While Buck and the others waited outside the room, it felt like time had slowed to a crawl—each minute dragging on like an eternity.
Every second stretched unbearably, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on them.
Arno was the pillar of the Long family. His death wasn't an option—they couldn't afford it.
So, the moment John opened the door, they rushed inside without hesitation.
But what they saw made their hearts sink.
Arno still lay motionless on the bed, the same as before. But something felt… wrong. Ominous.
As they approached, dread began to creep into their hearts.
Not only was Arno still immobile—but now, his heartbeat and breath were completely gone.
He was dead.
The hopeful expressions on the faces of the Long family members instantly collapsed.
Just like that, the air in the room turned suffocating—dark, heavy, and void of life.
A deathly silence consumed the space.
The only sounds were the ragged breaths of the Long family members, their eyes beginning to burn with rising fury.
"What the hell happened?"
Buck's fists clenched at his sides, and a terrifying aura erupted from his body—a Heaven Master's rage that thickened the tension in the room.
He roared—not at John—but at Sophia.
Sophia tried to speak, but her father's fury stunned her into silence. She stood there, aggrieved and frozen.
She knew exactly why he was yelling at her and not John. He didn't dare direct his anger toward John—Perry's disciple. So he vented it all on her.
This was Buck's way of showing John just how furious he was.
Earlier, outside the room, he had warned Brooke to be respectful—not to judge John's medical skills by his age.
He hadn't expected this situation to blow up in his face so quickly.
Now, Buck was drowning in grief, shame, and fury. Not only had he lost his father—but he'd also embarrassed himself.
Just as Sophia had guessed, Buck didn't have the balls to confront John head-on. So he lashed out sideways.
But if Buck's anger was barely restrained, Brooke made no such effort.
He stormed toward John, eyes bloodshot and voice shaking with rage.
**"You call yourself Perry's disciple? Then explain to me—**what the fuck happened to my father?! Did you kill him on purpose?!"
There was no ambiguity in his accusation.
Brooke was outright blaming John for Arno's death.
Maybe, just maybe, John wasn't who he claimed to be.
As Brooke yelled, the rest of the Long family turned their furious gazes on John—eyes filled with hatred, looking at him like he was a murderer.
Before the treatment, Arno had still been able to blink.
But after John got involved, not even a flicker of life remained.
So if it wasn't John… who else could be the cause?
But John remained calm in the face of their fury. His voice was cold, cutting.
"So just because I'm Perry's disciple, you assumed I could definitely save Arno?" he asked, his tone razor-sharp.
"He was already in critical condition. And now that he's dead—you think I'm to blame?"
"You... Then why the hell did you touch him at all if you weren't sure you could save him?!" Brooke screamed.
John scoffed.
"It's no different from a patient in surgery. The doctor says there's a 30% chance of survival—do you want the operation or not?"
Brooke's expression froze. His fury twisted into frustration, but he had no words.
He was too caught up in emotion to think clearly earlier. But now, faced with logic, he had nothing.
Arno had been at death's door. Expecting John to guarantee success just because he was Perry's disciple was fucking delusional.
There was no argument to make.
Brooke fell silent.
John chuckled bitterly.
"Here's some advice: instead of blaming me, start figuring out how you're going to hold your ground in Houston… now that Arno's gone."
The moment those words left his mouth, the atmosphere shifted.
Everyone's face changed.
Because deep down, they knew—Arno was their backbone in Houston.
Without him, their standing, their respect, their influence—it would all crumble.
The Long family might have no choice but to leave Houston altogether, forced to settle as minor tyrants in some second-rate city.
That thought alone was unbearable.
John's words cut deep—like a blade twisted in an open wound.
"You… You can't leave just yet," Brooke said stiffly. "Not until we've sorted everything out."
He didn't know what else to say. Even though John had a point, Brooke wasn't ready to let him go.
John didn't respond.
He just walked over to a chair and sat down calmly, his expression indifferent—as if to say:
"I've got nothing to hide. I'm not running."
Buck slowly came back to his senses. He took a deep breath, then turned to his daughter.
"Sophia, don't be mad at your dad. I… I was just overwhelmed."
Sophia bit her red lips, unwilling to speak.
Buck sighed and tried again. "I know you're upset. But I wasn't lashing out at you... not really."
He paused, then asked seriously:
**"Sophia, tell me the truth—**is that man really Perry's disciple?"
Even he couldn't help but feel some doubt.
Sophia stayed silent.
Buck's voice softened. "Sophia… please. I'm sorry I yelled. But your answer could affect the future of the entire Long family. Just tell me the truth."
He even said "please."
Despite her wounded pride, seeing the sincerity on her father's face made her heart soften.
"I swear," Sophia said. "Anita told me personally. If I'm lying—may I be struck by lightning—"
"Don't say that!" Buck quickly cut in, covering her mouth. "I believe you."
He knew Anita well. She wasn't the type to lie—especially not to the Long family.
After a long pause, Buck finally turned to John.
He walked up slowly, then bowed deeply.
"Mr. Lopez, I lost control earlier. I shouldn't have disrespected you."