Earth Shattering

Clara Higgins stood frozen behind the polished marble of the nurses' station. The scattered peanut shells crunched under her pristine white nursing shoes as she shifted her weight. She stared at the young man standing amidst the stunned security guards. Did he just say he would reorganize Oakhaven General Hospital? In five minutes? A loud scoff escaped her throat, cutting through the tense silence of the corridor.

She crossed her arms over her chest, digging her manicured fingernails into the fabric of her uniform. The sheer audacity of his claim was laughable. This hospital had stood for decades. It possessed deep-rooted political ties, massive financial backing, and at least a hundred small-scale vaults filled to the brim with fortune. One ragged-looking man making a single phone call could not scratch the paint on these walls.

"You talk a big game," Clara sneered, her voice echoing down the hall.

Before she could spit out another insult, the landline phone on the counter shrieked. The piercing ring made her jump. She glared at the receiver, then snatched it up.

"Hello? Nurses' station," she snapped.

"Honey! Clara!"

It was her husband. He served as a chief physician at Oakhaven, a man who always maintained a calm, authoritative demeanor. Right now, his voice cracked with raw panic. He sounded breathless, gasping for air like a drowning man.

"Get home right now," he pleaded through the speaker. "Destroy the accounting reports. The secret ledgers. Throw them in the fireplace, shred them, I don't care! Just do it!"

Clara felt her stomach drop. Her grip tightened on the plastic receiver. "What? What are you talking about? I'm in the middle of a shift. We have a situation here..."

"It's too late!" her husband screamed. The sound of a heavy wooden door splintering echoed through the line. "They're already here! The authorities! Clara, they found the—"

A harsh click severed the connection. The line went dead, leaving only a hollow dial tone buzzing against Clara's ear.

"Hello? Honey?" Clara stabbed the redial button. "Answer the phone!"

Nothing but an automated voice telling her the phone was turned off.

A cold sweat broke out across her forehead. The other nurses in the station gathered around, their faces pale.

Vance pulled up a plastic visitor's chair. The legs scraped against the linoleum. He sat down gracefully, resting his elbow on the armrest. He raised his hand and began to flick the beads of his cheap wooden bracelet between his thumb and forefinger.

*Click. Click. Click.*

"The show has just begun," Vance murmured. His voice carried a lethal promise, low and steady.

Clara's personal cell phone buzzed in her pocket. She yanked it out. The caller ID showed her best friend, a high-ranking administrator in the hospital's executive wing.

Clara pressed the phone to her ear with trembling fingers. "Tell me what is happening."

"Clara, it's a nightmare!" her friend shrieked, sobbing hysterically. "The hospital director! He was arrested just a second ago! Heavily armed police kicked in the boardroom doors. They dragged him out in handcuffs!"

Clara's jaw dropped. The cell phone slipped a fraction of an inch from her ear. She slowly lowered the device. Baffled and deeply anxious, her gaze drifted away from the polished counters and settled on Vance. He sat there, calm and unbothered. He orchestrated this.

Heavy, hurried footsteps pounded against the tile floor at the far end of the corridor. The rhythmic slapping of dress shoes echoed louder and louder. Two senior doctors sprinted around the corner, nearly slipping on the slick surface. Their white coats flared out behind them.

Clara recognized them instantly. Dr. Cedric and Dr. Nolan. They were powerful figures in Oakhaven.

Cedric's face was flushed a deep, unhealthy purple. Sweat drenched his collar. Nolan looked even worse, his eyes wide with a frantic, hunted desperation.

They skidded to a halt in front of the nurses' station. They ignored Clara. They ignored the unconscious head guard. Their eyes locked onto Vance.

Without a second of hesitation, both men dropped to their knees. The impact of their kneecaps hitting the hard floor echoed sharply.

"Mr. Kensington!" Cedric cried out, his voice cracking. He clasped his hands together in a prayer-like gesture. "We know what we did was wrong. Please, I beg you, spare us!"

Clara pressed her back against the counter, her mind spinning. Cedric was a man in his fifties, an esteemed professional, yet he knelt before this young man, shaking like a leaf caught in a hurricane.

Minutes ago, Cedric had received a frantic, secret phone call from his uncle. His uncle had tipped him off, screaming through the phone that Cedric had profoundly offended a massive, untouchable titan sitting near the nurses' station. Cedric knew his own closet was full of skeletons. He had a long history of abominable corruption. He took bribes, embezzled hospital funds, arranged illegal fetal gender determinations, and manipulated internal board elections.

Beside him, Nolan let out a wretched sob. He bent forward and slammed his forehead against the floor.

*Thud.*

"Mr. Kensington! I was ignorant! I am so sorry for offending you!" Nolan wailed.

