Alice exhaled slowly, a quiet sigh carrying the weight of a truth she already knew.

She had never expected these descendants of hers to believe her.

As absurd as it sounded—even to herself—the middle-aged man glaring at her now, whose face bore the marks of time and authority, was in fact her grandson. It was an unchangeable truth.

Who could have imagined such a twist of fate?

Only yesterday, she had still been twenty-seven. And yet overnight, her seven-year-old boy had become a centenarian lying on his deathbed… a man with children, grandchildren, and even great-grandchildren of his own.

As the guards closed in with open hostility, Alice's expression remained serene, unshaken.

She did not move—until the leading guard raised his gun and pressed the cold muzzle squarely against her forehead. In that instant, she struck. Her hand shot out like a specter in the dark, fingers clamping down on the man's wrist with merciless precision.

The guard's pupils dilated in shock.

He had once served in an elite special forces unit. Even among seasoned fighters, his strength and reflexes were exceptional. Untrained men—no matter how large—were nothing to him.

He had dismissed this young woman as nothing more than a pretty face. Yet in a heartbeat, she had neutralized him.

Before his mind could process what was happening, Alice had already pivoted smoothly, executing a flawless shoulder throw that sent him crashing hard against the marble floor.

The movement was so swift, so clean, that no one even saw how it happened.

The man was nearly three times her size, yet she had cast him aside as effortlessly as one might flick away a feather.

The room fell into stunned silence. Without sparing him another glance, Alice walked calmly toward Michael. "I can't explain everything right now," she said evenly. "But I am Dami's mother. You are wasting precious time. Let me see him. Only I can help him recover."

Michael let out a harsh, bitter laugh, fury blazing in his eyes.

Around him, the rest of the family erupted in outrage.

"You're out of your mind!"

"Every renowned doctor in the world has examined my father. All of them admitted there's nothing they can do—and you dare claim you can save him?"

"You look barely twenty! What ability could you possibly have to save anyone's life?!"

Alice inhaled deeply, forcing herself to remain calm.

She understood their disbelief. Anyone in their position would react the same way. But if they delayed any longer, her son truly might cross the point of no return.

Just as the confrontation teetered on the edge, a shrill, piercing alarm suddenly erupted from upstairs.

Every head snapped toward the sound.

Moments later, a doctor stumbled out of Damien's room, his voice shaking as he shouted, "His heart rate just spiked—he's responding to external stimulation!"

The Wright family froze. Could it be—this woman truly had some connection to their father?

"Let me go up," Alice said firmly. "I'll take full responsibility. If you delay any longer, you'll regret it for the rest of your lives."

They were her descendants. She truly did not wish to force her way through them.

Michael clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms.

Suddenly, memories surfaced—his father's words from years ago. He had once spoken of their grandmother, who vanished in her twenties, leaving behind a shattered family and stolen fortune. Damien had grown up amid hardship, shuffled between distant relatives, with nothing but grit and resolve to sustain him.

Yet from that desolation, he had clawed his way back—reclaiming everything that was taken and building the Wright Group from nothing into a global empire revered across Oyhagas and beyond.

His father had always lived by a single creed: Never give up.

Remembering those words, Michael's heart jolted.

Even if there was only a one-in-ten-thousand chance—he had to take it.

Whether it meant a miracle… or simply allowing his father to pass in peace.

At last, he lifted his head, voice hoarse. "Go," he said heavily. "Go upstairs."

The moment permission was given, Alice wasted no time. She turned and moved swiftly toward the staircase.

Behind her, Bruce and Josie exchanged uneasy glances.

"Bruce…" Josie whispered, her voice dazed. "Who is she? Could she really… be our grandmother?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Bruce snapped. "Father said Grandma disappeared at twenty-seven. Even if she were alive, she'd be over a hundred and twenty by now. How could she look like this?" He scoffed coldly. "Besides, Father always said Grandma was a world-renowned medical scientist. The Wright Group still relies on the patents she left behind. That woman is obviously a fraud."

