The True Mistress Has A Thousand Hidden Identities

Paul was sent to the operating room.

Bill leaned against the wall of the corridor. As if being drawn out of energy, his body slowly slid down and fell to the cold ground.

He tremblingly raised his blood-stained hand, clutching his hair hard. His clothes were soaked in blood, and his neckline was torn apart. He looked like an absolute mess.

Angus escaped from the melee and rushed to the hospital.

Bill raised his head and looked at him, his eyes shining fiercely. “Didn’t I ask you to have someone look after him?!”

Angus said in a low voice, “Sorry, my negligence.”

Soon, the doctor came out of the operating room.

Bill struggled to stand up with difficulty, his feet soft.

“There is no fatal injury. The bullet has been taken out, but… the bullet was poisoned, and the poison has seeped into his blood.”

Bill frowned, breathing quickly, and his voice was hoarse. “What kind of poison? How to detoxify it?”

The doctor shook his head. “We haven’t come into contact with this kind of poison before. We need to study it before we can give you an answer.”

Bill’s thin lips paled, and his pupils were shaking with intense anxiety.

He walked into the ward with a heavy step. Paul hadn’t woken up yet. His small face was bloodless, his breathing was extremely weak, and his thin body looked extremely fragile at this moment as if it would shatter with a touch.

Bill sat by the bed, burying his head into his hands, his chest heaving hard. He wanted to vent but didn’t want to bother Paul with the noise, so he gritted his teeth and whispered. “Idiot, who needs you to block the bullet!”

In the evening, Paul woke up. He was still on a ventilator, but his dilated pupils began to slowly focus like glass beads immersed in water.

Seeing Bill next to him safe and sound, he seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, his pale lips trembling slightly.

“Master… am I going to die…”

He was not afraid of death, but he was afraid that he would not be able to accompany his master anymore.

Bill looked at him with a slight chill in his eyes. “No, there is no fatal injury. You will soon be healed.”

Master became so alienated…

Paul clutched the sheets feebly with his hands, feeling aggrieved and flustered.

At this time, a doctor walked to the door.

“Mr. Carter.”

Bill understood what he meant and turned to leave the ward.

The doctor handed the research report to Bill. “The results are out. This poison should have been artificially developed. The poisoned person will bleed from the seven orifices and die within ten days. We can develop an antidote, but the shortest time it will take is one month. Mr. Shaw can’t last for so long, and… also, it’s not for sure that we can develop it successfully.”

Bill clutched the research report tightly, his face terrifyingly cold and grim under the dim light.

The doctor dared not say anything more and left silently.

Bill crumpled the report into a ball, and suddenly light footsteps sounded in the empty and bleak corridor.

Bill turned his head, only to see a beautiful girl walking over casually.

Standing in front of Bill, Claire gave a wicked smile. “I can help you get the antidote.”

“How do you know about this?” Bill’s sharp gaze swept across Claire up and down, his eyes alert. “What is your identity?!”

Claire didn’t answer but asked instead. “Do you need the antidote?”

Bill’s hand was clenched into a fist. After a moment of silence, he squeezed out two words from his mouth. “Yes.”

Very good.

Claire smiled. “But you have to give me something in exchange for this.”

“What is it?”

Claire still didn’t answer but stretched out her hand to Bill. “Give me the report. I’ll tell you when I get the antidote.”

Bill was still on guard, but he had no choice but to pass the report to Claire.