gerald asked.

Dan could only rub his beard and ask, “Your pulse is a mess. Did you eat anything bad recently?”

Gerald shook his head repeatedly. “No… and I took the medicine like you ordered me to…”

That left Dan even more confused, and he growled through his teeth, “Your symptoms are all so bizarre. This is beyond me now.”

“What?! How?!” Tidus Simmons cried, grabbing his arms. “You’re the best healer in Riverton! You have to save my father!”

“I’d rather nothing happen to him too,” Dan said bitterly. “But I have limits, and…”

He trailed off, but he basically meant there was no hope.

Tidus felt his breath leave his lungs as he dropped to a heap beside his father.

Still, Gerald appeared calm. “It’s alright. Death is merely nature running its course–no one can ever beat it.”

Nonetheless, the bedroom was exceedingly gloomy, and the Simmons residence was devoid of its

usual cheer.

After all, Dan had just sentenced Gerald to death.

Just then, a servant rushed inside Gerald’s bedroom. “Mr. Simmons? Ms. Turnbull called, saying she wants to speak with you.”

Gerald did a double take, but he took the call and immediately heard Vicky’s confident laughter. “Mr. Simmons, I heard your condition got worse this morning? Congratulations!”

Gerald glowered right then–anyone on their deathbed would be if they were congratulated for that.” What is this, Ms. Turnbull? There’s no grudge between us–why would you look forward to my death?

“No, Mr. Simmon. I’m congratulating you for the fact that there’s a miracle healer in Riverton who

can save you,” Vicky explained.

Gerald sighed. “Dan Zimmer’s here, and he’s already given up. You can come see me off if you’re wishing me well, though.”

“No, you misunderstand,” Vicky said bluntly. “Do you remember Mr. Lawrence, whom I introduced you to the other day?”

“Him?” Gerald was taken aback.

He certainly remembered, and he certainly bore the grudge from two days ago!

“That’s the one,” Vicky said. “He’s the only one who can save you now–that’s all I have to say. It’s up to you to believe me.”

With that, Vicky hung up.

Seeing that his father was lowering his phone, Tidus promptly asked, “What did Ms. Turnbull say, Dad?”

Geral took a deep breath. “Ahem… Vicky asked me to look for Frank Lawrence and told me that he can help me.”

“Who’s Frank?” Tidus asked, bemused.

Dan explained, “Ms. Turnbull claimed that he treated her paralysis.”

Tidus promptly turned toward Dan. “Do you think we can trust him?” Content bel0ngs to Nôvel(D)r/a/ma.Org.

“He’s very young,” Dan said quietly. “However, Ms. Turnbull trusts him profoundly. Since there’s nothing to be done with Gerald’s condition, there’s no harm in letting him try.”

In other words, it was an option in the absence of others.

Seeing that Dan agreed, Tidus promptly rose to his feet. “In that case, I’ll go look for him.”

He promptly called Vicky, asking for Frank’s address and leaving immediately.

Over at his penthouse suite in Verdant Hotel, Frank was standing before a pill cauldron.

He turned off the fire and opened it, taking three blood–hued pills.

They were called Ichor Pills–he had brewed them using his blood as the prime substance and the panacea cap as a complement. It cleared veins, curing any underlying conditions… and could even bring the dead back to life.

However, every time one was made, it would burn out the brewer in spirit. If anything, Frank’s ability to make three at once made him an unparalleled genius!