[Chapter 251: Superstar Michael's Supernatural Incident]
Michael Jackson.
Even in Hollywood, where celebrities flocked in droves, this name stood at the very apex of fame.
Memories from Daniel's past life flashed through his mind.
According to the timeline, this musical legend was currently entangled in various negative controversies.
Less than four years remained before his death in '09.
Daniel spoke coolly into the phone, "Michael, do you need something from me?"
"I'm dealing with... something that defies all common sense," Michael's voice trembled slightly. "It's about my ex-wife, Debbie. We met recently because of the kids, but... we can't touch."
"Can't touch?" Daniel didn't mock Michael for reaching out over this. After all, if it were just a metaphorical inability, the man wouldn't have called him.
Daniel asked, "You mean 'can't touch' physically?"
"Yes. Physically."
Michael's breathing was rapid. In the background, faint sounds of slimy friction could be heard.
"Whenever our skin actually comes into contact, it's like our flesh melts together, and 'fuses.' We have to use force to tear ourselves apart."
Daniel's heart stirred. He asked sharply, "Have you two been to any strange caves? Or maybe drunk some spring water that smelled fishy?"
"How... how did you know?" Michael's voice jumped in alarm. "Half a month ago, we went scouting locations in Nevada. We accidentally fell into a cave and got trapped. Debbie was desperate for water and drank some dripping from the rocks; I had a little, too. Ever since we got back, everything's been crazy."
Daniel's heart sank.
He'd known it. This was straight out of the horror film Together.
In that movie, the story centered on a secret mountain village cult that possessed 'Holy Water' extracted from deep, hidden springs.
Anyone who drank this water -- or had wounds soaked in it alongside another person -- suffered a terrifying biochemical reaction. The moment they touched, their cells mutated. Flesh and skin rapidly dissolved and reformed, forcibly merging two separate beings into a single grotesque conjoined creature.
The cult believed this was the ultimate form of symbiosis.
Just as Daniel was about to reply, a thought struck him -- Primordial Regenerative Marrow, a legendary reagent recorded in the Sacred Alchemical Transmutation..
This marrow was born inside the stone marrow of dark, frigid places and possessed astonishing regenerative properties. It served as the core ingredient in Regenerative Elixirs and was essential to the Rite of Sacred Reforging, capable of rebuilding even a shattered divine physique.
Daniel's calm heart suddenly rippled with excitement.
Such sacred healing medicine was nearly extinct.
It didn't just regrow bones; as long as the soul remained intact, even a body half-decayed could be forcibly pulled back to life.
Could this so-called Holy Water actually be Primordial Regenerative Marrow?
A fervent hope ignited within Daniel's heart.
If that was true, he'd be incredibly rich.
He hadn't even considered this before. There were countless horror stories; unless he encountered something firsthand, he wouldn't dwell on it.
But now, the possibility seemed very real.
As for why ordinary people couldn't touch after drinking it, and why they'd fuse on contact, Daniel knew he'd have to investigate further.
"Mr. Cross, are you still there?" Michael's voice broke into Daniel's thoughts.
"Of course I'm listening," Daniel said, his eyes gleaming.
This job was essential -- even if Michael refused to pay, Daniel had to take it.
"Michael, where are you now?" Daniel asked, standing up.
"Neverland Ranch, Santa Barbara, Los Angeles. I can send a helicopter to pick you up immediately."
"No need. Just wait for me."
...
Daniel ended the call and strode into the backyard.
With a shift of his body, he soared upward, quickly breaking through the clouds. It was daytime, so he had to fly high enough to avoid being seen.
Fortunately, both were in Los Angeles, so the distance was short. Minutes later, above Neverland Ranch, Daniel slowly descended.
Sweeping his Spiritual Sense, he detected all the human life signals within the ranch.
The ranch was enormous.
It housed various entertainment facilities -- an amusement park, a zoo, a movie theater -- filled with whimsy and fantasy.
But few people were around. Aside from staff, hardly anyone lingered inside the main building.
After identifying two particular auras, Daniel moved and appeared by a window.
Through the glass, Daniel saw a medical room.
Michael and Debbie sat reclined more than a dozen feet apart, their arms wrapped in thick, blood-stained gauze.
Seeing the figure he'd often seen on television, Daniel's heart stirred.
By the timeline, this was when Michael was plagued by scandals. The public had never reached a firm conclusion on whether the accusations were true. Yet those close to him had almost all stood by his side, insisting he had never done such things.
These thoughts crossed Daniel's mind briefly before he shook them off.
Such matters were irrelevant now.
What counted was resolving the current crisis.
...
"Mr. Cross!" Michael spotted Daniel outside the window and gasped. "You... you can fly?"
Michael tried to rise but, weak, fell back onto the recliner.
Debbie also stared at Daniel in disbelief, mouth agape.
Daniel said nothing.
In a flash, he slipped through the open window.
He stood before Michael and peeled back the gauze covering his arm.
There was a palm-sized bloody hole on Michael's forearm. The muscle tissue inside was a strange silvery-gray. The flesh writhed slightly, as if alive. Alongside the thick scent of blood came a peculiar sweet fragrance of vitality.
Daniel looked at Debbie's wound, it was the same.
He stared at the moving flesh and inhaled the sweet scent, a flicker of eagerness in his eyes.
It really was Primordial Regenerative Marrow -- and of exceptional purity.
"Mr. Cross, can it be cured?" Michael's eyes shone with desperate hope.
"It can be cured," Daniel said, "but the process will be extremely painful." He concealed his own emotions and met Michael's gaze. "To save your lives, the cost is 100,000 US dollars each. But I have one more condition."
"What condition?" Michael asked quickly.
Daniel said, "I want to visit that cave where you drank the water."
Michael blinked, then nodded repeatedly.
"No problem! I never want to return to that hellhole in my life. But if you can cure us, I'll personally take you there."
Daniel withdrew a vivid green crystal vial from his robe, followed by three slender silver ritual probes engraved with consecrated sigils.
"Place your hand flat," he instructed Michael.
Michael struggled but raised his arm, resting it on the operating table.
Inside the palm-sized wound, the silvery-gray flesh churned wildly, like countless tiny maggots.
Daniel's eyes sharpened.
The silver needles in his hand flickered down in a swift, precise motion.
*****
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