Chapter 760

Chapter 760:

Lennon’s grin widened, and a glint of greed lit up his eyes.

“That’s what I like to hear! But, uh, just so you know… where I come from, there’s a little rule—payment upfront, then the healing! I’ll need to get herbs, prep the meds, you understand. All that costs money.”

Coyle, unwilling to waste time on haggling, gave Terrell a slight nod.

Terrell took the signal immediately. He reached into his bag, pulled out a bank card, and held it out.

“There’s two million on this as a deposit. If Mr. Wall makes a full recovery, you’ll be rewarded even more.”

Lennon’s eyes went wide with delight. He snatched the card like a child handed candy, cradling it as if it were made of gold.

“Now that’s what I call sincerity! Don’t worry, Mr. Wall—once I’m through, you’ll be walking like a colt in spring!”

Lennon brightened, invigorated by the promise of wealth. He bowed beside the bed and began pulling odd, mismatched items from his battered cloth satchel—everything from murky pills to strange, jewel-toned powders, and a set of long, razor-thin needles that looked more threatening than medicinal.

Muttering under his breath, he first handed Coyle a handful of chalky, bitter-smelling pills.

With visible reluctance, Coyle swallowed them. Lennon then mixed the powders with a viscous, amber liquid into a paste and smeared it carefully across Coyle’s bruised and battered back.

The entire process looked questionable—more like folk magic than medicine. But to Coyle’s astonishment, the throbbing agony in his spine began to dull. It didn’t vanish, but the relief was noticeable—real.

For the first time in days, he could breathe without gritting his teeth.

Could this unrefined country quack actually possess some skill?

Lennon’s grin stretched across his weathered face, his expression sly beneath the deep wrinkles.

The rest on gⲁ𝗅𝗇𝑜ν𝖊𝗅𝘀⩺𝒸𝗈𝗺

“I’m glad you’re feeling better, Mr. Wall,” he said, rubbing his hands together in satisfaction.

“Well, I’ve got some pressing business elsewhere, so if you’ll excuse me…” With a final toothy grin, he slipped out of the room.

The moment he stepped outside, Lennon pulled the bank card from his coat like a sacred treasure, holding it up to the light as if expecting it to glow. His eyes sparkled with unfiltered greed.

Two million! From a paralyzed old goat! He chuckled to himself, pocketing the card like it was the crown jewel of his crooked career.

A veterinarian by trade, he was used to setting farm animals straight—cows, goats. But today? Today he had conned his way into high society and walked out with a fortune.

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Message from Noah: Happy monday dear readers. God loves you and Noah whishes you all the best. ヾ( ˃ᴗ˂ )◞ • *✰

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