The young man was Samuel Warner, Emil Warner’s grandson and a young master of the Warner Family from Kingsford.
A dark glint flashed in Samuel Warner’s eyes. He put on a stern face and chided, "Didn’t you hear Grandpa say we can’t touch this person? Use your head and stay out of trouble!"
David Lawson could only suppress his impulse.
’The Trent Family is getting off easy!’ he thought.
Ten minutes later, a dozen or so cars followed the ambulance, arriving at the Warner Clan’s pharmaceutical research center.
Several pharmaceutical researchers in white lab coats hurried over, pushing a gurney.
A researcher tried to lift the white sheet, but Beta Morgan grabbed his hand. "Don’t touch him. He’s covered in poison. Let’s get him inside first."
The Morgans ford a protective circle around the gurney, their stance preventing anyone from approaching.
When Lord Warner, Emil Warner, saw the Morgans and the people from The Martial Affairs Bureau push the gurney directly into the surgical area, his expression darkened. In an unfriendly tone, he asked, "What’s this? Do you not trust our Warner Family?"
Beta Morgan, who often dealt with him, stepped forward with a cheerful smile. "Lord Warner, you misunderstand. Of course we trust you, but this man’s identity is sensitive. We must personally witness his recovery..."
Emil Warner paused, his eyes narrowing as he studied Beta Morgan for a mont. He shot him a look of disapproval. "Only three of you may enter!" Then, he turned and walked into the operating room.
A mont later, he was surprised to see Beta Morgan walk in with two girls.
One girl was tall, the other short. One was expressionless, while the other had a perpetual smile.
"This is absurd!" Emil Warner glared at him again. Beta Morgan just smiled cheerfully. "Lord Warner, please begin. We’ll just watch from the side."
Emil Warner suppressed his fury and instructed his students and assistants to begin the procedure.
As a practitioner of traditional Veridian dicine, Lord Warner’s thods were quite conventional. Leigh Miles watched from the side, fascinated.
Suddenly, Leigh Miles pointed in a certain direction and shouted, "Senior Sister, those two—"
Just then, a figure shot forward, grabbing two people by their clothes and yanking them back.
One of them, caught completely off guard, fell right to the floor. The other, however, deflected Aurora Sinclair’s force with a backhanded push.
This man knew martial arts. Pinching a silver needle between his fingers, he lunged toward Norman Trent again.
This ti, Aurora Sinclair seized his wrist. A vicious glint flashed in the man’s eyes as his other hand snatched up a silver needle and lunged at her.
He was quite strong, at the level of a Sixth Rank Great Martial Master, though he hadn’t yet developed his Power.
But he never imagined that the girl before him could shatter his wrist with a single move.
"AAARGH—" The man let out a wretched scream.
Aurora Sinclair brought the side of her hand down on his neck. The man’s eyes rolled back into his head, and he collapsed, unconscious.
Everything happened so fast that no one in the operating room could intervene. Emil Warner’s face changed drastically. "What are you doing?" he roared.
Samuel Warner lunged, but Aurora Sinclair effortlessly deflected him, sending him stumbling back. He slamd hard into the wall, clutching his shoulder and grimacing in pain.
"You..."
"Lord Warner, I believe that’s my question for you," Beta Morgan said, stepping forward with a smile. He bent down to check the breathing of the man on the floor. "Why did this man try to harm Norman Trent?"
"What is the aning of this?" Emil Warner demanded, his expression dark as he glared at Beta Morgan.
’If I don’t get an explanation today, I’m going to the Morgan Family estate to demand one from Cassius Morgan.’
"Now, don’t be angry..."
Beta Morgan tried to placate him, then turned to Leigh Miles. Leigh pointed to the first man who had fallen. "He didn’t want to cure him." Then she pointed to the one who was now unconscious. "He wanted to kill him."
Emil Warner erupted in fury. "You insolent brat! Spouting whatever falsehoods co to mind! That’s utter nonsense!"
"Oh, but she’s not," Beta Morgan replied cheerily.
Emil Warner’s face was as black as the bottom of a pot. He flung the silver needles from his hand and made to leave.
Beta Morgan quickly blocked his path, pulling a sheet of rice paper from his pocket. He offered it to him, saying pointedly, "Lord Warner, perhaps you should look at this. I’m sure you’ll find it convincing."
Emil Warner, his face still stern, snatched the rice paper and began to read it angrily. In less than a second, his eyes flew wide. "This... This is..."
