The Great Medical Saint

Tony shook his head repeatedly and muttered under his breath, the words too faint to make out.

Ansel glared at Matthew. "If you can't make it happen, then don't go around saying things that sound like outright lies. I've lived my whole life and never seen a medical license get delivered to someone's doorstep."

Matthew sighed. "I'd love for it to be done right away, but they said since his mentor is dead, there's no way to prove the mentorship lineage. Without that, they claim it's impossible to issue a medical license. I decided not to argue over the process and just wait for the results. Don't worry, it'll be taken care of and delivered."

Ansel frowned. "You couldn't manage it yourself, but you think waiting around will get it done? Are you sure you're not being strung along?"

Matthew replied with a smile, "I believe it'll be handled. Give it three days at most, and we'll have it in hand."

Just then, Tony's phone started ringing, the sound piercing through the hall on the ninth floor.

Still staring blankly at the table, Tony didn't react to the noise.

Matthew nudged him. "Your phone. Pick it up."

Tony moved slowly and finally pressed the answer button, but his tone was lifeless. "Hello, this is Tony Carling. What? You're delivering the medical license?"

He shot to his feet, his expression a mix of shock and disbelief. He looked like a man on the brink of collapse in the desert and suddenly stumbling upon an unexpected oasis.

Jerome, who was on the other end, continued, "Yes, I'm bringing it to you. Where are you? I'll deliver it right away."

"Opulent Club, ninth floor," Tony blurted, his voice trembling with excitement.

After hanging up, he seemed dazed. "He said he's delivering the medical license. This feels unreal."

Matthew was just as surprised. He expected it to take a couple of days, but it had only been half an hour. Didn't Jerome say it couldn't be done due to procedural issues?

Twenty minutes later, someone escorted Jerome up to the ninth floor.

Jerome had heard of the Opulent

Club before, but he had only ever set foot on the first floor. The higher levels were rumored to offer exclusive privileges, especially from the third floor up, where even access to high-level business intelligence was possible. Content bétongs to

Hearing that Tony-a man known for scoring just one point on his medical exam-noveldrama

was on the prestigious ninth floor, Jerome couldn't help but reevaluate his assumptions about Tony. Tony's status in Jerome's mind suddenly skyrocketed.

Stepping out of the elevator, he scanned the room, and the layout left him perplexed. It looked nothing like a modern high-end

establishment. Instead, it resembled an old-school medical clinic from a

and medicine containers, as well as various peculiar, vintage

historical film, with d

decorations.

The more he observed, the more bewildered he became.

In front of a wooden table sat three people. Jerome immediately recognized Matthew.

He glanced at Tony twice before realizing he had seen him in previous medical exam records. The photo in those records now matched the man sitting here.

The third person was an elderly gentleman with a full head of white hair. Despite his age, he appeared vigorous, his sharp eyes radiating authority. This man exuded an air of unwavering strength and stature. Jerome was certain he had never met him before.

As Jerome approached, he smiled and greeted Matthew warmly, "Mr. Grant, you're here too?"

Matthew gave a small nod. "So, did you get the medical license done?"

Jerome grinned, pulling a piece of paper from his pocket. "Yes, it's done. Here it

is."

Tony, still puzzled, asked, "But I didn't provide a photo or ID. How did you manage that?"

Jerome chuckled. "We used the photo from your previous exam records and printed it. The official seal is stamped on it."

As he spoke, he held the license out toward Tony but hesitated halfway. Realizing

it wouldn't feel right, he shifted and handed it directly to Matthew instead.

Matthew examined it. The photo, though slightly dated, was clear, and the official stamps had been freshly applied. "Didn't you say it couldn't be processed without proof of mentorship?"

Jerome chuckled. "Procedures like that apply to regular folks. For someone like me, I can just fill in the mentorship section however I see fit. As long as I don't make trouble, no one else will."