Chapter 1228

Inside one of Genesis Dispensary’s private wards, Mosby stood over his third apprentice, Ellis. He needed only a glance before saying coldly, “Start preparing for the funeral.”

Old Hayface and the rest of the gathered disciples froze like statues.

“Mr. Lake, even with your skills… you can’t save Ellis?” Old Hayface asked in disbelief.

Mosby scoffed. “I can’t. That punk Andrew shattered every meridian in Ellis’s body. Most critically, his brain took a major blow – he suffered a severe concussion. Right now, he’s no different from a vegetable.”

The more Mosby spoke, the angrier he became. He silently cursed, ‘Andrew, you little bastard… your death is coming.’

A young apprentice, no older than a teenager and clearly unaware of Mosby’s true nature, asked innocently, “But Mr. Lake, Ellis isn’t dead, right? We could take care of him here at Genesis Dispensary until he wakes up! Even if he never wakes up, you’re rich, Mr. Lake – you could support him for the rest of his life!”

The room fell silent. Then, both Mosby and Old Hayface burst into laughter.

Old Hayface chuckled cruelly. “Kid, you’re so pure it’s almost adorable.”

Mosby sneered. “Why the hell would I waste money caring for a useless lump like him?”

“Hayface, send Ellis off – make it peaceful.”

Old Hayface grinned. “On it!”

Under the terrified gaze of the young apprentice, who looked like he might pee himself, Old Hayface stepped forward. He pulled out a small vial filled with a bright green liquid and poured it straight into Ellis’s slack mouth.

Within seconds, Ellis’s body began to twitch violently. Then, he went completely still. Dead.

Old Hayface beamed. “Mr. Lake, that was my newest creation – a lethal toxin, flavored like soda. Ellis was the first to try it. He died calmly and quietly. Nice, right?”

Mosby stroked his beard and nodded. “Not bad. I’m satisfied.”

The young apprentice’s worldview shattered right then and there. Clutching his head, he cried out in shock. “Mr. Lake, we studied medicine to save lives and help people! Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do? Hayface, Mr. Lake… how could you do something like this? Ellis was our fellow apprentice!”

Old Hayface’s expression darkened as he barked, “Watch your mouth, kid! Do you think you have the right to question Mr. Lake?”

Mosby raised a hand, signaling him to stop. He walked over to the young apprentice and gently patted the boy’s small shoulder, smiling like a kindly grandfather.

He said slowly, “My child, remember this. Yes, we practice medicine to save lives and bring healing. But that only applies to people who can pay us in cold, hard cash. If they can’t, then too bad – our medicine isn’t for broke nobodies.

“Our needles, our skills, and our hospital beds – they’re not for freeloaders. That, my dear disciple, is the real truth of modern medicine.”

The young boy blinked, wide-eyed, nodding slowly as if trying to absorb it.

Then, he hesitated, still struggling, and asked, “But… Mr. Lake, what if there’s a patient who doesn’t have money, but it’s an emergency – life or death? In a case like that… shouldn’t we help first, and deal with the rest later?”

Mosby leaned in, his eyes gleaming with sharp intent. “In that case, remember – there’s one simple solution.”