Soul Resurrection Needle

"Miracle Doctor, please take me as your apprentice!"

The loud, echoing thud of Dr. Jonathan Westcott’s knees hitting the carpeted floor shattered the heavy silence in the suite. He clasped his trembling hands together, begging loudly as his voice cracked with pure, unadulterated reverence. Bending forward, the highly respected doctor bowed deeply, touching his forehead directly to the floor in front of Julian.

Julian didn't move. He remained slumped against the hard wall, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. His internal energy was entirely spent from the grueling exertion of driving eighty-one needles into a dying man. He just stared at the older man, momentarily too exhausted to even process the absurdity of the situation.

A few feet away, Jolene stood completely frozen. Her wide, frantic eyes darted between the prostrating doctor and the pale, sweating young man on the floor. She stared at the bizarre spectacle in utter bewilderment.

"Dr. Westcott, what are you doing?" she demanded, quickly pointing a shaking finger toward the center of the room. "Despite all that elaborate needlework, my dad is still lying completely unconscious on the ground. Why are you celebrating prematurely?"

Hearing her doubt, Jonathan immediately lifted his head. His face was flushed with eager, almost manic excitement. "Ms. Sterling, you don't understand the impossible feat we just witnessed!" he rapidly explained, his words tumbling out in a passionate rush. "He flawlessly performed a legendary, highly secretive, and long-lost ancient technique. It's known exclusively in the oldest medical texts as the Soul Resurrection Needle—a mythical method strictly reputed to be capable of literally pulling the dead back from the gates of hell! Mr. Sterling is going to live!"

Jolene's jaw dropped. She gaped at Julian, her previous skepticism violently clashing with the staggering reality that the deputy president of the entire Harrington Medical Guild was currently prostrating himself like a desperate beggar before this exhausted young man.

Just as Dr. Westcott opened his mouth to continue his desperate pleading, a sudden, wet fit of coughing violently broke the heavy tension in the room.

William’s chest heaved dramatically. His eyes snapped open, and he violently sucked in deep, greedy gulps of air, sounding like a man who had just broken the surface of an icy lake.

"Dad!" Jolene screamed. The sound tore from her throat as she instantly rushed forward, desperate to embrace her father and pull him into her arms.

However, Julian moved faster. Despite his overwhelming exhaustion, he swiftly reached out and gently, yet firmly, held her back by her arms, halting her entirely.

"Do not touch him," Julian calmly warned Ms. Sterling, his voice steady despite his ragged breathing. "The patient is absolutely not supposed to move an inch yet. Any sudden shift right now could lethally disrupt the flow of energy keeping his organs alive. You must wait patiently for me to safely remove the deep-seated needles."

As Julian firmly gripped her slender, trembling hands to halt her forward momentum, a sudden, jolting wave of electric warmth passed intimately between their palms. It was a sharp, grounding sensation that instantly anchored them both in the chaotic room. A deep crimson blush instantly stained Jolene's cheeks. Every ounce of her earlier hostility and doubt was completely forgotten. She looked deeply into his dark, tired eyes, her lips parting as she softly murmured her profound, heartfelt thanks. "This is all thanks to you."

Realizing the intense intimacy of the moment, Julian frantically released her hand. He took a quick step back, deliberately clearing his throat to collect his scattered composure.

Pushing himself off the wall, Julian stood up. He raised his right palm toward William’s prone, needle-covered body. With a mere, casual wave of his hand, a powerful, unseen force swept over the billionaire. Like a magnet pulling iron dust, he magnetically drew all eighty-one silver needles straight out of the flesh. They flew through the air and back into his awaiting palm in a single, blinding flash of silver light.

"It's done," Julian announced, seamlessly handing the bundle of gleaming silver back to a dumbfounded Jonathan.

With all traces of her previous doubts permanently erased by her father's miraculous revival, Jolene hurried forward. Tears streamed down her face as she gently helped William into a seated position on the floor.

"Dad, how do you feel?" she asked, her voice choked with thick emotion.

