She had no recollection of precisely when she had met her.

Just as Sandra was filled with doubt, she heard the girl on the sofa speak. “I have always dealt in medicine. Everything depends on my mood. Miss Olson, you should know the rules, right?”

Miracle Healer didn't turn around. She remained leaning on the sofa, lazily flipping through a book.

Her attitude was cozy and nonchalant; however, an inviolable aura lingered around her.

Sandra choked. “Rules?” It was her first time at Luna Villa.

She blurted out, “Isn't it just money? Forty thousand dollars—enough?”

Would she know any rules?

The servant laughed, as if looking at a clown. “We’re not beggars. Just forty thousand dollars? You must be a fool.” This paltry sum wouldn't even cover the ingredients.

Seeing Sandra's ignorance, the servant said, “Miss Olson, my master says whether she saves people depends on her mood.”

“So I have to make her happy?” Sandra sneered. “How can you be like this? Are you trying to fool me?”

If she were a man, it might be easier. Sandra might even be able to please him differently. However, Miracle Healer was a woman.

“Depends on you,” the servant said, retreating and falling silent.

Sandra was furious. Before she could leave, the girl on the sofa said indifferently, “Your body has suffered permanent injury. You probably won't last more than six months. You don't have much time left. Treasure the days you have.”

Her warning made Sandra's face pale. The doctor at the hospital had said the same thing. She had suffered several hemorrhages, lost her fertility, and was injured during an interrogation. Her body was severely damaged; survival was a miracle. Although she appeared energetic, only Sandra knew the terrifying lightheadedness. In fact, she felt no pain; her bodily functions had deteriorated to the point where even pain was absent. She could die suddenly at any moment.

Sandra still couldn't believe it, but this concerned her life, so she lowered her head. “Then what do you want me to do?”

It sounded like a compromise.

On the sofa, Tiffany flipped through the book casually and said lazily, “It's simple. Perform self-torture. Satisfy me, and I'll give you the medicine.”

“What is that?” Sandra felt a bad feeling.

Tiffany laughed mysteriously and mockingly.

Sandra immediately understood. “You want me to hit myself?”

She couldn't think of any other form of self-torture.

“So, are you going to do it or not?” Tiffany asked coldly.

“I'm not!” Sandra’s pale face flushed with anger. She hadn't expected the girl on the sofa to be more ruthless than her.

“Send the guest out,” Tiffany ordered. Her order was undeniable.

The servant immediately pushed Sandra's wheelchair out.

“Wait!” Sandra was anxious. Only then did she remember that after a fire, Kenneth had come here for Miracle Healer's medicine to treat a facial scar. Unexpectedly, she didn't respect even the Harper family. No wonder rumors said Miracle Healer had a strange personality and fickle rules—everything depended on her mood. If she was in a good mood, she would give customers what they wanted. But in a bad mood, she might turn away even the Harper family. The price was ridiculous; Conner Lee had spent hundreds of millions to extend his life by only a year before going bankrupt. If a few slaps would suffice, it would be a good deal. Sandra gritted her teeth. “Alright! I’ll do it!”

She raised her hand and slapped herself. It was too light.

Tiffany continued flipping through her book.

Sandra slapped herself again, but the sound was pitifully soft. “Is that enough?”

Tiffany said slowly to the servant, “Miss Olson can't do it herself. Sophie, help her.”

The servant immediately nodded and slapped Sandra twice hard. Sophie was tough. These slaps were loud and heavy.

Tiffany smiled. “That's right. Listen to the beautiful sound. This is real torture.”

Sandra gritted her teeth, almost rising from her wheelchair. “Are you satisfied now?”

“You’ve passed the first test. What about the money? Did you bring it?” Tiffany asked calmly. “I don’t do business at a loss.”

Sandra was stunned. “Didn't you say it was fine as long as you were happy?”

“But I didn't say I'd give it to you for free,” Tiffany smirked. “There's no such thing as a free lunch, don't you think?”

Sandra suppressed her anger and had someone bring a safe from the car. It was filled with money. “There’s one hundred thousand dollars here. Is that enough?”

This was twice the amount she’d initially offered.

“I see,” Tiffany laughed. “Your life is only worth one hundred thousand dollars, so I’ll give you a tiny bit of this pill to extend your life a few days. Is that enough?”

Sandra gritted her teeth. “Then I’ll add another one hundred thousand dollars!”

Tiffany remained reading.

Sophie said, “Miss Olson, consider the Lee Group CEO. Don't embarrass yourself with this paltry sum. Think about it: your life or your money—which is more important?”

“You!” Sandra felt furious. “You’re robbing me!”

Tiffany smiled disdainfully. “You’re right. I am robbing you. And what about you? You’ve committed crimes, even tried to kill me yesterday! So, can't I rob you?”