Capital City, in the basent of a small villa.
The basent is only ten square ters, with lighting provided by a single oil lamp, making it look both cramped and dim, with a very oppressive and heavy atmosphere.
In such a cramped space, there are eleven people standing!
Among them, ten are wearing yellow masks, draped in knee-length black robes, with a test tube filled with yellow liquid hanging from their chests.
The other one stands in front of the ten, also in a knee-length black robe, but his mask... is green!
The test tube hanging from his chest is also filled with a green liquid.
"Boss, are we really going to let that kid go?"
"We lost two brothers to him, letting him go like this is too easy on him, right?"
"Just letting it go like this, our squad will lose face completely!"
Among the ten, there are frequent murmurs, filled with resentnt and dissatisfaction.
"Do you think I don’t want to retaliate against Ye Huan? But there’s nothing I can do, the order to return to the West was personally given to by Number Seven."
The green mask man, Billson, also had resentnt and dissatisfaction in his voice.
The squad he led was the first in the organization not only to lose two mbers but also have no progress in their mission!
Upon returning to the organization, the entire squad, including Billson, would beco a laughingstock among other squads, possibly even facing severe punishnt from superiors.
The yellow mask n also knew this, their faces growing uglier beneath the masks.
They desperately wanted to stay in Huaxia, waiting to take revenge against Ye Huan, to wash away the humiliation!
But the order from "Number Seven," how could they dare not comply?
Everyone sighed in frustration, their fists slashing the air a few tis.
Once the crowd quieted down, Billson continued:
"The reason Number Seven ordered us to return to the West is, after hearing my report, he determined that none of our squad mbers could match Ye Huan."
"Seeking revenge against Ye Huan would only be futile and suicidal."
"Number Seven suspects..."
Saying this, the expression on Billson’s face behind the mask beca serious, "Ye Huan likely is the God of Slaughter!"
These words shocked everyone present.
God of Slaughter!?
The yellow mask n all fell into deep thought.
The two assassins sent by the squad earlier had strength levels around the 45th position on the Celestial God Rankings after ingesting the potion.
But in Ye Huan’s hands, they couldn’t withstand even a few moves!
Completely crushed!
This was enough to show that Ye Huan’s strength far exceeded the 45th position on the Celestial God Rankings.
And the God of Slaughter with Celestial God Level strength could easily crush soone ranked 45th on the Celestial God Rankings.
Moreover, on the official forum of the Dark World, there is a piece of news almost everyone knows!
The God of Slaughter is lurking in Huaxia!
Connecting these clues makes it hard not to suspect that Ye Huan is the God of Slaughter!
"But," at this mont, Billson spoke, adding, "Number Seven is just guessing and hasn’t made a definitive conclusion. No matter what, Ye Huan’s strength far surpasses yours, and if he truly is the God of Slaughter, his strength even surpasses mine. Therefore, we cannot independently launch a revenge action against Ye Huan."
"..."
The masked n all fell silent.
They knew the gravity of the situation and suppressed the regret and resentnt in their hearts, but still felt incredibly unwilling.
Unwilling to the extre.
"However..." Billson suddenly shifted his tone, a fierce gleam flashing in his eyes behind the mask, "We might not retaliate, but we won’t let him have it easy, he must be taught a lesson!"
Saying this, he looked at the yellow mask man on the far left of the squad, speaking solemnly: "Lin Xie, you stay in Huaxia, Number Seven has a task for , I’ll lead the team away, and the task will be your responsibility."
Lin Xie’s brows furrowed, asking, "Boss, what is the task?"
"Probe whether Ye Huan is the God of Slaughter, and..."
Billson removed the green potion from his chest and placed it in Lin Xie’s hand.
Then, he whispered in his ear for ten minutes.
Lin Xie nodded earnestly throughout, finally patting his chest twice firmly, "Captain, rest assured, I will complete the task!"
...
First People’s Hospital of the Capital, ICU ward area.
Though the phone call said to head to the hospital first, Ye Huan chose to take Tang Yao back to Golden Shore before driving to the hospital.
By the ti he arrived, Su Qingqing and her group were already there.
In the ICU ward, a disheveled, obese, sloppy old man, surrounded by the deputy dean and nurous chief physicians of the hospital, was examining Su Zhiqiang’s condition.
Ye Huan kept his eyes fixed on the old man, feeling sothing was off.
"Sigh," aside, Song Yanhong continuously sighed, her face full of worry.
"Mom, don’t worry."
"An Lei is not only the deputy dean of Harvard dical School but also a distinguished figure in the global neurology field. In the world, he’s considered the second in treating vegetative patients, no one dares claim first."
"He is undoubtedly the divine doctor, with his intervention, Zhiqiang will surely recover."
Huang Yan patted Song Yanhong’s back, earnestly comforting her.
"Let’s hope so."
On hearing this, Song Yanhong did not feel relieved; instead, she beca even more worried.
If even An Lei, the top figure in treating vegetative patients, couldn’t handle Su Zhiqiang’s condition, then there was truly no hope for Su Zhiqiang’s recovery.
"Ye Huan, perhaps you should also go in and review my brother’s situation with Doctor An Lei?" Su Qingqing suggested from the side, which was also why she brought Ye Huan over.
She knew how strong Ye Huan’s dical skills were.
Even the renowned divine doctor of Tianhai City Hospital of Traditional Chinese dicine, Zhang Song, was Ye Huan’s disciple.
Ye Huan shook his head, "Not for now, there are already a lot of people inside, adding might have the opposite effect."
Su Qingqing found this reasonable, nodded, "Then wait for the deputy dean and others to leave, and then you can discuss with Doctor An Lei."
"Okay."
Ye Huan agreed.
In truth, he was just there to make an appearance.
Su Zhiqiang’s injuries were too severe, not to ntion there was no reason for Huan-ge to intervene.
Even if he wanted to, his hands were tied.
He continued to fix his eyes on "An Lei," his brows tightly knit, still feeling sothing was very off.
Yet, he couldn’t figure out why he felt sothing was wrong.
A quarter of an hour later, An Lei in the ward turned around.
Ye Huan realized why he felt sothing was off.
The "An Lei" before him looked almost identical to the An Lei he rembered, but...
When he used to guide An Lei, he found An Lei clumsy and often poked An Lei’s forehead with a pen tip.
Over ti, a dark spot appeared on An Lei’s forehead.
This "An Lei’s" forehead was perfectly clean.
An impostor!
Ye Huan finally understood why, last night in the hospital, Huang Yan’s eyes showed a conspiratorial gleam; she must have been plotting and scheming sothing.
"Click—"
The ICU ward door opened in response.
"An Lei" and the deputy dean with a peculiar expression, along with those chief physicians, walked out.
Song Yanhong hurried forward, anxiously inquiring, "Doctor An Lei, about my son..."
"Don’t worry."
"I have examined your son’s condition."
"It’s severe, yet not severe."
"It’s still within the treatable range, please give so ti, thank you."
"An Lei" said with a calm expression.
Song Yanhong felt as if a huge burden was lifted, letting out a massive sigh of relief, gratefully holding "An Lei’s" hand.
Just as she was about to express her gratitude to "An Lei,"...
"Conning all the way here, have you?"
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