Don't forget," Billie said calmly, her tone steady but heavy with warning, "the Branch Patriarch will be retiring very soon. And the three Deputy Patriarchs are already standing on the edge, competing for the next Patriarch position."
Her eyes were sharp as she continued, "This is a sensitive period. One wrong move from us will cost us everything. If that Sherlock dies now, the other two Deputy Patriarchs will gain the perfect excuse to attack Old Master."
She paused deliberately.
"And once that happens, no matter how clean Old Master's hands are, he will be dragged into the mud."
The room was silent.
Young Master Sirius clenched his fists.
Billie continued, her voice unhurried yet precise, "And there's another problem. Sherlock has already drawn too much attention. If he dies—no matter who kills him—the first suspect will always be us."
She looked straight at Young Master Sirius.
"You openly threatened him in the Administration Building. That alone is enough for others to connect the dots."
Young Master Sirius exhaled slowly.
"So what you're saying," he said, suppressing his frustration, "is that we can't kill him."
Billie nodded.
"And more than that," she added, "we must ensure he doesn't die."
Young Master Sirius laughed bitterly.
"So now I have to protect the person who humiliated me in public?"
Billie sighed softly.
"We don't have a choice," she said. "We're doing this for Old Master. Once Old Master ascends the Branch Patriarch throne, this entire city will be yours."
Her gaze softened slightly.
"What is one insignificant man compared to the bigger picture?"
Young Master Sirius was silent for a long time.
In the end, he nodded.
"Fine," he said coldly. "We'll do it your way."
He turned toward Derek.
"You'll be responsible for his protection," Young Master Sirius said flatly. "Make the necessary preparations."
Derek felt as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over his head.
Protect him?
Protect the man who humiliated him so badly that he vomited blood in public?
His fists trembled, but he bowed obediently.
"Yes… Young Master."
Inside, Derek's heart burned with hatred.
…
Ethan frowned as he looked at the map in his hands.
Even back on Earth, his sense of direction had always been terrible. He was the type of person who could get lost inside a shopping mall with clear signs everywhere.
Back then, he had relied on Google Maps.
Now?
This was a cultivation world.
No satellites. No navigation systems. No helpful voice saying, "Turn left in 50 meters."
Thankfully, he had the System.
Ethan immediately let the System scan the map he had received from the Administration Building. Within seconds, a clear route appeared in his mind.
He followed it.
And soon, he stopped.
What he saw in front of him made his expression stiffen.
An old, broken building stood silently before him. Cracks ran across its walls like scars. Thick spider webs clung to the corners. Dust coated every visible surface. The wooden door creaked slightly even though no wind was blowing.
Ethan stared at it for a few seconds.
Then he sighed.
"So this is their revenge," he muttered.
He wasn't stupid. He knew exactly what was going on. Manager Philip couldn't openly obstruct him after everything that happened in the Administration Building, but that didn't mean he couldn't play dirty.
Giving him a clinic in such a desolate, remote location—surrounded by nothing but trees—was the perfect way to suppress him silently.
No traffic.
No neighbors.
No patients.
Ethan shook his head.
"It doesn't matter," he said quietly. "I've dealt with worse."
At that moment, a familiar system notification appeared before his eyes.
[Quest Activated]
[Quest Name: A True Doctor]
[Quest Rank: F]
[Description: A clinic should always be clean. A clean clinic benefits patients and attracts more visitors.]
[Mission: Perform the primary duty of a Doctor. Clean the entire Clinic and make it look beautiful.]
[Completion Rate: 0%]
Ethan stared at the notification.
"…Again?"
He felt the urge to cough blood.
"This is the second time," he muttered. "Does this System have a hatred toward dust or something?"
Why was every early quest related to cleaning?
Library.
Now clinic.
Was this a cultivation system or a sanitation inspection system?
Still, he knew better than to complain.
Even if the System hadn't issued this quest, he would have cleaned the place anyway. No patient would ever step into a filthy clinic—especially in a cultivation world where hygiene often decided life or death.
And if cleaning earned him rewards?
Even better.
Ethan rolled up his sleeves.
"Fine," he said. "Let's get this over with."
The cleaning process began.
As expected, the System was annoyingly meticulous.
"Clean the eastern wall."
"Remove dust from the ceiling beam."
"Eliminate spider webs from the rear corner."
Some instructions felt utterly unnecessary, but Ethan knew the rules—only when every requirement was met would the completion rate increase.
So he followed everything obediently.
Hours passed.
Unlike the time he cleaned the Library, Ethan felt almost no fatigue this time. His stamina had improved drastically. His movements were swift, precise, and efficient.
By the time he finished, not a single drop of sweat could be found on his body.
The clinic looked completely different.
The air was fresh. The floors were spotless. The walls were clean and sturdy. Even the surrounding area outside the clinic had been cleaned under the System's strict instructions.
Finally, another notification appeared.
[Quest Completed: 100%]
Ethan nodded in satisfaction.
He then crafted a simple wooden board and hung it above the entrance.
Daoist Fool Clinic
Below it, he added another line:
All treatments available — Fee: 1 Copper Coin
One copper.
Something even a beggar could afford.
If anyone saw this, they would think he had gone insane.
But Ethan didn't care.
Money was not his priority.
Skill Points were.
He needed patients. As many as possible.
Clearing his massive Skill Points debt mattered far more than earning gold.
As long as he could eat and sleep, that was enough.
Ethan stepped outside and looked around.
Trees.
Silence.
No houses.
No people.
Not even a dog.
He laughed softly.
"They really went all out."
This location had clearly been chosen deliberately—to isolate him completely.
But Ethan wasn't discouraged.
"All I need is one patient," he said calmly.
"One."
Once rumors spread, everything would change.
He returned inside, arranged a simple bed, and lay down.
"If no one comes today," he murmured, closing his eyes, "then tomorrow it is."
Outside, unseen shadows quietly settled around the clinic.
The protection had already begun.
And so had the storm.