Color rushed back into his face. The purple hue vanished and his blue lips turned pink.
Burt sat back, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead.
That had taken more energy than he expected. His body was still new to this cultivation.
The old man blinked, his eyes focusing. He looked up at the night sky, then at the dirty young man kneeling beside him.
"I..." the old man rasped, his voice commanding even in weakness. "I felt... the ice... leave."
The head bodyguard dropped his weapon yk check fhe old man's vitals, staring at Burt as if he were a ghost.
"He... he's stable. His pulse is strong."
Burt stood up, his legs slightly shaky. "He needs rest. And keep him away from cold drinks for a month. The poison isn't fully gone, but he won't die tonight."
Then turned to leave.
"Wait!"
The shout came from the car.
He stopped, his brows lifting slightly at the sight of a young woman stepping out.
She was stunning—dressed in a sharp business suit, with hair black as midnight and eyes that could cut glass.
She rushed over to the old man, checking him frantically, before turning her gaze to Burt.
"You saved my grandfather," she said, her voice trembling with a mix of relief and awe.
She looked him up and down.
Burt expected her to sneer, but instead she reached into her purse and pulled out a card.
It was black, made of heavy metal, with gold lettering embossed on the front.
Vance Family.
"I am Sarah Vance," she said, holding it out with two hands, a gesture of extreme respect. "My grandfather is Henry Vance. You have saved the Patriarch of the Vance family."
The crowd murmured, glancing at each other in disbelief.
Vance? The richest family in the state? The rivals of the Golds?
"Take this," Sarah insisted, pressing the black card into Burt's dirty hand. "This is the Vance Supreme Card. It has no limit. And with it, you can request one favor from our family. Anything. Anytime."
Burt looked at the card. It felt heavy. Cold. Powerful.
A favor from the Vance family?
He looked back toward the direction of Gold Medical. A slow, cold smile spread across his face.
"Anything?" Burt asked softly.
"Anything," Henry Vance whispered from the ground, grabbing Burt's wrist with surprising strength. "You gave me my life. We owe you yours."
Burt pocketed the card.
"I might take you up on that."
Then he left and continued walking until he came to a stop at a hotel.
The Grand Imperial Hotel towered over the city like a monument to excess.
It was the kind of place where a single night cost more than Burt used to make in a year at the hospital.
As he walked inside, his muddy shoes left a dirty trail.
"Hey! You! Stop right there!" A security guard, who was dressed better than Burt had been on his wedding day, rushed over.
He held up a hand, his nose wrinkling in disgust.
"Deliveries are in the back. And beggars are across the street. Get out before I call the cops."
Burt stopped and looked at the guard.
He didn't pick offence knowing how he looked and simply looked around, saying. "I want a room. The Presidential Suite if available."
The guard stared at him for a second, then burst out laughing.
"The Presidential Suite? Have you looked at yourself in the mirror? You look like you just crawled out of a sewer. Get out."
He reached for his baton.
Burt didn't move. He simply reached into his soaking wet pocket and pulled out the black metal card Sarah Vance had given him.
He held it up.
The lobby lights caught the gold embossing: VANCE.
The guard froze, his laughter dying in his throat.
He squinted at the card, then his eyes widened until they looked like they might pop out of his skull.
In this city, the Mayor had power. The Golds had money. But the Vances? They owned the ground everyone walked on.
"Is… is that…?" the guard stammered.
Burt fiddled with the card, "Run the card. Or call your manager. I don't like waiting."
The guard swallowed hard. He tapped his earpiece, his voice trembling. "Manager! Front desk! Code Black! We have a… a VIP guest at the entrance."
Ten minutes later, Burt was standing in the penthouse elevator.
The manager, a sweating man in a tuxedo, was bowing so low his nose almost touched the floor.
"Mr. Loy, please forgive the misunderstanding! Our staff is… unrefined. We will fire the guard immediately! Please, accept our humblest apologies."
"Keep the guard," Burt said, watching the numbers tick up. "He was just doing his job. But have someone bring up a suit. Black. Italian silk. And shoes. Size ten."
"Of course! Immediately! And for payment…?"
"Put it on the card," Burt said.
The elevator dinged. The doors opened to reveal a room larger than the entire cleaning quarters.
Burt walked in and locked the door, going straight to the bathroom.
He stripped off his wet, bloody clothes and looked at himself through the mirror.
His body was covered in grime, dried blood, and bruises that were fading faster than they should. But underneath the filth, he saw the changes.
The Primordial Body Refinement wasn't just a fancy name.
His ribs, which had been visible through his skin due to years of skipping meals, were gone.
In their place were defined, corded muscles.
His shoulders were broader. His skin, usually pale and sickly, now had a healthy, golden undertone.
He turned on the shower.
As the water swirled down the drain, turning from black to clear, Burt felt a weight lift off his soul.
He stepped out and wrapped a plush white towel around his waist.
Knock, knock.
"Room service, sir. Your clothes."
Burt opened the door. A terrified waiter held up a garment bag and a shoebox.
Burt took them. "Leave the cart."
He dressed slowly.
The suit fit as if it had been stitched onto his skin.
The white shirt was crisp, contrasting against his dark hair. The
jacket settled onto his shoulders with a reassuring weight. He slipped on the polished leather shoes.
He walked back to the mirror.
The Medical Gaze lingered in his pupils, giving him an intense, piercing look that demanded attention.
He checked his phone. It was the only thing that had survived the rain.
Twelve missed calls from the hospital dispatch. Three texts from the Gold family's estate manager asking him for rent.
And one news alert.
BREAKING NEWS: MAYOR'S SON IN CRITICAL CONDITION. GOLD MEDICAL STOCK PLUMMETS.