No matter how skilled Dr. L was, she couldn't possibly diagnose him just by looking, could she?
As Clive's mind raced, he heard the doctor speak in a deliberately raspy voice.
"That's right, I'm Dr. L. Please, come in."
Inside the consultation room, Clive removed his hat and mask, revealing a pale but still handsome face. He sat down, his fingers unconsciously gripping the armrests. His eyes darted around, flicking nervously toward Leilani, clearly ill at ease.
Leilani noticed his gaze but pretended not to, calmly opening a new patient file. "Tell me about your situation in detail."
Clive opened his mouth, then closed it, his brow furrowed in a way that suggested he was struggling to find the words. He was dragging his feet, and that was delaying the consultation.
Leilani looked up at him and placed her pen on the desk, her voice cool. "Sir, if you're here to see a doctor but are unwilling to describe your condition, then I can't help you. Perhaps you should seek help elsewhere."
Seeing her impatience, Clive’s forehead broke out in beads of sweat. After a few minutes of internal debate, he finally spoke as if having made a momentous decision. "It's... a problem in a private area."
Leilani remained impassive. "What kind of problem?"
Clive's face grew even paler, and he lowered his voice to a near whisper. "That area... it's inflamed."
His voice was thick with undisguised fury. Was she toying with him? Dr. L was the most highly-skilled doctor he could find on the dark web. If even she couldn't cure him, was he... finished?
Uncontrollable panic began to set in.
Leilani remained perfectly calm, not even bothering to look up. "Rest assured, the deposit and a breach of contract fee will be fully refunded to your account."
She had truly underestimated the depths of Clive's private life. She was still young and had no desire to scar her eyes for life.
With a sigh of resignation, she decided to swallow the loss on this one.

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