Cansington was the capital of medicine, contributing to 80% of the world’s medicine.
Here, there were pharmaceutical companies worth billions, as well as thousands of medicinal processing factories whether big or small.
Pharmacies were everywhere, whether on big roads or tucked away in small alleys.
Nine Dragons Street was a messy, complicated street in the heart of Cansington where crooks gathered. There were antique stores, bars, pubs, and massage parlors…
At one end of the street stood a clinic.
Common Clinic.
Henry had found asylum here.
As James was a doctor, Henry had picked up a few things from him over the years. He was adept at treating the flu, colds, and minor injuries.
On the mini operating table at Common Clinic.
James looked at Thea, whose face was bleeding. Her knees were scraped and her flesh was embedded with bits of debris.
She had been gravely tortured.
As she lost a lot of blood and was exhausted, she fainted.
James had a scary, blank look.
Cradling Thea’s face, his hard expression cracked, revealing a hint of shame. Tears welled in his eyes and started dripping down his face.
He had promised never to let Thea get hurt again.
He had failed.
He owed Thea so much that he would never be able to repay her this lifetime.
He refused to think about the consequences had he been just slightly late.
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