The Established Siblings of the Pack

Chapter 238

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Everyone was soon settled into their rooms.

At ten in the morning, the 18th Cleapolis Medical Forum officially started.

There was not a lot planned for the morning.

As usual, after the host made the opening speech, they introduced the experts present and the topics

that would be discussed in the next three days.

At half past eleven, they dispersed for their lunch buffet.

After taking a simple meal for herself, Alice said to Kingsley, “We have two hours for our lunch break.

Let’s explore the foot of Mount Crowler.”

It just so happened that Kingsley was interested in exploring as well. Hence, the two of them departed

toward the mountain.

Just as they arrived at the foot of the mountain, they saw several muscular men dressed in black suits

walking over. The group of men had fierce looks on their faces.

“B-Boss?”

The man who spoke was Wendell, the right-hand man of Baron.

At the sight of Kingsley, the hostility in Wendell’s expression melted away. “Why are you here, boss?”

“I was about to ask you that. Why are you here?” Kingsley wondered. “Jadeland Heights has been

booked out, right? How did you get in?”

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“I know the security guard captain here. He let us in,” Wendell answered with an awkward chuckle.

“We got a job here. Tonight, we are to kill someone in Mount Crowler, so we came to scout out the

area.”

“Who are you killing?” A look flashed in Kingsley’s eyes.

“We don’t know yet. The guy said he would be bringing the target into the mountains. We just need to

kill him.”

Wendell did not dare lie to Kingsley. “However, from the way he spoke, I think they would be having

their way with Dr. Kramer after luring the target away…”

When Alice heard that, her face twisted with realization. “Dr. Kramer?”

Wendell glanced at her before saying, in an attempt at flattery, “You are… his wife?”

“She is my sister,” Kingsley answered with a frown. “You can also call her Dr. Kramer.”

Wendell was at a loss for words.

Suddenly, all the blood fled from his face.

It took a while before Wendell could stammer out, “D-Dr. Kramer? That brat wants your sister! That

means the person he wants dead is…”

At that, he suddenly stopped speaking.

Seeing the icy look in Kingsley’s eyes made Wendell’s heart sink.

Why was he so cursed?

How could a simple job result in going up against this invincible man?

Afraid that Kingsley would be mad at him, he hurriedly explained,

“Boss, I did not know he wanted to kill you! If I had known, I would never have dared to accept the job!”

He quickly shuffled away. “We will go right now! Immediately!”

“Wait.”

Kingsley narrowed his eyes. “Since he’s going to kill me, I would never let him walk free so easily.”

“You mean to say…”

“Give him a taste of his own medicine.”

Ten minutes later.

The two men were done hashing out their plan.

With the new revelation, Alice was no longer in the mood for sightseeing. Hence, she and Kingsley

went back to their rooms.

At half past one, everyone gathered in the largest conference room in Jadeland Heights for the first

discussion of the event.

To everyone’s surprise, the first to speak was Director Wayne of Cleapolis’s Health Bureau.

Dylan walked up on stage and cleared his throat.

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“Our first topic of the year is the treatment of comatose patients,” he said with a smile. “Which is more

effective; modern medicine or traditional medicine?”

Everyone looked at each other. No one spoke.

For a moment, there was an awkward silence in the hall.

After a few long moments, Scott finally spoke up. “Director Wayne, I do not believe such a topic is

officially listed for this year’s discussions. Moreover, there is no meaning in comparing traditional

medicine with modern medicine!”

“I disagree with that view,” protested an old man in a suit.

“My specialty is researching prolonged disorders of consciousness caused by trauma to the brain, also

known as the vegetative state.

I can tell you with utmost confidence that modern medicine is at an undeniable advantage when it

comes to the treatment and care of such patients. Traditional medicine cannot compare!”

The doctor who spoke was Liam Clayton, a man in his sixties who was equally as renowned and

experienced as Scott.

For most of his life, he worked in Mittera. It was only in the past years that he had been invited back to

work in the local hospitals.

As someone who used to be a permanent resident of Mittera, he looked down on everything that came

from the Empire of Qustia, including their traditional medicine skills.

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