Chapter 978
Although the dozen over security guards were wearing uniforms, their boorish speech made it clear that they were just some street thugs. Frank slowly looked up at them as they charged inside, growling, “You have five seconds. Get out of here, or I won’t hold back.”
“Shit, we have a cocky one!” The security guard leader leapt up at him, stun baton raised.
“Hmph.”
Frank really did not have the time to waste with these thugs.
Nash was still on the operating table, groaning softly in pain and in need of medical attention.
Leaping up right then, Frank knocked out the security guard with the side of his palm, and the guard was sent rolling as he eyes rolled up in its sockets.
Bzzt…
Frank had grabbed the first security guard’s stun baton before he was sent flying and shoved it at the next closest security guard, leaving him convulsing as black smoke billowed.
“Out!” Frank bellowed and kicked the security guard into another.
More kept coming, however, and Frank did not hold back.
Crack.
Thud.
Wham.
He darted between them like a lightning bolt as he took them all down in under thirty seconds.
The doctors who were peeking from the hallway were left gaping-every security guard who had such pompous moments was on the floor, rolling around and screaming like gutted pigs.
Many of them were still suffering from electric shocks, their tongues hanging out creepily.
“Take them with you and leave!” Frank then bellowed at the only security guard left standing.
However, the security guard promptly fled the operating room, whipping out his phone as he did.
“J-Just you wait! You’ve really done it now, messing with us on Sorano turf!”
Frank did not chase after him.
Instead, he kicked every incapacitated bodyguard out of the operating room before slamming the doors shut with a bang and striding to the operating table.
The doctors who were chased out earlier looked in through the glass out at the hallway, watching him in shock. “The hell is he doing? Surgery…?” Dr. Brent leaned against the glass even as he watched reluctantly in exasperation.
“No anesthetic? Amazing. Surgery, my foot.” Dr. Jomer snorted in disdain beside him.
The other doctors all nodded in agreement in their opinion, administering anesthetic was an essential part of surgery.
“Wait, isn’t that…” Dr. Brent then appeared shocked as Frank took out a set of needles. “Are those for acupoint needles? Is he applying Draconian traditional medicine?”
“Pfft…”
Dr. Jomer was smacking his thigh as he laughed out loud. “Draconian traditional medicine?! You saw the patient’s condition, chief! He needs surgery to live, but that brat would bring needles for Draconian traditional medicine? Oh, you’re killing me!”
“You don’t get it,” Dr. Brent murmured as he watched Frank work at the operating table. “I’ve heard that the real thing could raise even the dead. The kid just might-”
“Come on, chief. Did you lose your marbles?” Dr. Jomer snorted again. “Get a better look at the patient. Even Abel Loggins can’t do much for him if he were here.”
