“When did you…” one of the Ascendant ranks growled through his teeth.
It was only yesterday that he came under the Turnbull’s payroll, and he never ate from their table.
So how did he catch the bug like the others?
“Darling…” Vicky was clutching her belly too, clearly taken ill as well.
“Come here, take this antidote and direct the vigor I infuse into you to clear your bowels,” Frank said, passing Vicky a black pill.
Vicky took the pill without hesitation and sat in meditation as she accepted an iota of vigor from Frank, directing it throughout her own body.
She was a martial artist who had lost her cultivation due to poisoning. However, with Frank’s vigor as a catalyst, her body felt like a broken dam, and her vigor kept gushing away from her meridian nexus, swiftly purging the bug.
“Vicky… Don’t trust him…”
Glen actually tried to stop Vicky from taking the pill, only to be left staring as Vicky was soon on her feet.
And judging from the look on her face, she was cured and perfectly fine now.
“Wha…?!”
Glen was flabbergasted—why would Frank save them?
The South Sea Crow wanted them dead!
Could it be that he was not the South Sea Crow?
At the same time, Frank whipped out two more pills and threw them to Vicky. “Here. Feed these to your parents—they can’t wield vigor, so you’ll have to assist them.”
“Okay!”
Vicky did not hesitate to feed her parents both pills and directed her vigor flow into them to quickly clear the bug.
As Walter recovered, he began, “Mr. Lawrence, I…”
Frank held up a hand to stop him. “You don’t have to thank me, Mr. Turnbull—I simply won’t watch Vicky’s family get killed. Right now, there’s only one thing to do and it’s to capture the poisoner.”
“Frank…”
Vicky came up to him with a droopy face, her intention clear as she pointed at the hundred over members of her family.
Frank snorted—he was not blind to the Turnbulls’ pleading looks. “They were accusing me of being the South Sea Crow, weren’t they? They shouldn’t be giving me those looks when they blamed me as the culprit so readily.”
“Darling!”
Vicky tugged on his hand, pleading. “They are my family, come what way. Pretty please…”
Leaning in, she then breathed into his ear, “They’d definitely think differently of you if you save them now.”
Frank sighed when he saw her sly smile.
He was no angel—as a matter of fact, he never told the Turnbulls when he realized something was wrong with the red wine. After all, he was an outsider to the lot of them and was not worth their trust. If anything, those who knew him hated him and certainly would not believe him.
Moreover, he was keen to play messiah.
After all, the Turnbulls should be grateful that he saved their lives, should they not? That would certainly win him a few favors.
Considering how much grief he was given, he would still repay such injustice with grace because of Vicky.
If not for her, he would have just up and left—he had no reason to be a punching back.
