Inside a VIP room at a private hospital, Myanmar.
The steady cadence of the heartbeat monitor echoed through the space, synchronized with the rhythm ticking of a clock. Even though there were six big men inside the room, it was so silent that even a pin drop could be heard.
Every pair of eyes was focused on the man on the bed whose face was covered by an oxygen mask, tracking down the gentle rise and fall of the man's chest with a somber look on their faces.
"Damn it!" a frustrated curse broke the silence. "I never thought that… the day we met again would be like this…"
Huang Zhiyan let out a heavy exhale, his fingers twitching with the urge to smoke. "Let's not brood," he chimed in with a casual tone to lighten the atmosphere. "Haven't Old Chen told us that it's already a blessing for him to survive? We should be grateful instead that we have the chance to see him again."
