The room’s main screen shifted instantly to holographic mode, projecting the Shea family’s extensive dossier. Their lineage. stretched back five centuries, with ancestors serving as royal advisors, effectively ruling from the shadows.

Current intel showed they’d summoned top physicians to Hirica’s Orion Tower, screening them to btreat /bfamily patriarch Andrew Shea. His prognosis bwas /bmedically beyond salvation, though.

The game just gotpelling. Olivia settled back, one leg casually draped over the other. “Tell them I’m in.”

“Perfect. I’ll have them wire the money.”

“Payment uponpletion,” Olivia interrupted. “You know my terms.”

Money bwas /bOlivia’s primary motivator, but impossible medical cases ran a close second. The more hopeless, the better. This Shea situation bwas /bjust textbook perfect.

Here she was, the legendary Phantom Healer. Ironically, she might be the only physician who didn’t care about the Shea name. For families like the Sherman family, merely receiving an invitation would require calling in every favor they had.

Overnight, Hirica buzzed with activity. First, Kingtonelle’s elite were searching for a lost heiress. Then the Shea family’s medical summons. Whispers spread that they’de specifically because the Phantom Healer operated here.

The city’s rumors about the mysterious doctor varied wildly. Some imed he was a middle–aged man named Frank, while others swore he was a century–old spirit. And with the Shea family involved, the elusive healer might finally show their face.

The next morning, Olivia got up early, sshed some water on her face, and decided to skip driving to avoid the morning rush. Instead, she grabbed her scooter at the gate and took off at a leisurely pace.

“Olivia, you’re up early today,” someone called out.

She grinned. “Gotta make a living, don’t I?”

An hourter, she arrived iat /iOrion Tower, one of Hirica’s most famousndmarks. The lobby was buzzing with activity, and the entrance was packed.

It looked like every big shot in the city had shown up. Among the rows of luxury cars, Olivia’s scooter stuck out like a sore thumb.

The guards here judged by the ride, not the rider. Before she could even park, one of the guards waved her off. “Hey, you! This isn’t some public park. Get lost. Private event today.”

Olivia gave him a cool nce. “I’m here to heal that Shea guy.”

The guard scoffed andughed, “Yeah, right. How old are you? You don’t even look like you’ve got a medical license.”

She smirked, pulling out her phone to send a quick voice message to her team. “Tell them the Phantom Healer’s here. Someone bettere get me.”

The guard smacked the phone out of her hand. “Phantom Healer? Pull the other one. Got an invitation? No? Then stop wasting my timei.” /i

He jerked his chin toward a nearby luxury car. “Now that’s a real VIP. Bet you’ve never even seen a car like that.” With a sycophantic grin, he rushed to open the door.

b8:49 /bbpm /bD

DE

55 vouchers

Inside the car bsat /bCheryl, the long–lost Sherman heiressb, /barm–in–arm with an elderly man.

“Mr. Evans, Ms. Sherman, everything’s prepared inside,” the guard gushed.

The two barely acknowledged him with a nod.

Through the window, Cheryl caught sight of Olivia. Her pale bface /bflickered with confusion. ‘What’s she doing here? she wondered.

The old man beside her noticed her hesitation. “Something wrong, Cheryl?”

She forced a smile. “Nothing, Henry. Just… first time at an event like this. I’ll follow you and pay attention.”

The old man, Henry Evans, gave an approving smile.

Meanwhile, Olivia didn’t argue. She just swung her leg over her scooter and kicked off. A good physician knew when to walk away: some souls called for healing, while others reeked of nothing but transactional greed.

This wasn’t a house call anymore; this was a waste of her stethoscope. Her phone bwas /balready in hand, thumb poised to swipe the appointment into oblivion.

Then a sharp scream cut through the air. “Oh my God! What happened?”

Near the luxury car, a crowd was gathering fast.

“Whose kid is this? Just running around like that?”

“Is she dead?b” /b

Olivia’s instincts kicked in. Without thinking, she pushed forward.

A little girl, no older than five,y crumpled on the pavement. Her face was twisted in pain, her forehead slick with sweat.

Today was the Shea family’s private medical consultation, so there were plenty of doctors around. One bystander grabbed the arm of a woman in a white coat. “Hey, you’re a doctor, right? Help her, please.”

The woman yanked her arm back, scowling. “I can’t just treat her without family consent. What if something goes wrong? I’m not risking my license for some random kid. Besides, she’ll probably wake up on her own. I have real patients waiting.”

Olivia’s jaw tightened. “A doctor who picks and chooses who to save doesn’t deserve the title.” She dropped to her knees beside the girl, her voice cutting through the noise. “Everyone, back up. She needs air.”

Something in her tone made the crowd listen instantly, shuffling backward.

Olivia touched the girl’s forehead, and then checked her pulse.

The offended woman sneered, “Who the hell are you? Some self–proimed child genius? You’re not even qualified to question me.”

Panicked murmurs rose around them.

“Yeah, just call an ambnce. You don’t have to do anything. If this kid dies, it’s on you.”

“I saw the whole thing. She’s got no parents around. She must’ve wandered off.”

“Listen, girl, you’d better not make it worse, or her family’ll sue you into oblivion.”

b8:49 /bpm

Olivia ignored them. She sliced open the girl’s vest and quickly carried her to the shade of a nearby tree.

The woman watched with a sneer. “You even got a medical license? You’re gonna kill her.”

12 55 vouchersb) /b

Olivia barely nced up, a faint smirk on her lips. This was the first so–called professional dumb enough to question her skills. “Rx. If she dies, it bwas /bon me.”

Her hands moved swiftly as she unzipped her medical kit. The rows of needles were meticulously arranged. She checked the girl’s pulse again, prepping for acupuncture.

“Stop,” the woman barked. “You can’t just stab needles into someone like that.”

Olivia didn’t even flinch. The needles were in as she checked the girl’s pulse again.

The woman sneered, “I’m Natalie Evans, a grad student at Kingtonelle Medical University. My uncle is Henry Evans, the top surgeon in Hirica. You think you can just y doctor with no license? Enjoy prison, fraud.”

Olivia stayed focused, her voice calm. “Who said I’m unlicensed?”

Hirica’s licensing exam tested both medical mastery and raw skill, and it was brutal. Natalie barely passed, and only because Henry pulled strings. So she scoffed, “How old are you? Eighteen? No way you’re certified. Just wait for the damn ambnce. Drop your act.”

Olivia didn’t look up. Looking all calm, she asked, her tone icy, “Wait? So she can die in the ‘golden hour‘? Some doctor you

are.”