He raised his head and slammed it down again. *Thud.*

Nolan carried deep, unforgivable guilt. He engaged in gross misconduct with female patients, using his authority to trap them in isolated examination rooms. Having sexual intercourse with vulnerable patients was enough to guarantee severe punishment, let alone his extensive embezzlement.

"Please show mercy! I promise I will never make the same mistake again!" Nolan shouted, hitting the floor a third time.

A smear of dark red blood stained the pristine white tiles. A matching gash opened on Nolan's forehead, dripping crimson down the bridge of his nose. He did not stop. He kept bowing, leaving a bloody print with every strike.

Clara stared at Vance. Her breath came in shallow, ragged gasps. How could this be real? Why couldn't this man gather a mere six hundred thousand earlier if he possessed the power to make the hospital's elite bleed on the floor for him?

Vance stopped flicking his beads. He looked down at the two groveling doctors. His dark eyes swept over them like a judge delivering a death sentence.

"Calm down," Vance said, his tone flat and unyielding. "There's more yet to come."

Exactly one minute later, the steady march of leather shoes announced the arrival of the authorities. A squad of severe, suit-clad government investigators breached the room. Their faces were stony, their badges gleaming under the fluorescent lights.

They bypassed the trembling security guards and marched directly toward Clara.

The lead investigator, a tall man with a sharp jawline, held up a massive, seized account book. Its worn leather cover was unmistakable. Clara felt the blood drain from her face. It was the secret ledger she kept hidden in her home.

The investigator stepped right up to the counter, towering over Clara.

"Clara Higgins," he declared, his voice booming down the corridor. "Your husband is currently under active criminal investigation. We found this account book in your house. It records all your illicit cash flow. We have undeniable evidence that you manipulated the results of internal nurse elections over the years. We are taking you into custody."

Clara stared at the ledger. Her arrogant confidence, her pride, her sense of invincibility—all of it shattered into dust. Stripped of her strength, she slumped down to the floor, her knees buckling beneath her. Her back slid against the smooth cabinets of the desk. Her eyes looked spiritless.

Then, a sudden burst of desperate madness seized her. She threw herself forward, crawling across the cold tiles on her hands and knees. She reached out and grabbed Vance's pant leg, hugging it tight.

"Mr. Kensington!" she sobbed, tears and snot smearing across his trousers. "I am begging you! I know I was wrong! I am reflecting on myself! I really am! Please, just let me off this one time! I will never do it again!"

Vance looked down at her clinging hands. Sheer disgust flashed in his eyes. Without sparing a single second glance, he shifted his weight and kicked his leg forward.

The strike caught Clara in the shoulder, sending her sprawling backward across the floor. She rolled onto her side, coughing and crying.

At that exact moment, the main double doors of the ward swung open.

Hundreds of highly trained medical professionals marched through the corridors. They wore crisp white coats bearing the insignias of rival medical institutions. They moved with military precision, branching off into different departments.

A middle-aged woman with sharp, intelligent eyes walked briskly toward the station. Clara recognized her through her blurry, tear-filled vision. It was Rachel, the brilliant head nurse from the rival Blackwood Hospital.

Rachel did not spare Clara a look. She stopped in front of Vance, offered a respectful nod, and reported, "I will do my work as usual, sir."

Vance gave a slight nod.

The transition was flawless. The replacement staff slipped into their roles and seamlessly took over all medical duties. The execution was so perfect that the ordinary patients resting in the nearby wards remained asleep, completely unaware of the absolute, earth-shattering chaos occurring behind the scenes.

The investigators turned their attention to the bleeding doctors on the floor. Cedric and Nolan shared a look, seeing the pure terror mirrored in each other's eyes.

"Cedric. You are under arrest," the lead investigator said coldly.

"Nolan. You are under arrest."

Armed guards stepped forward. They grabbed Cedric by the arms, hauling him to his feet and snapping heavy steel handcuffs over his wrists. Nolan was dragged up by his collar, blood still dripping from his forehead onto his shirt. Devastated, both men offered no resistance as they were marched away down the hall.

A tall, muscular man in a dark suit walked into the corridor. He carried an air of absolute authority. He stopped in front of the nine remaining security guards who still stood frozen in fear.

"You are all fired," the man barked. "Leave the premises."

The guards scrambled to drop their batons and radios, fleeing the area. Within exactly five minutes, the hospital's corrupt hierarchy was brutally and systematically purged.

Clara sat on the floor, her mind a blank, buzzing void. She chuckled self-pitifully. She refused to accept this apocalyptic reality.