Josie nodded slowly. His logic made sense.

Seeing Michael already rushing upstairs, the two hurried after him.

Meanwhile, Alice moved down the hallway at a near run. From a distance, through the half-open doorway, she saw the figure lying on the bed—and her heart shattered. Her son.

The boy once crowned with thick black curls now lay fragile and skeletal, his hair snow-white, his body riddled with tubes and wires. His face was pale, hollow, barely recognizable.

Tears streamed down Alice's face. "Dami… my son…" she whispered, her voice breaking.

To her, it had only been a single night.

How had her gentle, bright-eyed little boy become this fragile old man hovering on the brink of death?

How was she supposed to accept such cruelty?

She stepped forward— and suddenly, a sharp force slammed into her. A white-haired woman in elegant attire charged down the corridor and shoved Alice violently aside.

"Stay away from my husband!" Her eyes burned crimson with rage as she shrieked, her voice shrill and trembling. "How dare you barge in here with malicious intent?!"

She spun toward Michael, accusing him loudly. "Have you lost your mind?! Letting some stranger near your father! What if she's here to harm him?!"

Michael stiffened. "Mother, I—"

"Enough." Alice's fists clenched, veins standing out sharply on her hands. "No one in this world loves Dami more than I do," she said, her voice quivering with restrained emotion. "I would never hurt him."

Ruby Wright staggered back. She stared at Alice's impossibly youthful, delicate face—at the unshakable certainty in her eyes.

Her body swayed. "You… you love him?!"

Suddenly, realization struck like lightning. Ruby collapsed to the floor, pointing at Alice with a trembling finger as she screamed, "I understand now… You're Damien's mistress?!"

"You shameless creature!" Ruby shrieked, her voice cracking with hysteria. "My husband is old enough to be your great-grandfather! How can you stand there without an ounce of shame, flaunting yourself as his mistress? Disgusting! I will never let you near him—never! That unfaithful old bastard… he deserves to die!"

In a sudden frenzy, she lunged toward the medical cart, snatched a syringe, and pressed its sharp tip against her own neck. Her eyes were wild, unhinged. "Take one more step, and I'll end my life right here!" she screamed.

Alice's heart seized violently.

The entire Wright family stood paralyzed, the weight of fear anchoring them in place.

Damien was already hovering on the edge of death—if Ruby were to collapse now, the family would truly be shattered beyond repair.

Watching from the side, Michael felt a crushing wave of regret wash over him. Had he acted too impulsively?

This woman seemed truly concerned about Damien. Could she truly be his clandestine mistress?

Michael struggled to reconcile this shocking possibility with the image of the honorable man he had always known. Yet, what other explanation could there be? Perhaps she had heard whispers of his father's impending demise and had come to stake her claim to his legacy.

Alice's fists clenched in frustration as she witnessed Ruby's hysterical outburst.

What course of action could she take now? Force her way inside?

Before she could decide, the frail figure on the hospital bed suddenly stirred, as if sensing the tumult around him.

Damien's skeletal body trembled faintly. Tears slipped from beneath his tightly shut eyelids, tracing shallow lines down his sunken cheeks. His lips quivered.

"Mo… Mom…" The whisper was barely audible, fragile as a dying breath.

"Dami!" Alice cried out, her voice breaking.

The sight of her son in such agony shattered the last of her restraint. Her eyes burned crimson with unshed tears as she spun toward Ruby. "I will say this one final time. Let me in!"

Ruby's expression twisted, spiraling fully into madness. "So that's it," she laughed hysterically. "He stirred to life because he heard your voice? What nonsense about wanting to see his mother one last time! Lies! All lies! That old monster was thinking of his mistress all along!"

Her voice rose to a shrill scream.

