On the misty banks of the Hudson River, nestled within a cold, damp cave, snakes slithered across the floor, and scorpions crawled along the moss-slicked walls. The fetid air reeked of venom and decay.
In the heart of this den of vermin sat a haggard old man. A thick, gray-white python coiled around his frail body, its massive head resting on his shoulder as it slowly swallowed a scarlet-lettered scroll, its forked tongue flickering.
The old man's eyes were closed in deep meditation.
Suddenly, he jerked violently, spitting out a mouthful of dark blood.
"Ew!" he snarled, face twisted in pain and rage. "Who killed my colorful centipede?!"
In the next instant, three pallid men rushed in, dropping to their knees with visible fear.
"Master, what's wrong?" one of them asked, trembling.
"Your junior brother Jim is dead!" the old man growled, his voice echoing off the wet stone.
"Jim is dead?" the three gasped in unison, shocked.
The old man's withered face contorted further. "I lost contact with the colorful centipede. Its final breath was in New York City. Go there—hunt down the bastard who killed Jim. Bring him back alive…"
His voice dropped to a whisper, cruel and guttural.
"…So I can tear him apart limb by limb and feed him to my python."
"Yes, Master!" the three responded immediately before vanishing into the shadows.
Once they were gone, the old man opened his eyes. What stared out from his sockets no longer looked human—his pupils were vertical slits, eerily similar to the python's on his shoulder.
"Damn it…" he snarled, fists clenching. "You dared to destroy the colorful centipede I cultivated with painstaking care?! When I catch you, I'll skin you alive. I'll rip your flesh open and pull your nerves out like string!"
The man's name was Drake, and he didn't give a damn about Jim's death. His fury was solely over the centipede—a rare and potent creature used in arcane medicine. Drake had been on the verge of a breakthrough, and now this… betrayal.
Were it not for this critical moment in his cultivation, he would have flown to New York himself and devoured the killer.
Ironically, the once-arrogant centipede had already been reduced to fine powder by John and distributed in small medicinal batches.
The colorful centipede powder—known for its properties to relieve spasms, detoxify, and dissolve internal blockages—was exceedingly rare and powerful.
John had used less than a tenth of it to save Alice's life.
Inside the room, Tracy walked in with a steaming bowl of herbal decoction.
"Come on, darling," she said teasingly. "Time for your medicine."
Alice, lying weakly in bed, rolled her eyes. "Tracy, seriously? I'm barely conscious and you're cracking jokes?"
Tracy giggled. "Fine, fine. No more teasing." She carefully helped Alice sip the bitter liquid.
While she was feeding her, Tracy frowned. "I still don't get it. How did you get bitten by such a terrifying centipede? Was it… like, a centipede demon or something?"
John, standing beside them, couldn't help but chuckle.
She was more right than she knew.
At the time John was grinding the beast into powder, none of the sisters had been present. If Tracy had seen the size and color of that monstrous insect, she wouldn't have been joking at all.
Alice, on the other hand, remained silent, choosing not to explain the truth. She understood that John didn't want to alarm anyone further.
After feeding her, Tracy let out a long sigh. "Honestly, things have been way too strange lately. First, the Russell family tried to smear Queenie and John, and now this… A damn centipede attack?"
"But luckily," she continued, "the Russells eventually apologized and made a public clarification. Still, I don't get why they even bothered trying to ruin you guys in the first place."
She looked genuinely puzzled.
Alice, however, turned her gaze toward John—quietly, knowingly.
Although she hadn't witnessed anything firsthand, her instincts told her it was John's doing. The way the Russell family backed off... it wasn't natural. That kind of retraction came from fear, not guilt.
She could feel it in her bones—John wasn't just a fighter, or a healer. There was something powerful behind him. Something dangerous.
Five minutes later, John suddenly said, "The medicine should be taking effect. Alice, I'm going to perform acupuncture now."
"Okay…" she whispered, her voice soft and faintly trembling.
A blush rose to her cheeks, deepening the flush along her neck. Even weakened, she looked devastatingly beautiful.
Tracy, sensing the intimate atmosphere, felt a pang of jealousy—but she turned to leave without protest.
She understood what this kind of acupuncture involved—needles in the chest area, dangerously close to the heart. A slight mistake could be fatal.
Tracy knew her own level wasn't high enough for this, or she would have insisted on doing it herself. But at the end of the day, she trusted John.
She stepped out silently, not wanting to distract him.
Now, only two people remained in the room.
John's palms were slightly clammy. He was far more nervous now than the last time he had done this procedure. Back then, Alice had been unconscious, her life hanging by a thread, and there had been no time to feel self-conscious.
Now, however, she was awake. A beautiful woman lay before him, looking directly into his eyes.
"Alice…" he muttered. "Don't look at me like that."
"Mmm…" she murmured in response, her voice low and sultry, though her earlobes had turned redder than cherries.
Though Alice often joked and flirted, it was different now. This wasn't play. She was bare beneath the blanket, skin soft, chest rising and falling.
John forced himself to calm down. He reached for the buttons of her robe and gently undid them.
Twenty painstaking minutes later, the acupuncture was complete.
John let out a breath and wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Phew… Thank god you're naturally—uh—healthy."
He cracked the joke to ease the thick tension in the room. The sweat wasn't from exhaustion, but from sheer nerves.
Alice let out a breathy snort, flicking his forehead with her finger. "Of course I'm healthy. I'm confident in every part of myself."
"Is that a challenge?" John teased.
Just outside the door, Tracy had been eavesdropping shamelessly. When she heard the procedure was over, she pushed the door open.
Alice turned to her with a cheeky grin. "What? Don't tell me you want to compete with me now."
Tracy curled her lips in mock disdain. "Who wants to compete with you? Your boobs are massive anyway."
"Ahh! Tracy, you dare bring that up again?!"