She dragged herself up to the counter, her fingers trembling as she grabbed the landline phone. She punched in a private number, a direct line to the hospital's ultimate political backer. The man who pulled the strings for the entire district. Mr. Shaw.

The phone rang twice.

"Hello? Mr. Shaw?" Clara gasped. "We have a massive problem. The authorities—"

A heavy, terrified sigh echoed through the speaker.

"I can't do anything," Mr. Shaw interrupted, his voice hollow. "You've got under the big gun's skin. They warned me to stay out of it, let alone lend you a hand."

The line clicked and went dead.

Clara stood frozen. Mr. Shaw had tremendous control over Oakhaven. It was no exaggeration to say he was the second most influential person in the district. And he was paralyzed by fear. Hearing that even Shaw abandoned them plunged the trio into a deep, bottomless despair. A thunderous explosion blared in Clara's mind, followed by a continuous, sickening ringing.

She turned her head slowly. She stared at the young man who was responsible for this annihilation.

"You demon," Clara whispered. She teetered on the verge of losing her sanity. Her eyes were wide, unblinking, filled with unadulterated terror. "Who are you? Who exactly are you?"

Vance stood up. The plastic chair scraped against the floor. He calmly reached up and adjusted the lapels of his jacket, smoothing out the wrinkles. He looked at Clara's broken, sobbing form.

"You'll never get to enjoy a peaceful life anymore," he declared coldly.

Without waiting for a response, Vance turned around and walked out of the ruined ward, his footsteps fading down the newly cleansed corridor.

Two hours later.

Preston Sterling sat behind the sprawling mahogany desk in his lavish office. The city skyline stretched out beyond his windows, but his attention was locked onto the flat-screen television mounted on the wall.

News of the massive, unprecedented purge dominated every single news channel in the city.

"Breaking News," the anchor announced, her face grave. "The director of Oakhaven General Hospital was arrested for corruption and the illegal construction of treasury vaults. Thirty-five chief doctors were detained for infringing medical ethics and committing horrendous deeds. The head nurse of the oncology department was apprehended for embezzlement and falsifying procurement expenses."

Preston felt a cold chill trace its way down his spine. He watched the screen in horror. Footage played of Cedric and Nolan being shoved into police cruisers.

The Sterling family possessed deep, lucrative ties to the hospital's pharmaceutical network. They held significant shares in Oakhaven Pharma. Preston knew the insider secrets. He knew the dirty money that flowed through those halls.

Panic gripped his chest. He snatched his cell phone from the desk and frantically dialed his father's number.

Reginald Sterling answered on the second ring.

"Dad, what is happening?" Preston demanded, his voice tight. "Why are they under arrest out of the blue? Even Clara and Nolan could not get out of it?"

"I contacted Mr. Shaw earlier," Reginald replied. His voice quavered violently through the speaker. "He said Oakhaven General Hospital offended a big shot. This person purged the wrongdoers in merely five minutes."

Preston froze. He gripped the edge of his desk. "Oakhaven has Mr. Shaw backing it up. Even he couldn't take care of the matter?"

"They warned Mr. Shaw prior to the raid," Reginald said, wiping the sweat from his brow. "He is in a crisis now. If he dared to interfere, he would only be digging his own early grave. The man responsible for this holds unimaginable power."

Preston drew in a sharp, painful breath. The air in his office suddenly felt thin.

Mr. Shaw was an untouchable giant. If a threat could make him cower and abandon his golden goose, the attacker had to be a monster.

Preston's mind raced. He connected the terrifying, swift nature of the purge to the events of the previous night. The timing. The sheer display of unlimited resources.

A face flashed in his mind. The mysterious, affluent big shot from the Celestial Private Room at the Opera House.

"It's him," Preston said, his heart surging with absolute dread. "It's the big shot in the Celestial Private Room! He made his move!"

Preston swallowed hard. His throat felt as dry as sand. The realization hit him like a physical blow. The master he feared possessed the ability to snap his fingers and erase an institution from the map. That is how powerful he truly is. He doesn't seem dangerous, but when he takes action, it is earth-shattering.

Preston remained completely unaware that the titan he feared was the very man he slapped the night before.

"Will it bring us trouble?" Preston asked, his knuckles turning white around the phone.

Reginald stayed silent for a long moment. "I don't know yet. We didn't commit the crimes directly, so I think we are safe at the moment."

"Are you sure?"

"Try to stay low temporarily," Reginald warned severely. "Do not draw attention to yourself. If you rubbed the man the wrong way, he can destroy our family easily."

Preston let out a shaky breath. He stared at the news footage still rolling on the screen, watching the ruins of an empire get carted away. Swallowing his immense pride, he gripped the receiver tight.

"I will!"