The Great Medical Saint

A pound of asphode grass cost a hundred bucks, so Harold's offer of a hundred bucks per stalk was definitely more than it was worth.

He didn't care about losing money. As long as he could save Mason, he was willing to pay even a thousand dollars a stalk.

Caron snorted. "Who do you think you are? Do you think money's enough for this? These herbs are to be exported abroad, so you're not worthy of using them! Now, get the fuck out of my way, or I'm gonna get nasty!"

Matthew had already lost his patience from waiting for so long. He got up from the tricycle and said, "Don't tell me you can't see that we need the asphode grass to save someone's life!"

Caron scoffed. "What does that have to do with me? Even if there were an earthquake here and everyone was to die in it, it wouldn't have anything to do with me! Fuck off, or I'll make you pay the price!"

Matthew suddenly slapped him, making him stagger backward as his head spun. He barely managed to catch himself before falling.

He roared, "Have you fucking lost your mind? I'm an Eastorian! How dare you lay a hand on me? You're dead meat, ass="

Before he could finish, Matthew gave him another slap. "Who's the fucker here? If you ask me, you're here to cheat these honest people out of their herbs! Why haven't you settled the bill? I'm gonna give you the beating of a lifetime!" He then punched Caron, sending him flying. The latter crashed against the truck and collapsed on the ground.

He clutched his stomach and howled in pain. The sound was so blood-curdling that it made chills run down the spines of the spectators.

Matthew hopped onto the truck and grabbed a crate of asphode grass. Then, he threw it onto the ground. "Open it!"Text © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.

Harold opened it and retrieved three stalks. "What should we do next?"

Matthew said coldly, "Borrow a stove from the local pharmacy and cook the asphode grass. Add two bowls of water, and boil the asphode grass in it until it reduces to one bowl of water. Do it fast!" Harold pointed at Caron. "What about this dude?"

Matthew snapped, "Who cares? He snatched your herbs without paying you and ended up getting a beating. That's it!"

Harold grunted before running to the pharmacy. 20 minutes later, he returned with a bowl of broth, which he fed to Mason.

A while later, Mason's pain stopped. However, his clothes were drenched from the sweat he'd broken out into because of the pain, and he was still a little weak.

Caron clutched his stomach,

wanting to get to his feet.

Unfortunately for him, the pain in his

stomach was only getting worse. He had no choice but to sit on the ground while reporting to Ethan.

Then, he pointed at Matthew and snarled, "Just wait. The owner of these herbs won't let you off the hook! You're in deep shit now. You're gonna die a horrible death!" Matthew turned to look at him, his gaze icy and murderous. He stared into Caron's eyes as if he were the Grim Reaper looking at someone on the brink of death.

What was with that look? Caron was so frightened by Matthew's gaze that he turned away without saying anything else.

Matthew snorted. If not for there being so many people around, he would've already gotten rid of Caron. He'd killed plenty of Eastorians-one more wouldn't matter.

Harold was a little panicky. "You...

You should go. I'm worried you won't

be able to handle his people if there

are too many of them. Hurry up and leave! I'll deal with what's coming!"

Matthew shook his head. "You seem to have sold these herbs in a hurry. They'd be more mature if you were to give them a dozen more days to grow." Harold sighed. "I was going to sell them to a company called Wealthwave Group. A company called Healthline Pharmaceutical signed the contract with us.

"However, someone from Healthline Pharmaceutical suddenly called earlier and told me that they'll pay me extra for the sale. I just needed to harvest the herbs today. I did as they said, but they've yet to pay me

in full." nay,