Chapter 839 - Chapter 835: The Sadness Sparked by Reflection

Let's skip the part about Deck's inner frustrations. 😅

Adam once again effortlessly crushed this so-called British special elite and drove back to the medical center.

As for the two favors Deck mentioned—going all out to help Adam with two things—Adam didn't take it seriously at all. With his wealth and influence, there wasn't much he'd need help with from someone like Deck. And if he did need help, it'd probably be something private he wouldn't dare share with that guy anyway.

That bald jerk wasn't Juno, after all—he was shady as hell! 😒 Given the troublemaking nature of the special department Deck worked for, if he helped Adam out, he'd 100% turn it into leverage and blackmail Adam into doing his dirty work. Before long, Adam would go from a respectable figure in the spotlight to some shadowy puppet. No thanks!

Kate had dug up some info saying Deck had defected from the British special department and was now working as an underground delivery guy locally. Yeah, right—what a joke. Once you're in that world, with a license to kill and a laundry list of unrecordable, illegal stunts—like the kind of "real men don't look back at explosions" vibe—there's no walking away alive.

If the truth came out, how could the families of all those innocents killed in explosions and violent chaos just accept some smug bastard strutting around? Regular folks might not have the power to do anything, but what about the cops who'd been treated like disposable extras, dying left and right? Their families and colleagues are armed to the teeth. You think their guns would just let someone that arrogant keep breathing?

There were only two paths: either go full rogue, take on your old bosses and everyone else, and live on the run until it kills you—which, let's be real, is a dead end with one guy against the world—or pretend to rebel while secretly staying a tool for the old crew. With the higher-ups covering your tracks, all the bad press gets buried.

Seeing Deck still alive and thriving as this "100% successful underground delivery guy," Adam was dead certain he'd picked the second option. The reason? Easy guess. "Underground delivery" means rubbing shoulders with the underworld—basically undercover work. In a world where even nukes get shipped around like it's nothing (thanks, TV tropes!), a guy like Deck could easily get recruited by some crime lord to deliver the big stuff. That's where his undercover value kicks in. Saving the world one shady package at a time, huh? 😂

Sure, it looks glamorous on the outside, but that life's drenched in blood and darkness. Adam, shining like the sun, would never stoop to that level. Dream on, Deck!

---

"How'd it go?" 

Back at the medical center, Kate was already waiting and came right up to him.

"What do you think?" Adam grinned.

"I want details!" Kate pressed, eyes sparkling.

After Adam gave her the rundown—complete with the "Panda Buddha Origin Story"—she burst out laughing. "You're awful, you know that?"

"Alright, you've had a long day. Go get some rest," Adam said with a nudge. "I'm gonna check the rooms."

"Got it." Kate nodded with a smile.

It was 2:30 AM now—just a few hours from dawn. With everything settled, exhaustion hit her like a wave. Adam headed to Owen's room. George, worn out and sleepy, was sprawled on a gurney in the hall, snoozing away. Shorty was reading a book but jumped up when he saw Adam.

"How's it going?" Adam asked.

"All good," Shorty replied. "Owen's brother called earlier. Said to take good care of him and that he's dropping the other issues. George finally relaxed and just crashed."

"Everyone else in the loop?" Adam asked.

"Yeah, they know," Shorty said, eyeing Adam. "Dr. Duncan, did you handle this?"

"Get Carter to take over for you. Catch some sleep," Adam said with a casual smile, dodging the question.

"I'm not tired," Shorty shook his head.

Adam glanced at him—guy looked fine, full of energy—so he didn't push it. After a few quick instructions, he left. Willing workers are always a plus! 😊

Back in his office, Adam sat down and mentally replayed the day's events. Couldn't help it—with these special characters, you can't be too careful. He wasn't just reviewing now; he'd already planned to call Juno over this weekend to go over everything with her again. Better safe than sorry!

"Huh?" 

Mid-replay, his brain on fast-forward, Adam suddenly caught some details he'd missed before. With a thought, his super-brain's HD memory kicked into 0.5x slow-mo. Crystal clear now. Yup, no doubt about it.

He grabbed the phone and dialed.

A few minutes later, a knock came at the door. A Black woman in a white coat stepped in. 

"Dr. Duncan, you wanted me?"

"Jenny, come in," Adam said, standing to greet her. He ushered Jenny Blake, the ER doctor's assistant, to a seat and closed the door behind her.

Jenny's eyes flickered with panic. 

Adam sighed inwardly.

"Jenny, you know me," he said carefully. "If something's up, you can tell me. If I can help, I'll do what I can."

"I know," Jenny forced a smile. "But I don't know what you're getting at, Dr. Duncan. I don't need help."

"When were you diagnosed?" Adam nodded, then cut to the chase. "What's the viral load?"

"…How'd you know?" Jenny's face went pale.

"Today's emergency was chaos—everyone was frazzled, especially with Owen's brother breathing down our necks," Adam explained. "I didn't notice anything off about you at first. But when I thought back just now, I realized your panic was different. You wouldn't touch anything sharp, avoided patients' wounds like the plague—not even looking at them—and swapped tasks with someone else with an excuse. When you left, your watch beeped. You silenced it, glanced around, and bolted. Time for meds, right? Cocktail therapy?"

"…Yeah," Jenny admitted, deflated. She couldn't deny it—not with him laying it out like that.

Ever since she found out she'd contracted HIV, she'd been obsessive about keeping it secret. With all the wild stories floating around about Adam, she'd instinctively kept her distance. But even in the frantic ER, where she wasn't even on his team, he'd caught her in his peripheral vision and unraveled her biggest secret. What could she even say? 

Guess it's just fate. 😔

"Viral load's 15,000," she mumbled.

"15,000? Not bad," Adam nodded. "Which triple cocktail are you on?"

"Zidovudine, lamivudine, and a protease inhibitor," Jenny said, head down.

"That's the latest mix," Adam noted. "No long-term studies yet, but early results show it's better than the stuff from a decade ago. Side effects can be rough, though…"

Jenny stayed quiet. 

Adam studied her for a moment, then spoke gently. "Jenny, I know you're not the type to mess around. You got HIV either from a needle stick or your husband—"

"Ex-husband!" she snapped, cutting in.

"Sorry," Adam said sincerely. "I know it's not your fault. But since it's happened, I'd like you to consider requesting a transfer—"

"No!" Jenny's head shot up, locking eyes with him. "I take precautions—I won't infect patients! There's only been one case of a dentist passing it on. I won't mess up my work!"

Adam's brow furrowed.

(Chapter End)