Chapter 81 — A Sense of Security
At two in the afternoon, Ethan was organizing a list of medical supplies when the phone suddenly rang.
He picked it up casually.
"Rayne Clinic."
On the other end of the line came a woman's voice—polite, professional, and deliberately understated.
"Doctor Rayne, apologies for disturbing you. I'm Mr. Whitmore's assistant."
Ethan paused his work for a moment.
"Oh? What is it? Is Mr. Whitmore rescheduling this week's treatment?"
"No, the treatment will proceed as scheduled."
Her tone maintained the same polite distance as she moved to the main point.
"Mr. Whitmore has learned through several channels about the attack that occurred in your clinic last night."
"He was extremely shocked—and deeply concerned about your safety."
Ethan felt a slight stir in his chest but didn't respond immediately.
"From a professional security assessment perspective," she continued, "the current level of protection at your clinic is below the risk level associated with the people you are now interacting with."
She paused briefly, lowering her voice slightly.
"Therefore, Mr. Whitmore hopes—if you permit it—to conduct a necessary security upgrade for the clinic."
Ethan responded instinctively.
"That really isn't necessary."
"Last night was just an accident. There's nothing to worry about."
The assistant didn't interrupt him. She waited patiently until he finished speaking.
Then she replied in the same courteous tone, though now with a hint of greater seriousness.
"I understand your position, Doctor Rayne. Mr. Whitmore has no intention of interfering with your decisions."
"This call is only meant to explain the risks involved and to request your permission—not to make decisions on your behalf."
She continued calmly.
"If you agree to the upgrade, the plan will only involve basic improvements to the clinic's protective infrastructure."
"For example: replacing the door with a bullet-resistant model, installing curtain-wall-grade bulletproof glass, explosion-resistant hinge structures, and a double-layer steel core door."
"It will not involve any external armed security or visible defensive installations."
"All expenses will be fully covered by Mr. Whitmore."
Ethan remained silent for a few seconds.
"I still don't think that's necessary."
The assistant didn't sound surprised.
Instead, she smoothly shifted to a secondary proposal.
"If you insist on not modifying the clinic itself, Mr. Whitmore has prepared a second option."
Ethan's eyelid twitched slightly.
"That doesn't sound good… What is it?"
"He plans to purchase the two nearest residential units surrounding your clinic."
"They would serve as observation points."
"Personnel would be stationed there twenty-four hours a day to ensure immediate response to any unusual situation."
Ethan: "…"
He cut her off almost instantly.
"That's completely impossible."
"That's not security observation—that's surveillance."
"I don't need people watching me twenty-four hours a day."
"That's direct interference with my personal freedom!"
There was a brief hesitation on the other end of the line.
When the assistant spoke again, her voice had become even softer and more respectful.
"I understand your objection, Doctor Rayne."
"And precisely because of that, Mr. Whitmore strongly hopes you will consider the first proposal."
"It is almost invisible to outsiders. It requires no stationed personnel and will not alter your current lifestyle."
"It simply ensures that no one can casually burst into your clinic again."
"…."
That last point actually struck a chord.
Although how these people knew everything was still a mystery.
Leaning against the counter, Ethan exhaled slowly.
He thought about everything that had happened recently—especially the nervous feeling he always had when secretly practicing his abilities, worried someone might notice.
Maybe upgrading the security wasn't such a bad idea after all.
Finally, he spoke.
"Alright. We can do the upgrade."
On the other end, the assistant clearly let out a small breath of relief.
But Ethan immediately added:
"However, I have a few conditions."
"First—do not interfere with convenient entry and exit."
"Second," Ethan added, "the exterior appearance must stay the same. Don't turn the clinic into something luxurious—or worse, a bunker."
"Third, I don't accept any visible or hidden security personnel stationed nearby."
The assistant on the other end immediately agreed to everything.
"That's perfectly fine. All adjustments will follow your requirements."
"The highest priority will be not interrupting daily medical operations and not changing the clinic's outward appearance."
"All construction will take place at night. You won't need to worry about any paperwork."
"The work will be completed within twenty-four hours."
"Tomorrow morning, you can simply come to work as usual."
As the conversation drew to a close, she added one last sentence:
"Thank you for your understanding, Doctor Rayne."
The call ended.
Ethan stared at the dark phone screen for a few seconds without moving.
Finally, he muttered quietly to himself,
"…Just how insecure are rich people?"
---
After a full day of work at the clinic, Ethan finally reached closing time.
Stepping outside, he paused beside the car rather than getting in immediately.
Instead, he slowly walked around it once.
The black Dodge Charger crouched low along the curb, its hard lines resembling a predator pressed close to the ground.
It didn't belong on this street.
And it certainly didn't match the everyday identity of Doctor Rayne.
But…
It was already here.
When someone delivers something to your doorstep like that, it would feel awkward to complain and ask for a different one.
He opened the door.
A cool scent of leather mixed with engine oil drifted out.
He took a brief look at the interior before sliding into the seat.
The door shut with a deep, heavy thud, sealing the world outside like a steel vault.
Ethan glanced toward the passenger seat.
A stack of documents lay there.
He flipped through them casually until his eyes landed on a vehicle modification list.
Protection Level: B6
Door Core: Composite armored steel
Windows: Multi-layer laminated bulletproof glass
Chassis Reinforcement: Completed
Fuel Tank Explosion Protection: Upgraded
Ethan slowly scanned the lines.
"…Is this really necessary?"
He couldn't help letting out a half-laugh.
It felt like he had somehow become a valuable asset that needed protection.
He tossed the papers aside and turned the key.
The engine came alive.
Not with an exaggerated roar, but with a deep, rolling growl that vibrated through his chest—like a beast awakening in the night.
Ethan gently pressed the accelerator.
The next moment—
The engine snarled.
The entire car surged forward like it had been kicked violently from behind.
The push-back in the seat was immediate and powerful.
The street scenery was dragged backward in an instant, wind noise sealed outside the cabin while low-frequency vibrations surged through the seat into his spine.
Nice.
Not light and nimble—
But the kind of brute force that felt capable of tearing up asphalt.
During turns, the car stayed low and heavy.
At a red light, the brakes pulled all that power back under control, stopping the vehicle perfectly steady.
Ethan leaned back in the seat and slowly exhaled.
"…Great. Now I even have the main character's signature ride."
"Should I start considering a career change and become a hitman?"
The traffic light turned green.
The black Dodge slid smoothly into the stream of traffic, disappearing into the evening as it headed toward Ethan's apartment.