"Serious? About what, Sean?" Marceau drawled, his gaze drifting back to the paused holographic game. He tapped a few buttons, resuming the simulation with a casual flick of his wrist. "Protecting some newly arrived princess? Sounds dreadfully boring."
He didn't meet Sean's gaze, but Sean could feel the weight of Marceau's assessment – a subtle judgment that implied Anastasia was naive and easily manipulated. It was precisely that kind of thinking that Sean was trying to prevent.
"She's my sister," Sean insisted, his voice hardening.
"And I won't let anyone take advantage of her."
Marceau looked at Sean both had there own secrets but he found it amusing because the siblings are ruthless and cold blooded how long would they keep there little princess in the dark she is a mafia heiress? But Marceau did not care much at all.
"Sean, you are a Miracle Worker, can you check out my grandfather?" Marceau asked.
"The illness he had I can't handle it but I suppressed but of course if you find the Divine Ghost Doctor who appeared three years ago that would be different I also want to meet that doctor," Sean said with coldness. Three years ago Divine Ghost Doctor appeared in India and took care over three thousands over people and got the nickname but when she finished healing those people she went to other sick cities after she was done she disappeared but what they found out is that she or he wore all white had a hat on that covered there entire face. Both Sean and Marceau were searching for that person.
The conversation shifted, the playful banter giving way to a shared purpose that bound Sean and Marceau together. The Divine Ghost Doctor – a figure shrouded in mystery and whispered legends – was a subject of intense fascination for both of them. Three years ago, she had materialized in India, a beacon of hope amidst widespread suffering. Stories of her miraculous healing abilities spread like wildfire, earning her the moniker "Divine Ghost Doctor." She had tended to over three thousand people, curing ailments that baffled conventional medicine, before vanishing as abruptly as she had appeared.
All that was known about her was that she wore all white, concealing her identity behind a widebrimmed hat that obscured her face entirely. Yet, despite the anonymity, her reputation had grown into something almost mythical – a testament to the power of selfless compassion and unparalleled medical skill.
"Yeah, that's how I know she's real, of course," Marceau confirmed, a rare hint of earnestness in his voice.
"Hearing my grandmother talk about it… she was practically glowing when she described the treatment."
He paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face.
"It's fascinating, isn't it? All everyone knows is that she only uses ancient medical records. No modern technology, no advanced diagnostics – just centuriesold knowledge and an uncanny ability to diagnose and heal."
He leaned back further into the plush armchair, swirling a glass of amber liquid.
"It's almost… archaic. But undeniably effective."
"True, true, anyway I need to go back and see my twin sister, now I understand how you feel having a twin sister," Sean said. Marceau does have a twin sister who is annoying but he would protect his sister no matter what.
A wry smile played on Anastasia's lips as she scrolled through the mission requests, dismissing them with a wave of her hand. The sheer audacity of some individuals was truly astounding. A billion dollars to find her? The irony wasn't lost on her. It was like offering a king a reward for revealing his own identity.
She rejected the Divine Ghost Doctor mission with a dismissive flick of her wrist, the action swift and efficient. The thought of anyone attempting to track her down, to uncover her secrets, was… tiresome. She preferred to remain an enigma, a whisper in the shadows.
The air around Anastasia crackled with a barely perceptible energy as she contemplated the mission request. The stolen artifact – a relic of immense historical significance, rumored to possess unique energy properties – resonated with a peculiar allure. It wasn't the promise of wealth or recognition that drew her in, but rather the potential for uncovering forgotten knowledge, for unraveling the mysteries of the past.
She was gifted with the ability to read fortunes, a skill honed over centuries of experience. It was a tool she rarely used, preferring to rely on her own intuition and strategic thinking. But sometimes, when faced with a difficult decision, she would consult her deck of fiftyfour cards – each one imbued with symbolic meaning and cryptic prophecies.
With deliberate movements, she laid out four cards on her bed and flipped them over. The first card depicted an empty space – signifying uncertainty and limitless potential.
The night air whipped through Anastasia's hair as she navigated the labyrinthine streets with a speed and agility that defied her slender frame. She moved like a phantom, a blur of motion against the backdrop of the city's vibrant nightlife. Each step was purposeful, each movement calculated, as she raced against time to prevent a tragedy.
She scanned the faces around her, searching for any sign of distress, any indication of the person whose life hung precariously in the balance. The cards had been clear – someone close to Benny was on the brink. But who? And where were they?
Unbeknownst to Anastasia, her frantic movements hadn't gone unnoticed. From the opulent balcony of his mansion, Marceau watched her disappear into the shadows. He leaned against the railing, a flicker of amusement dancing in his grayishblue eyes.
The sterile scent of antiseptic filled Anastasia's nostrils as she burst through the hospital doors, her expression a mask of fierce determination. The receptionist, a young woman with tired eyes, barely had time to register Anastasia's arrival before she was met with a torrent of frustrated energy.
"Patient room 303. Now! Do you want to find a dead body?!" Anastasia barked, her voice echoing through the otherwise quiet lobby. The receptionist recoiled slightly, startled by the intensity of her demand.
She had already contacted Benny, relaying the ominous premonition from her cards and urging him to meet her at the hospital immediately. But time was of the essence, and every second counted. She couldn't afford to wait for bureaucratic procedures or polite formalities.
Without waiting for a response, Anastasia bolted towards the stairs, ascending them with an almost superhuman speed.