That one sentence struck a deep chord in Caleb Chen's chest, and it couldn't be more accurate. It voiced the tragedy of his situation better than anything else.
He had believed—truly believed—that being reborn with knowledge of the future would help him rewrite his miserable fate. He thought his past mistakes could be erased, his dreams fulfilled, and a glorious life crafted from scratch.
But instead, he was blindsided by reality.
He hadn't even completed his first apprenticeship. He hadn't even begun turning his knowledge into action. And just like that, his aspirations were crushed—literally—by a woman who weighed over 200 pounds and fell on top of him at the worst possible moment.
And now? Three ribs broken. Dignity shattered.
Why?
How?!
Of course, Caleb didn't blame the woman. It was an accident. She hadn't meant to do it. She was just another passerby caught in the chaos of life.
As a broad-minded protagonist, Caleb wasn't so petty as to hold her responsible.
But someone had to take the blame.
And in his mind, there was only one name worthy of his fury.
"Rayden Wolfe! It's all because of him!!!" Caleb growled, his teeth grinding.
Across from him, Dr. Simon Zhao blinked in confusion. "Rayden Wolfe? The one who called me? What do you mean? The hospital told me he was the one who brought you here and even paid your medical expenses. Honestly, you don't see people like that very often nowadays."
Caleb's eyes flared with disbelief. "Brother, you've been sold, and you're still helping the man count his money! Don't you get it?!"
In his previous life, Simon had suffered just as much. He'd been forced out of Wolfe Medical Center, left unemployed and disgraced, all thanks to that seemingly harmless Rayden Wolfe. Simon had no idea how close he'd gotten to ruin.
But Caleb didn't blame him. How could he? He wasn't reborn.
Simon couldn't possibly understand the depths of Rayden's manipulations. The man didn't just have influence—he had layers.
Rayden had terrifying talent and resources, but he always hid behind the mask of a harmless, lazy rich kid. Everyone underestimated him. They all thought he was just another spoiled heir to the Wolfe Group, a man who only knew how to waste money and time.
But when no one was watching, he'd strike with lethal precision—like a blade hidden in a velvet glove.
His most terrifying trait? He didn't scheme in the dark. He didn't rely on dirty tricks. He crushed people using righteousness—morality itself became his weapon. He always stood on the moral high ground, and when he destroyed you, everyone applauded him for it.
Caleb had seen it happen before.
Several of his allies—brothers who had stood by him—were taken down one by one. Businesses destroyed. Reputations ruined. Women… stolen.
Yes, even their girlfriends and fiancées had run off with Rayden Wolfe, charmed by his 'kindness.'
And now, remembering all that, Caleb's heart ached with rage.
"Senior Brother," Caleb said, locking eyes with Simon, "don't be fooled by his smiling face. Go dig a little deeper. He's the heir to the Wolfe family. That's not some small-time business—it's a corporate empire. And yet he plays the part of a clueless playboy so well that even the nurses here probably think he's harmless!"
Simon rubbed his chin, uncertain. "Really…? Are you sure?"
"Of course I'm sure!" Caleb insisted. "What would I lie to you for? That man's rotten to the core. He's the kind that oozes pus! But it's too early to talk about revenge. Just believe me when I say—one day, you'll see it with your own eyes. And when that day comes, you'll understand everything."
Simon eventually nodded, though a frown remained on his face.
Caleb let the topic drop with a sigh. "Anyway, let's not talk about unpleasant things. I called you here today not just to see your face but because I need you to treat my injuries personally."
He pulled back the blanket slightly and gestured to his chest.
"You saw it—I've got three broken ribs. The doctor said it'll take at least two months to recover naturally. I don't have that kind of time. I need to get better fast."
Simon chuckled confidently. "Then you're in luck! Junior Brother, you found the right person. With my help, you'll be back on your feet in one week—guaranteed!"
Caleb's eyes sparkled. "Wait… Senior Brother, don't tell me—you've reached the seventh level of the Ghost Valley Needle Technique?"
Simon nodded proudly. "That's right! The Ghost Valley Needle Technique has nine stages:
Relieves pain
Clears cold
Reduces fever
Stops bleeding
Regenerates flesh
Repairs internal organs
Fuses bones
Revives consciousness
Slays the soul."
"I may not be as naturally gifted as you," Simon added, "but I've trained tirelessly. Just recently, I mastered the seventh needle—bone regeneration. I can accelerate bone recovery like never before. With my silver needles, you'll be fine within a week!"
Caleb was overjoyed. "You're amazing, Senior Brother! Please—treat me!"
Rayden Wolfe… wait for me. Once I'm back on my feet, I'll come knocking on your door—and it won't be to thank you.
Simon opened his backpack and carefully pulled out a silver needle. He sterilized it over a flame and turned toward Caleb solemnly.
"Junior Brother, it might sting a bit. Can you handle it?"
Caleb's eyes were resolute. "Bring it on. After what I went through last night, this is nothing!"
Simon gave a short nod. "Alright. Hold still."
He pressed the needle against Caleb's rib area and pushed.
Clink.
The needle bent sideways.
Simon blinked. He tried again.
Clink. Bent again.
"Junior Brother… are you secretly cultivating inner strength or something?"
Caleb scoffed. "Do I look like I have time for that? If I had internal power, would I be lying in this hospital bed? I don't know what's going on, but for some reason… my skin feels tougher than usual."
"Alright," Simon muttered, switching to another needle. "Let me try again. Harder this time."
Clink. Bent.
Again.
Clink.
And again.
Snap.
One after another, the needles either bent or snapped completely—and Caleb's skin remained perfectly intact.
"I don't believe this!" Simon shouted in frustration. "Is your body made of steel now?!"
He reached for his final needle, the thickest and strongest in his case.
With renewed determination, Simon climbed onto the bed, crouched for balance, and jabbed downward with full strength.
But just as he did, his foot slipped.
Crash!
Simon collapsed onto the floor, letting out a loud thud. The needle vanished from sight.
Caleb panicked. "Senior Brother! Are you okay? Where's the needle?"
Simon's face turned ghostly white. "It… it went in."
Caleb blinked. "What do you mean it went in?"
Simon whimpered. "It went into my leg! It hurts like hell! Ow, ow, ow…"
Caleb stared blankly at the scene.
"...?"
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