William blinked, looking at his own hands. "I feel... good. Honestly, I feel completely fine." He let out a weak but genuine smile before his gaze drifted to the side. Seeing Jonathan still kneeling submissively on the carpet, William frowned in deep confusion. "What's going on here?"

Taking a shaky breath, Jolene breathlessly recounted the entire, terrifying ordeal. She told him exactly how Julian had saved him from the absolute brink of death, explaining the horrifying risks and pointing out that his miraculous technique had left the renowned medical guild deputy currently begging on his knees.

William listened in pure, unadulterated astoundment. He turned his head to look at Julian, his expression hardening into one of absolute resolve. Overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of his debt, the billionaire spoke with unquestionable authority.

"Young man, you have now saved my life twice in a single day," William firmly declared, his voice echoing with absolute sincerity. "From this moment forward, you are officially a supreme benefactor of the entire Sterling Family. I swear to you right now, I will readily and aggressively fulfill absolutely any request you could ever dream of."

Julian offered a cordial, polite smile in response to the grand declaration. "You're being too kind, Mr. Sterling. I merely did what I had to do."

Then, abruptly, Julian shifted his tone into one of grave seriousness. The polite warmth vanished from his eyes, replaced by a cold, clinical reality.

"However," Julian explicitly warned, staring directly at the CEO, "you shouldn't celebrate just yet. Although the Soul Resurrection Needle was highly effective, it was merely a temporary, forceful fix to stabilize your failing organs. It bought you time, nothing more." He paused, letting the heavy silence stretch before he bluntly stated, "You will still unequivocally die within a maximum of three months if the deeply rooted, underlying ailment isn’t permanently treated."

The words hit the room like a physical blow. Terrified of his impending doom, the wealthiest and most powerful man in Harrington completely ignored his immense status. William scrambled forward and dropped directly to his knees right beside the still-bowing doctor.

"Please, sir!" William desperately pleaded, looking up at Julian with raw, unfiltered fear. "I am entirely willing to sign over absolutely everything I own! Take my vast corporate empire, take all my personal assets—take it all! Just please, I beg of you, agree to save my life!"

Julian looked down at the pleading billionaire and swiftly, flatly declined the staggering offer of William's vast assets. He was entirely uninterested in corporate wealth; billions of dollars meant nothing to a man walking his path.

"Keep your empire, Mr. Sterling. I don't need your money," Julian replied calmly. Instead, he turned to Jolene. "Just bring me a simple pen and paper."

Trembling, Jolene quickly fetched a notepad and a high-end fountain pen from her father's desk. Julian took them and immediately began to write. He quickly jotted down a highly specific list of incredibly rare, prohibitively expensive spiritual herbs. These were items he knew he could never afford on his own in his current, impoverished state, but for the immensely wealthy Sterling family, it might just be possible.

Handing the finished list over to Jolene, Julian clarified his demands. "While most of the herbs on this list are strictly for concocting your father's permanent cure, a few specific items are desperately needed for my mother." His voice softened slightly as he explained, "She has recently lost her sight. I need these to fix it."

As Jolene took the long, complicated list, her eyes scanned the impossible demands. Julian watched her carefully, remaining inwardly highly cautious about two very specific, bizarre items he absolutely required to successfully cure Anna's blindness.

The list explicitly demanded a calligraphy brush deeply imbued with spiritual energy, specifically one that had been used for decades by a famous ancient scholar. Alternatively, he had noted it could be made from the fur of a genuinely spiritual animal. Alongside that impossible brush, he strictly required a cinnabar rosary meticulously carved from an ancient, energy-rich tree.

He had included them on the list purely out of desperate hope. Internally, Julian was highly pessimistic that even the Sterling family could easily procure them. He knew full well that obtaining such mythical treasures required far more than just throwing money at the problem; it demanded immense luck, unbelievable timing, and a deeply discerning eye capable of recognizing true spiritual energy when standing right in front of it. Without those two specific items, his mother's eyes would remain locked in darkness forever.

He let out a quiet breath as Jolene stared at the paper, leaving the impossible burden squarely in their hands.