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Novel Catalog
Chapter 83: Playing Tricks with Mr. Yarwood
Harry hesitated, a frown furrowing his brow. “Electrocardiogram? Is it really that serious? It only happens once in a while…”
“You must go,” Wynter insisted, handing him a business card. “Or you can come to the Empathy Clinic at Waterview Alley.”
He took the card, still muttering under his breath as they began to walk away.
By now, the two of them had already descended the mountain and were walking quickly, their steps confident and familiar, as if they knew the mountain paths better than Harry, who had made many trips up and down.
Wolf, on the other hand, was reluctant to head home, especially after hearing about the wolves. His excitement was palpable, his eyes gleaming with curiosity.
Wynter, seeing his restlessness, picked him up effortlessly and tossed him onto the back seat of the scooter. She placed the black-red helmet on his head. “Take the bag,” she instructed.
He sat upright, eager, and nodded, “Mm!”
“You can come back another day,” she added as she started the scooter, her black hair whipping behind her in the wind. Despite the smooth motion, there was a subtle weariness to her face. “It’s 4:30 AM. Grandma will wake up at 6:00 and call us for breakfast.”
Wolf gestured happily, asking if she would sleep at the clinic.
Wynter leaned over the handlebar, her gaze distant as she responded quietly, “I’ll be there for a few days.”
With a firm hand on the throttle, she drove the BMW Tomahawk with practiced ease. Wolf held the large black bag, made from some durable material that seemed resistant to wear. They sped away from the highway and into the stillness of the early morning.
Meanwhile, at the most luxurious hotel in Southdale, the Caesar Hotel, Dalton was in the middle of a tense briefing with the Special Operations Team.
The team had been investigating for hours, and it seemed they were finally closing in on something. Ethan, a sharp-eyed member of the team, spoke up. “Sir, we found it!”
Dalton, though, remained unmoved, his gaze indifferent. He had clearly not been getting much rest. “What did you find?”
Ethan hesitated for a moment before answering. “It’s not far from the city center—about 20 kilometers out. After the highway, head north…” He trailed off, uncertainty creeping into his voice. “A wild mountain?”
Dalton’s expression didn’t change, but he stood up abruptly from the sofa.
“Mr. Yarwood?” Keith, another team member, spoke up, though he didn’t hold out much hope for a lead. Despite his doubts, he hoped Yarwood might have something to add. He fiddled absentmindedly with a beaded bracelet. “Can we go check it out?”
Dalton’s tone turned cold. “Just back off for now,” he said, dismissing the suggestion with finality.
Keith seemed reluctant but ultimately complied, stepping back. There wasn’t much to do. Fortunately, the Gibsons’ evidence was solid, and their main task wasn’t about finding the informer—although, truthfully, they had no idea who the informer even was. The other party was playing tricks on them, keeping them in the dark.
Back on the mountain, Harry was still out there, scanning the mushrooms with his flashlight. But suddenly, a wave of dizziness hit him. His chest tightened, and he found himself struggling to breathe.
He patted his chest, sitting down to catch his breath. It wasn’t long before he remembered Wynter’s warning.
“If you keep picking mushrooms, make sure to stop if you feel bad. Don’t push yourself.”
Normally, Harry would have ignored the dizziness, stubbornly waiting for the mushrooms to appear, but not today. He took a slow sip of water, focusing on stabilizing his breathing. After a few minutes, he decided to head down the mountain carefully, not daring to ignore the signs of distress his body was showing.
Once he had signal on his phone, he quickly checked his symptoms online. What he read made his blood run cold. If he had kept pushing himself, he would have fainted from a lack of blood supply to his heart. And worse, there was a risk he might not wake up from it.
Harry broke into a cold sweat, his body trembling with fear. He was lucky. He was lucky he had met those two children.
His hand reached into his pocket, pulling out the business card Wynter had given him. He stared at it for a moment, reading the clinic’s name once more. Empathy Clinic at Waterview Alley. He wasn’t sure what it would lead to, but one thing was certain: he needed to take care of himself.
