Suddenly, a flash of cold light appeared before Bianca's eyes. In the next moment, her world spun, and everything went black. Her head thudded to the ground. The last thing Bianca saw was the retreating silhouette of a Hell Guard sheathing his knife. She never imagined she would die seeking revenge for her cousins.
Dustin returned to the small house, where Irene waited quietly in the chair he’d left her in. “You’re back,” she said softly, smiling at him.
Dustin leaned down and caressed her face. “Don’t worry. Give me three days, and I’ll make sure your face heals perfectly,” he reassured her.
“I believe you,” Irene replied with a smile. Dustin had already resurrected her grandfather; a scar seemed a far less daunting task.
“I’m sorry,” Dustin said apologetically. “You wouldn’t have gone through all this if it weren’t for me.” His oversight—failing to anticipate Bianca targeting Irene—had led to this.
“It’s not your fault. I don’t blame you at all,” Irene said softly, smiling. “I feel really sleepy and tired, Dustin. I’m going to take a nap for just a while…” Her voice trailed off as her eyes fluttered closed. Dustin frowned; her condition seemed odd.
He examined her, his face darkening, then growing grim. “The Five Venoms Sect’s best poison—Zombie Powder!” he said darkly. It was Bianca’s doing. She had poisoned Irene.
The Zombie Powder wasn't deadly in the traditional sense. Instead, it gradually shut down bodily functions, leading to a coma. The victim remained aware, their senses intact, but unable to move or react. Remarkably, the poison preserved the body and even offered resistance to certain illnesses. Death didn't come easily; the victim remained in a vegetative state, neither truly living nor dying—a form of excruciating torture. The only relief was death, but who could kill a loved one? The poison’s unparalleled effectiveness also stemmed from its lack of an antidote.
Bianca was cruel. Whether Dustin had obeyed her or not, Irene would suffer. If he truly cared for Irene, witnessing this would be agonizing.
Enraged, Dustin felt Bianca's death had been far too painless. He glanced at Irene, then pressed a pressure point to help her sleep peacefully. He knew there was a point of no return with the Zombie Powder, but before that, Irene would have moments of clarity. He decided not to tell her about the poison.
“For any other physician, Zombie Powder is incurable,” he muttered to himself. “Even its creator would struggle to find an antidote. But I have the Medical Bible. It shouldn't be too hard to find something that works.” He had a way to create an antidote; he just needed some rare ingredients.
“Since this happened because of me, I will fix it myself!”