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Chapter 4 A Reward Of Ten Million

  • Afterward, Finnegan chatted with his parents about his experiences over the past five years, then found an excuse to leave the house.
  • No sooner had he stepped out the door than he made a phone call. He was determined to make Killian pay the price. “Send someone over to assist me and investigate the Chomsky family in Jadeborough, especially that scoundrel Killian.”
  • “Dr. Larkin, you're in Jadeborough? Then I will personally come to heed your call.”
  • “Cut the crap and just send someone competent over.”
  • “All right, all right.”
  • After hanging up the phone, Finnegan walked to the side of the road and hailed a taxi. He got in and said, “To General Hospital.”
  • To cure Desmond, some precious medicinal herbs were needed. He was uncertain whether the pharmacies in Jadeborough had them. If not, a trip to the Zimmerman residence would be necessary. After curing Bernice, he could ask the Zimmerman family to gather the herbs.
  • The pharmacy at General Hospital had just opened for the day. The customer turnout was sparse, and none had progressed to the point of getting their prescriptions dispensed. Inside the pharmacy, a lone clerk was stationed behind the counter, engrossed in his phone.
  • Upon seeing Finnegan enter, he merely glanced at him without uttering a word, then continued to entertain himself.
  • Finnegan approached the counter and said, “I'm here to get some medicinal herbs.”
  • Without even lifting his head, the clerk said, “Wait a moment. Can't you see I'm busy?”
  • Finnegan was momentarily speechless. Is playing games considered busy? He's disregarding his customers!
  • Just as Finnegan was about to lose his temper, he calmed himself down, reminding himself that he was, after all, the legendary mischievous doctor. It wasn't worth getting worked up over such trivial individuals.
  • He turned and began to walk away. Unexpectedly, his eyes caught sight of a notice affixed to the wall, proclaiming a reward of ten million.
  • Looking downward, he saw a written statement that read: I, Patrick Zimmerman, am the father of Bernice Zimmerman, who has been in a comatose state for a month. Despite consulting experts from numerous hospitals, her condition remains unchanged. I am currently offering a reward of ten million to any esteemed doctor who can cure her. Upon the successful treatment of my dear daughter Bernice, the reward of ten million will be promptly transferred.
  • It seemed that Patrick had no other option but to resort to posting such a notice in the hospital.
  • Finnegan glanced around, then reached out to take down the notice.
  • “Hey, what are you doing? Who said you could touch that?”
  • Upon seeing Finnegan's actions, the clerk immediately rushed out from behind the counter, pushing him aside.
  • Finnegan asked angrily, “What are you doing?”
  • The clerk retorted, “I posed that question first. Do you even know where you are? Do you think you can just scribble and doodle around here?”
  • Finnegan exclaimed, “Isn't this just a notice? Why can't I remove it?”
  • The clerk said with a look of disdain, “Are you driven mad by poverty? A reward of ten million is indeed impressive, but what does it have to do with you?”
  • After the notice had been put up, it had attracted a multitude of distinguished medical experts. Numerous individuals had been keen to attempt, but invariably, all of them had encountered failure.
  • The Zimmerman family was the wealthiest in Jadeborough. Saving Bernice would not only bring a reward of ten million but also the invaluable gratitude of the Zimmerman family.
  • Finnegan sneered, “Isn't this open to everyone? If it is, everyone should be allowed to try.”
  • The clerk said, “Everyone is indeed allowed to try, but it's not as if any Tom, Dick, or Harry can cure the disease. Do you think just anyone can claim that ten million?”
  • “What's all the fuss about?”
  • At that moment, an elderly man with an air of authority walked in from the outside.
  • Although his hair and beard were completely white, his complexion was rosy, and he exuded an aura of vitality. He was none other than Alexander Cooper, the director of General Hospital.
  • “Dr. Cooper, you're here.”
  • Upon seeing Alexander, the clerk immediately turned into a fawning sycophant.
  • “What happened? Who's causing such a commotion here?”
  • As Alexander spoke, he turned to Finnegan. Upon seeing the reward notice in his hand, he stood there with a stunned look on his face.
  • After regaining his composure, he asked anxiously, “Young man, can you really cure Ms. Zimmerman's illness?”
  • “There is no disease in this world that I can't cure,” Finnegan said nonchalantly.
  • Alexander furrowed his brows, finding Finnegan's arrogance a bit too excessive.
  • The clerk on the side retorted, “What nonsense are you spouting? Even a miracle doctor like Dr. Cooper finds Ms. Zimmerman's illness challenging. What makes you think there's a disease you can't cure?”
  • Knowing that they wouldn't believe him unless he demonstrated some of his abilities, Finnegan looked at Alexander and said, “You can't even cure the pulmonary hypertension that you've had for years, and yet you dare to call yourself a miracle doctor?”
  • At that moment, his aura experienced a dramatic shift, radiating an elusive sense of dominance.
  • Alexander's complexion changed. “How do you know I have pulmonary hypertension?” He had never before disclosed this to anyone.
  • “Come here, I can cure you!” Finnegan said, not in the mood for idle chatter.