His fingers clutched the paper. He looked up at Beta Morgan in utter disbelief, his lips trembling as if from a great shock. It took him a long mont to regain his composure. "This... The Warner Family will give you an explanation... I only ask that..."
Beta Morgan cut him off with a smile. "My master said this is all a small matter, but he does require a small favor from you, Lord Warner..."
Two hours later, an exhausted Emil Warner erged from the surgical area and announced to everyone outside, "The patient was too deeply poisoned. There was nothing more we could do."
The mbers of The Martial Affairs Bureau were shocked and imdiately stepped forward. "Man Warner," one asked in disbelief, "is he really dead?"
"If you don’t believe , you can see for yourselves—"
The mbers of The Martial Affairs Bureau imdiately ran toward the surgical area. Ten minutes later, they walked out, crestfallen.
"Lord Warner, Young Lord Morgan, we’re returning to headquarters to report."
***
The sky had brightened by the ti they left the Warner estate. Alvin Morgan personally saw the three siblings back to their small apartnt.
The mont the door opened, an unfamiliar male voice sounded from inside: "Welco ho, my dearest master!"
Alvin Morgan froze, and a look of unease flashed in his eyes.
Following behind them, Dean Morgan almost dropped the armful of beach souvenirs he was carrying.
He stared, wide-eyed, at the figure ahead of him.
’Is that the Young Master’s voice?’
Leigh Miles, who had opened the door, replied cheerfully, "Ditto Miles, long ti no see! Did you miss us?"
"I missed Master, Junior Sister, and Little Junior Brother."
"Such a good boy—"
Leigh Miles patted Ditto Miles on the head and walked inside, smiling.
Alvin Morgan, still at the doorway, coughed twice. "Ditto Miles," he called out, his voice strained.
"Yes, Guest. How may I assist you?"
"Reset voice!"
"I’m sorry, you do not have the required permissions."
"PFFT—" Leigh couldn’t hold back a laugh, clapping a hand over her mouth as she ran for the bathroom.
Aurora Sinclair glanced at Alvin Morgan, then said to the device, "Ditto Miles, enter sleep mode—"
"Yes, my dearest master!"
***
The Head of the Guthrie Family had been keeping the old Morgan estate under surveillance. As soon as he learned the Morgans had returned, he imdiately brought people over for a visit.
"That Reina Guthrie never lifts a finger unless there’s sothing in it for her. You must protect little Aurora. She’s our future granddaughter-in-law..." Susan Warner said after hearing Flynn Morgan’s report, glancing at Cassius Morgan, who was sipping his tea beside her.
Cassius Morgan gave her a reassuring look.
Soon, Reina Guthrie walked into the living room, accompanied by Zane Guthrie.
"Mr. Morgan, Mrs. Morgan, you’ve finally returned. I acquired this painting from abroad and was hoping you might take a look at it for ."
Reina Guthrie placed a rectangular box on the coffee table. The excited look on her face suggested she hadn’t co for Aurora Sinclair at all.
Cassius Morgan glanced at Susan Warner, then leaned forward and opened the box.
Inside was a sowhat damaged scroll. The rolled-up silk painting within appeared to have been about a third of the way burned through.
Cassius Morgan’s expression grew taut. "Flynn Morgan..."
Flynn Morgan imdiately turned and went to the study, returning a mont later with a wooden box.
The box contained gloves, a magnifying glass, and various traditional tools for authenticating paintings.
After putting on the gloves, Cassius Morgan took out the ancient painting and carefully unrolled it...
It was a partially burned ancient illustration. There was no landscape, only small figures depicted in various poses.
"This is..."
Cassius Morgan was stunned into a long silence.
A sharp glint flashed in Reina Guthrie’s eyes. She announced cheerfully, "The Ancient Martial Inheritance Map."
"Where did you get this?"
"An auction house in Crestland!" Reina Guthrie said, smiling at Cassius Morgan. "Mr. Morgan, if this ancient painting were restored, would Veridia still need to worry about its lack of Martial Kings?"
Cassius Morgan hesitated. Susan Warner coughed several tis.
Reina Guthrie let out a soft sigh. "That matriarch of my family up on the mountain doesn’t take on disciples easily. The reason she accepted her is likely because she values her talent in this particular area. I’m sure you’ve also seen the two paintings she made, Mr. Morgan. Soone with such keen observational skills... she’s exactly the kind of expert in ancient painting restoration we’ve been searching for!"
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