Lucas stepped forward the moment he realized something was wrong, intending to take control before the situation slipped further out of hand, but two foreign security guards immediately blocked him, their arms extending just enough to make it clear he would not pass.
"Step back, sir."
Before Lucas could argue, the monitor behind them erupted into a rapid, piercing alarm, the sharp beeping cutting straight through the hall and freezing the scattered conversations mid-sentence.
The lead doctor's expression changed instantly as he leaned toward the screen, his eyes scanning the violently fluctuating data. Whatever calm professionalism he had maintained until now disappeared, replaced by something much darker. He turned abruptly, locking onto Lucas with disbelief and anger.
"What did you do?" he demanded, his voice uneven with agitation. "Are you out of your mind? Do you even understand what you've done to him?"
The entire hall stirred, confusion turning into unease.
Chairman Quinn stepped forward, clearly shaken but still trying to maintain some composure. "Doctor, what exactly are you saying? My father… he looks better, doesn't he? His complexion has improved. That should mean the treatment is working, right?"
"Working?" The doctor let out a harsh, almost incredulous laugh, shaking his head as he pointed sharply at the monitor. "This is not recovery. This is forced stimulation. His heart was already at its limit, and those needles you used triggered a massive stress response. You didn't heal him—you pushed his body into overdrive and forced it to burn through whatever little strength he had left."
Lucas's expression tightened. "That's impossible. The Trembling Dragon Needle regulates internal flow. It harmonizes the body. It cannot—"
"It cannot?" the doctor cut him off, his voice rising. "Look at the data! You're not harmonizing anything. You're overstimulating everything. This is the equivalent of forcing a dying engine to run by igniting the fuel tank. Yes, it moves again for a moment, but it destroys itself in the process. That 'improvement' you're seeing will last ten minutes at best, and after that his heart will fail completely. When it does, no one here will be able to save him."
The words fell heavily, and the large screen behind them suddenly switched to a live scan. Old Master Quinn's heart appeared in stark detail, beating at an erratic and dangerous pace, the surrounding vessels darkened and swollen in a way that made the danger obvious even to those without medical knowledge.
Lucas stared at it, his confidence visibly cracking. "No… that shouldn't happen. This technique has been passed down for generations. It's meant to circulate energy throughout the body, not destroy it. There must be something wrong with your interpretation of the data."
"That so-called energy of yours is the problem."
Victor's voice entered the conversation without force, yet it silenced everything around it. He walked forward at an unhurried pace, stopping just in front of Lucas and looking at him with a level, measured gaze that carried neither anger nor sympathy.
"In today's world," he continued, "medicine is built on verification. Data. Reproducible results. If a method cannot withstand that standard and still gets used on a living patient, then it is not medicine. It is guesswork dressed up as tradition."
Lucas frowned, his jaw tightening. "You don't understand what you're talking about. There are things modern science cannot measure—"
"And yet," Victor interrupted, glancing briefly at the monitor, "modern science is the only thing keeping him alive right now."
That single sentence cut deeper than anything the doctor had said.
Around them, the Quinn family's reactions shifted rapidly. What had begun as cautious hope turned into anger, and that anger quickly sharpened into something far more hostile.
Chairman Quinn stepped forward again, this time without restraint. "So what you're saying is that everything he did… nearly killed my father?"
The doctor didn't hesitate. "Yes. If we don't intervene immediately, that is exactly what will happen."
That was enough.
Chairman Quinn's restraint snapped. He closed the distance in two quick steps and struck Lucas across the face with all the force he could muster.
"I trusted you," he said, his voice shaking with fury. "You said you could save him."
Lucas staggered slightly from the blow, one hand rising slowly to his cheek as he tried to process what had just happened. His gaze shifted instinctively toward Sophia, as if searching for support.
"Sophia, you have to believe me. I would never harm him. I was trying to help—"
"I wanted to believe you," she said, her voice trembling, though she didn't look away. "But how do you explain this? If your method really works, why did things turn out like this? You saw the same data we did."
Lucas opened his mouth, but no words came out.
After a moment, she shook her head, her expression hardening despite the tears in her eyes. "Please leave. I don't want to see you here anymore."
The rejection was quiet, but it carried more weight than any accusation.
For the first time since he had entered the hall, Lucas had nothing to say.
At that moment, the medical team moved decisively.
"Administer a beta-blocker immediately," the doctor ordered. "We need to bring his heart rate down before it destabilizes further. Prepare ECMO support. If his heart can't sustain circulation, we take over."
The room shifted from confrontation to urgency as the team worked in coordinated precision. Medication was administered, equipment adjusted, and within minutes the chaotic spikes on the monitor began to slow.
Chairman Quinn watched without blinking, his hands clenched at his sides as the red lines gradually steadied. The unnatural color in the old man's face faded, replaced by a weak but stable pallor, and his breathing became more regular.
The doctor finally exhaled. "He's stable for now," he said. "He's not out of danger, but he's alive."
A wave of relief spread through the room, though it was laced with lingering fear.
Victor turned his attention back to Lucas, his expression unchanged. "You've seen the result," he said. "This is what happens when confidence replaces competence. If you still believe in what you were doing, then you're not just mistaken—you're dangerous."
Lucas lowered his gaze, the earlier defiance gone, replaced by something far more uncertain.
Victor didn't press further. He simply adjusted his cuff and shifted his focus to the Quinn family. "Your father's life has been preserved, but this doesn't change anything else. The decisions I made earlier still stand."
Chairman Quinn stiffened slightly. "Chairman Hale, about that…"
Victor raised a hand, cutting him off before he could continue. "We'll discuss it properly. Since the engagement is no longer appropriate, we should settle the remaining matters cleanly."
Sophia's head snapped up. "Wait—what do you mean 'no longer appropriate'?"
Victor looked at her calmly. "If you're dissatisfied with my son, then there is no reason to maintain the engagement. Ending it now is the simplest solution for both sides."
From nearby, his son reacted immediately. "Dad, that's not necessary. I can fix this. I'll talk to her—"
Victor turned his head slightly, his gaze enough to silence him mid-sentence. "You've said enough already."
The quiet authority in his voice left no room for argument.
Sophia stood still, trying to process what was happening. "You're… ending it just like that?"
"You've made your position clear," Victor replied. "I'm simply responding accordingly."
Before she could say anything else, several lawyers entered the hall, their movements efficient and precise as they placed documents on the table in front of Chairman Quinn.
Victor gestured lightly toward them. "Since we're concluding the relationship, it's best to resolve the financial and contractual aspects as well."
Chairman Quinn looked down at the documents, his throat tightening. "Chairman Hale… what exactly are you asking for?"
Victor met his gaze evenly. "Nothing unreasonable," he said. "Only what is owed."