Rising from the Ashes (Andrew and Lauren)

Rafael could not take it anymore and shouted, "Mosby, just accept the challenge already! You've got decades of medical mastery-what's there to fear? Kill him with it!"

Quinton, ever the chaos-stirrer, chimed in again. "Exactly, Dr. Lake! Believe in yourself. Andrew is bluffing-no way he'd really go all in! But hey, if he does... well then, pretend I didn't say anything."

Mosby's apprentices all turned to glare at Quinton, seething with rage. Then, they turned back toward their mentor, bowing respectfully.

"Dr. Lake, go forth with confidence! No matter what happens, even if something... unfortunate occurs, we'll take care of all the madams-day and night, with full devotion!"

Mosby's body trembled. For a fleeting moment, he seriously considered conceding to Andrew on the spot-just to survive this madness. Then, maybe sprint up to the stands and dismember every single one of those so-called apprentices.

As for that bastard Quinton? He wanted to castrate him, then force-feed him his own manhood.

He thought they were a bunch of heartless beasts-just to bring down Andrew, they clearly did not care whether he lived or died.

Mosby wanted to scream, to howl, to unleash all the rage churning in his gut. Meanwhile, Preston and Clifford both let out cold, synchronized grunts.

"Mosby, you've crossed the Rubicon-you can't turn back now. Either surrender right now, hand over the title of Grand Physician and let the Lazarus Blueprint fall into new hands... Or you fight-right here, right now-and send that boy to hell."

They added, "With your decades of expertise and our backup, as long as you don't drop dead instantly, victory's on your side. You have the advantage. There's no reason to hesitate. So, face Andrew head-on!"

Unlike the rest of the crowd, who were just there for the drama, Preston and Clifford's reasoning was sharp and strategic, brutal, but sound.

Mosby paused, realizing that time had run out. If he stalled any longer, he would be branded a coward by everyone present. Grinding his teeth, he finally snarled at Andrew, "Fine! I'll do this, Andrew! Let's take it to the end! Today, either you die— or I do!"

Andrew could not even be bothered to respond. He simply picked up the glass of clear water in front of him and began tossing things in.

As he did, he muttered casually under his breath, "A bit of Necrotic Dust to ensure complete decay... A dash of Seven-Tailed Centipede venom, and some rattlesnake extract. Peaceful passing, you know?

"Oh, can't forget the parasite poison. That stuff's great-should be enough to let your brain incubate a nest of worms. But the sweetest and most delicious has to be Nightshade f the Grim Reaper wants you dead by midnight, you won't make it past 11.00 p.m.!"

With every sentence, Mosby's face twitched harder than the last. This little monster was not just trying to kill him he wanted to annihilate him, body and soul. With that deadly combo, even an immortal would have to take a step back.

Fueled by pure fury and desperation, Mosby finally made his move. A cloud of toxic powders rained into his own glass, thick and dense like smoke.

"Andrew, you asked for this!" he bellowed. His voice cracked into a guttural roar, like a beast driven into a corner.

Then, Andrew calmly walked over and shoved the rest of his poisons into Mosby's hands.

Mosby froze. "What are you doing?"

The entire crowd was dumbfounded, wondering what Andrew was doing.

Andrew flashed a bright smile. "Oh,noveldrama

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I'm basically done here. But your mixture's kinda weak. So, I'm donating these for free. Toss them in! That way, it'll actually have some flavor when I drink it later."

Everyone was stunned.

This was not just being aggressive; this was untouchable arrogance. It was like Andrew no longer recognized fear, consequence, or mortality.

Even Preston and Clifford, who had been confident they could rescue Mosby in time, felt their souls leaving their bodies!

Was Andrew really not afraid of death? Or did he truly have the confidence to treat the Grim Reaper as nothing?

"Alright, now let's start drinking-cheers!"

Seeing Mosby hesitate, Andrew handed over the toxic water in his hand straight to him.