After listening to the middle-aged man's story, the young man nodded slightly, adjusted his monocle, and said with a reassuring smile, "Then you are truly lucky to have found me. Your daughter's illness will soon disappear."
The young man then turned his gaze toward the small girl and said in a gentle, almost hypnotic tone, "little angel, please give me your hand." The young man possessed a magical, calming affinity. Under his steady gaze, the girl obediently stretched out her small hand.
The young man placed his hand over the girl's. The middle-aged man watched them intently. Suddenly, he thought he saw a flash of light on the monocle worn by the young man, and then the young man let go of the girl's hand.
"Sir, your daughter's illness is cured," the young man announced calmly. "You can take your daughter to the hospital for a check-up. If you have any further questions, you are welcome to come back to me."
Before the man could fully comprehend what was happening, the young man in front of him had simply touched his daughter's hand and declared that her illness was gone.
"Sir, this...?" The middle-aged man looked at his daughter and found that her complexion seemed to have genuinely improved. Her face was no longer so deathly pale.
"Emma, how do you feel?" the man asked his daughter, his voice trembling.
"Daddy, my body doesn't hurt anymore," the girl said in a low, clear voice. "I feel so much more comfortable."
The middle-aged man's mouth fell open, and he stopped breathing for a few seconds. Then, he stood up from his chair, half-knelt in front of his daughter, and hugged her excitedly. "It's okay... as long as it doesn't hurt... as long as you feel comfortable..." His words began to choke with emotion.
The middle-aged man then remembered something. He took out an envelope from his pocket, placed it on the table, and said with overflowing gratitude, "Sir, thank you so much! Here is five thousand dollars. It's all I can afford right now. Thank you so much for saving my daughter!" After saying that, the middle-aged man tried to kowtow to the young man, but a firm hand on his shoulder prevented him from doing so.
At the same time, the envelope was handed back to him, now with a small booklet inside. "You are a good father," the young man said. "Money is not important to me. I do not treat patients and save lives for money. If you truly wish to thank me, please read this book carefully."
The middle-aged man took the booklet and read the words on the cover clearly. Emblazoned on the front were the large characters: "The Mysterious Gospels."
"I will," he promised fervently. "Our whole family will!"
After sending the middle-aged man and his daughter away, Amon sat back in his large office chair. The Amon here was just one of his many clones, distributed all over the world. These clones would "steal" a patient's disease to achieve the effect of curing them. Often, Amon would give the patients he treated a copy of the booklet, "The Mysterious Gospel," to spread his influence. After a long period of accumulation, there were already many believers of Amon scattered across the globe.
Amon had discovered long ago that using abilities that involved his authority was very strenuous. However, with the support of believers and anchors, using those abilities became much easier. Amon's motivations for curing diseases and saving lives were not solely for the purpose of preaching. Doing good was one aspect, but accumulating diseases was another. These accumulated diseases could also be used as a potent means of attack. Handing a large concentration of disease directly to an enemy during battle was a simple and effective way to attack.
Boom boom boom!
There was another knock on the door. Amon got up and opened it. This time, two men in black suits stood outside the door.
In Manhattan, New York, in front of a nightclub with the single word "Different" emblazoned on its sign, Pepper Potts, the personal assistant to Tony Stark, CEO of Stark Industries, took a brief look at the establishment and then walked over with her bodyguard, Happy Hogan.
Tony Stark had been missing for almost three months, ever since he went to Afghanistan to demonstrate Stark Industries' new Jericho missile. The media could no longer hide the truth, and Stark Industries' stock had been plummeting. The company needed Stark, and Pepper Potts also desperately needed Tony. During these three months, Pepper had tried many avenues, including asking the military for help, seeking out spy organizations, and even hiring mercenaries, but she had failed to find any trace of Tony's whereabouts.
Pepper, who was at her wit's end, accidentally heard from a business partner that the owner of the "Different" nightclub was a very mysterious man who could complete any commission and was suspected of having a worldwide organization supporting him. After some discreet inquiries, Pepper had brought Tony's bodyguard, Happy, to this unique dance hall to seek help from its enigmatic owner.
When Pepper arrived at the entrance, she was stopped by two security guards. One of them pointed to the single monocle he wore over his right eye, indicating that she had to wear one as well if she wanted to enter. Pepper nodded, took out the monocle she had prepared in advance from her pocket, and placed it over her own right eye.
Happy, who followed behind her, also put on a monocle. This was the rule of the "Different" nightclub. Anyone who wanted to enter had to wear a monocle. Pepper had already inquired about this rule, which was why she had prepared them in advance. Seeing that the two of them were now wearing monocles, the security guards made way and let them in.
Passing through a narrow, dimly lit passage, Pepper and Happy arrived at the main bar. Pepper addressed the bartender, who was busy wiping glasses behind the bar. "Sir, I'm Pepper Potts from Stark Industries. I have something to ask your boss."
Hearing this, the bartender looked up at Pepper and the man beside her, then casually threw the glass in his left hand back. The glass drew a perfect arc through the air and landed accurately on a cup rack.
Happy, ever the comedian, exclaimed with exaggerated enthusiasm, "That's amazing!" Pepper turned and gave Happy a deadpan glare. Happy offered an awkward smile. "Haha."
The bartender adjusted his own right monocle and smiled at the two of them. "If you want to see the boss, go up the right passage and find the second black door on the third floor. The boss is there."
"Thanks!"
After thanking him, Pepper took Happy to the location the bartender had indicated. Soon, they arrived at the designated black door on the third floor. Happy stepped forward and knocked on the door twice. A moment later, a voice from inside the door called out, "Come in!" and the door was opened. The two of them entered the room without hesitation.
The interior was more spacious than it appeared from the outside. There were more than a dozen people inside, all wearing the same tailored suits and single monocles. They were all sitting around a large, circular table, seemingly engrossed in some kind of game.
Pepper frowned. She hadn't expected to find so many people inside. After a slight pause, she asked, "Gentlemen, who is the boss here? I am..."
Before Pepper could finish her sentence, a voice rang out: "It's dark, please close your eyes!" The entire room was plunged into absolute darkness, without a single trace of light, as if the light itself had been stolen.
A few seconds later, the voice sounded again: "Please open your eyes when it's dawn! Number Three, Death!"
"Are they playing Werewolf?" Happy wondered aloud.
Light filled the room again. A young man came up to Pepper, bowed politely, and asked, "Ms. Potts, you're looking for me?"
Pepper nodded. She wasn't surprised that he knew her name. After all, she was Tony Stark's secretary and was very well-known.
"Sir, I haven't had the pleasure of asking your name yet."
"Klein Moretti," the man introduced himself. "Just call me Klein."
"Mr. Moretti, I have something very important to discuss with you. Is it possible for us to go to a more private room?" As she spoke, Pepper glanced at the group of people who were now watching them like a show, feeling that there were far too many people in the room.
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Thank you for reading.
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