The hospital director looked at Annabelle Linton and said excitedly, "Annabelle, we have a particularly difficult patient in the VIP ward on the top floor. A lot of our staff have already tried and failed miserably.
Right now, everyone in the hospital is at their wits’ end and terrified of waiting on the big shot upstairs. You’re experienced and capable, so I need you to step up. Can you please help handle him?
If you succeed, I’ll double your salary for the month! Oh, and speaking of which, didn’t you always want a cell sample of TPHK9201? The hospital’s shipnt just ca in. It’s incredibly rare. I’ll give it to you, how about that? Please, just go help !"
Annabelle Linton’s lips twitched. "Don’t tell the president is here."
"Let’s just say he’s even more difficult to handle—and harder to please—than the president."
’So people like that really do exist.’
Annabelle Linton gave the director a speechless look. She hated people who exaggerated. "Well, can you at least tell who he is?"
"Well..." A glint flashed in the director’s eyes. "You’ll find out when you get there, won’t you? There’s no point in asking so many questions, right? Go on now, hurry! I’ll be waiting for your good news. That’s all!"
With that, the director practically fled.
Annabelle Linton pressed her temples, a headache already forming. "Could you at least tell the room number and give the chart before you run off?"
Resigned, Annabelle changed out of her scrubs and into her white lab coat, then went to the front desk to get the patient’s chart.
Strangely, the chart listed no na. The diagnosis, however, read: ’Severe allergy caused by a skin irritant?’
’Hospitalized for an allergy? That’s just ridiculous.’
Annabelle Linton took the elevator upstairs. Arriving at the hospital room, she gave a courtesy knock before entering directly.
Uninterested in looking up at the "presidential-level" figure the director had ntioned, Annabelle Linton took out her pen. She began flipping through the chart, ready to take notes. "Congenital allergy to all foreign pungent odors, resulting in severely sensitive skin."
"Overexposure to an allergenic substance has resulted in symptoms including rashes, itching, and peeling skin. You’ve been on an IV for two days and have been given anti-allergy dication. How are you feeling now?"
The patient didn’t respond.
Patients ca in all shapes and sizes; Annabelle had seen it all and was no longer surprised by anything.
"If you’re showing signs of improvent, I’d recomnd recovering at ho. You’ll get better faster that way. There’s no need to stay in the hospital. I can draw up your discharge papers right now."
"Discharge? After what happened to , you want to just get discharged? Do you even know *where* I’m afflicted?!"
From the bed, an icy glare shot toward her. He stared at Annabelle Linton, his gaze venomous and enraged, his voice nearly a growl.
Annabelle Linton froze for a mont, then lifted her head.
The mont she raised her eyes, she saw Leona Grant’s murderous expression and...
Her gaze instinctively flickered downward...
And then...
"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA..."
Annabelle Linton howled with laughter!
Hearing Annabelle Linton’s mocking laughter, Leona Grant’s expression beca utterly thunderous. His eyes turning sinister, he raised his voice. "Shut up! You are not allowed to laugh!"
"Hahahahaha..." Annabelle Linton only laughed harder.
’This was so fucking hilarious!’
Leona Grant was dressed in silk pajamas, propped up against the headboard. A thin little blanket was draped over his lap, covering the crucial area.
"Hehe... hahahahaha..." Annabelle Linton was laughing so hard that tears stread down her face.
This was just too funny. In this life, or even her last one, she had never encountered anything so hilarious.
Leona Grant’s entire face went dark.
He held his breath, desperately suppressing the rage building in his chest. Closing his eyes, he ground out through gritted teeth, "Annabelle. Linton."
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