"I gave him everything! I stood by him when he had nothing, bore his children, built a family at his side—and behind my back, he kept a girl young enough to be his great-granddaughter?!" She pointed violently toward the door. "Get out! If you want to see him, wait until he's dead and follow him into the grave! I won't let you destroy my family—never!"

The Wright family stared helplessly at their father on the bed, torn apart by doubt and fear.

They didn't want him to suffer through his final moments. But what if Ruby was right? What if their father had truly betrayed their mother—and all of them?

Michael turned to Alice, his voice sharp and resolute. "Miss, you are acutely aware of the gravity of the situation. Regardless of your relationship with my father, I implore you to leave—now. If you are here for his fortune, I suggest you walk away quietly. I will have my lawyer reach out to you with a settlement."

His gaze hardened as he added, "But if you continue causing chaos, I assure you, you will gain nothing and may find yourself facing charges."

He fully expected her to back down.

But instead—Alice moved.

In a blur too fast for the eye to follow, she surged forward. By the time anyone reacted, she was already at the doorway.

Ruby gasped, eyes widening in horror. As she attempted to drive the syringe into her own artery, Alice seized her wrist with iron force.

Security guards reacted instantly. Guns were drawn, muzzles snapping up, aiming squarely at Alice's forehead.

A multitude of dark barrels loomed threateningly, yet Alice remained unfazed. With one hand gripping Ruby by the neck, she dragged her into the room, her steps steady.

Ruby thrashed violently, screaming curses. "Let go of me! Are you insane?! If anything happens to me, the Wright family will make you wish you were never born!"

"Enough," Alice retorted coldly, her voice unwavering as she turned to Michael, whose face was a mask of rage. "Prepare a sterile operating room and surgical instruments—immediately. Or face dire repercussions."

Michael's voice exploded with fury. "You dare hold my mother hostage?! Release her now! Otherwise, even if my father wakes up, he won't be able to protect you!"

Ruby shrieked louder still. "Michael! Order them to shoot! I'd rather die than let this whore touch him!"

Alice had reached the limit of her patience. With a casual flick of her wrist, Alice sent the syringe flying. It cut through the air like a bullet—piercing straight through a guard's gun barrel and pinning the weapon into the wall behind him.

"I will state this clearly for the last time," Alice said, her voice glacial. "Provide me with what I need. Or I will not hesitate to act—not even for Dami's sake."

Fear rippled through the Wright family.

They realized they were dealing with someone who must not be provoked. And if they refused her… their mother might truly die.

Michael, recognizing the futility of resistance, turned to the doctor beside him, urgency etched across his face. "Go! Do exactly as she says."

The doctors, their hands trembling with trepidation, scrambled to sterilize the area, hastily preparing an operating room and delivering a full tray of surgical instruments within.

Alice glanced at Ruby, who was still hurling curses—and without the slightest hesitation, struck her cleanly, knocking her unconscious.

The door slammed shut.

Alice quickly donned a sterile gown and grasped a scalpel with a steady hand, her resolve unwavering.

Outside, the entire Wright family crowded against the observation window, their faces drained of all color.

"Michael… it's over now," Bruce murmured, his voice barely a whisper, heavy with despair.

Bruce and Josie both looked ready to rush inside.

"She looks so young," Josie lamented. "Even if she possesses some medical knowledge, how can she possibly rival a trained surgeon? Allowing her to operate on Dad is like signing his death warrant!"

Michael's expression darkened with bitterness as he turned to their father's attending physician, Dr. Cody.

"Dr. Cody, what do we do now?" he asked quietly.

Dr. Cody's gaze remained fixed on the room, his voice quaking. "Mr. Wright is suffering from organ failure and a brain tumor… We can only pray she does not act recklessly. Perhaps… there remains a glimmer of hope for Mr. Wright..."

But before he could finish, they watched in horror as Alice gripped the scalpel and, without the slightest hesitation, sliced open Damien's scalp.

"She's lost her mind! She didn't even glance at the CT scan before cutting him open!" Cody's voice cracked with sheer terror, echoing down the corridor. "This is nothing short of murder!"

