"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.

Alice stared at the lifeless line crawling across the monitor, her brow knitting as her mind refused to accept what her eyes were seeing.

Impossible. The tumor had been cleanly excised. Every vessel had been preserved. There was no medical reason for cardiac arrest.

A sharp, grief-stricken cry tore through the silence. "Father is dead—she killed him!" Josie screamed, her voice cracking.

She pointed a trembling finger at Alice, her eyes blazing with hatred. "He could have lived a little longer! Long enough for us to say goodbye! But you… you stole even that! You murderer!"

Michael felt the world tilt beneath his feet.

This was his fault. If he hadn't let this strange woman into the estate… if he hadn't believed her impossible claims… his father would still be breathing. He had trusted her—and in doing so, had handed her the knife that destroyed everything.

His grief hardened into something dark and venomous. "Security," he said slowly, each word soaked in fury. "I want her to suffer so much that she'll beg for death."

Immediately, armed guards flooded the corridor, rifles raised, black muzzles locking onto Alice from every direction.

Michael stared at her with bloodshot eyes. "Kneel. If you beg properly, I might grant you a quick death."

Alice didn't react. She didn't even look at him. Her gaze remained fixed on the monitor, her thoughts racing.

"My operation was flawless," she said calmly, her voice carrying an unmistakable authority. "Your father is not dead. I need to examine him again."

She stepped toward the bed. Before she could reach it, Bruce—consumed by wrath—raised his pistol.

"Examine my backside!" he spat. "Michael, what are you waiting for? Are you too enchanted by her face to pull the trigger? If you won't kill her, I will."

He fired—three times in rapid succession. The bullets sliced through the air, aimed straight at Alice's head.

Every eye in the room followed their trajectory, certain she would collapse lifelessly at any moment.

Yet, Alice didn't flinch. Instead, she reached out, her hand extending toward the very bullets.

Josie scoffed bitterly. "Catching bullets barehanded? Does she think she's some kind of—"

Her words died in her throat.

In the next heartbeat—

Alice opened her palm. Three mangled bullets lay there, crushed into twisted scrap metal. She squeezed her fist, and silver dust spilled between her fingers, scattering across the floor with a faint, mocking chime.

The Wright family stood frozen, disbelief hollowing their faces.

"I told you," Alice said, stepping in front of the bed, her presence radiating terrifying authority. "Dami is not dead. Interfere again—and I will no longer show restraint."

Michael's face twisted with terror and madness.

"Fire!" he roared. "I don't care what she is—burn this place down if you must! I want her dead!"

Alice's expression hardened.

In an instant, the room erupted into chaos. Machine guns roared to life, a tempest of bullets surging forward.

She lunged ahead, covering Damien's frail body with her own, her back absorbing the storm.

The scorching rounds struck her, ricocheting off her impossibly dense muscle and bone.

Yet there were too many.

A relentless barrage of bullets rained down upon her, the cumulative force finally overwhelming her defenses.

A sharp, tearing sound echoed as three rounds grazed her cheek. Pain flared, hot and sudden.

Crimson droplets splattered from her face, landing precisely on Damien's parched, slightly parted lips.

Smoke filled the room like a ghostly shroud. As the gunfire ceased, a sight that defied reality unfolded: the bullets that had burrowed into Alice's flesh were being expelled, one by one, clattering to the ground like worthless pebbles.

Every gaze remained fixed on her in horror.

Then, right before their astonished eyes, the gruesome gunshot wounds began to mend.

Skin knitted itself together, muscle reformed, and blood vanished. Within seconds, only faint pink traces remained, as though the injuries had never existed.

"What… what kind of monster are you?" Michael stumbled backward, his voice trembling.

Alice paid him no heed. She bent down, her fingers swiftly checking Damien's vitals.

Then— Like a spark igniting in the depths of darkness, the old man's withered fingers twitched.

Under the family's incredulous stares, Damien slowly opened his eyes.

The cloudiness faded, inch by inch, until his gaze settled on Alice's face.

Summoning strength no one believed he still possessed, the legendary tycoon—the man whose name had once made the world tremble—struggled upright. He ignored his children, his empire, his wealth. He slid from the bed and fell to his knees before the young woman.

His cracked lips trembled.

And in a voice thin with age yet heavy enough to shake the room, he whispered a single word—"Mom."