Michael's vision blurred. The warning Alice had given earlier vanished from his mind. He hurled himself at the door, striking it with both fists until his knuckles burned. "Stop! Stop this at once!" he roared hoarsely. "Security, break in! Use whatever it takes—drag her out! If anything happens to my father, I swear she will pay with her life! Bring more men—now!"

Inside the operating room, Alice might as well have been alone in another world. The shouting, the threats, the chaos beyond the glass never reached her. Her gaze was fixed solely on the fragile, exposed skull beneath the surgical light.

Once, she had stood at the pinnacle of modern medicine, a neurosurgeon whose name commanded global respect.

And now, inexplicably plunged forward a century in time, she found herself gifted with faculties far beyond medical knowledge: inhuman speed, formidable strength, and even the uncanny ability of x-ray vision.

To those outside, the surgical scene was a chaotic tableau of blood and bone. Yet, Alice perceived it differently; she could see through the skull as if it were made of glass, clearly identifying the small, egg-sized tumor nestled deep within the brain tissue—the very source of her son's affliction.

With a steadying breath, she began to drill into Damien's skull with meticulous precision, her hands a blend of skill and urgency.

Meanwhile, the Wright family huddled by the window, their hearts heavy with despair as they witnessed the crimson seepage staining the sterile pillow beneath their father's head. Each face reflected a profound sense of helplessness.

Even the most esteemed specialists had deemed the situation inoperable, opting instead for a course of palliative care. And now this mysterious young woman was carving into him as if guided by madness.

"Call the emergency team!" Michael shouted desperately. "Perhaps there's still a chance to save him!"

Soon, the doctors arrived. Their faces blanched as they peered through the glass.

Their shock quickly turned to outrage.

"This is barbaric! She's guessing blindly—does she think she has X-ray vision?!"

"Mr. Wright, letting her operate was a fatal mistake! This isn't medicine—it's homicide!"

Each accusation struck like a hammer against Michael's chest. The final spark of hope flickered… and then, the atmosphere changed.

The tide of criticism died down, giving way to a profound, stunned silence.

One doctor leaned closer to the glass, his eyes widening. "Wait… That insertion angle—it was perfect. She missed every major vessel."

Another whispered, stunned, "Her hemostasis technique… I've never seen anything so precise."

"Is she really operating without an assistant? From incision to suturing—her movements are flawless…"

Suddenly, someone gasped sharply. "She's found it. The tumor—she's right on it. But how could she possibly know where it is?"

No one moved. No one breathed. Every eye was fixed on Alice's hands.

They did not tremble. Each motion was fluid, economical, devastatingly precise. With delicate forceps, she clasped the tiny mass lodged within the brain.

Hair-thin neural strands clung to it, resisting like living threads. A subtle, practiced twist of her fingers—and the connections were severed.

Before anyone could fully comprehend what they had witnessed, Alice dropped a small, dark-red mass into the metal tray beside her.

The doctors stared in disbelief.

That was… the tumor? The one deemed impossible to remove?

And yet the woman who had done it was barely past her youth.

"She... did it," Cody whispered, his voice shaking. "The tumor the world's leading experts declared untouchable… she removed it in under five minutes…"

When Alice finally pushed open the operating room door, the crowd outside no longer looked at her with hatred or fear. They looked at her as though they were seeing a goddess.

Michael stepped forward, his voice unsteady with burgeoning hope. "Miss… my father…"

"The operation was successful," Alice replied evenly, offering a faint nod. "He'll regain consciousness soon. And when he does, he'll tell you exactly who I am."

Relief surged through the room— Until—

A long, shrill tone sliced through the air.

The cardiac monitor inside the room shrieked.

On the screen, the jagged rhythm of life stretched… straightened… and collapsed into one merciless, flat line.

Silence enveloped the corridor.

They all understood the grim implication.

The surgery had failed. Damien Wright was gone.