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M: TSIA Chapter 66: The Hand of God
🕑 Added 2025-01-24 11:31:25 +0000 UTCStrange, known as "The Hand of God" by many of his patients, had a nearly unblemished reputation. However, it was not just because of Strange's extraordinary skills, but also due to the strategies he employed. Strange deliberately chose his patients, ensuring that only those with a clear chance of recovery would be accepted.
Patients who did not provide such chances would be referred to other doctors. In this way, Strange could ensure his success rate was nearly perfect, maintaining his high credibility and attracting more patients to him.
Christine looked at Strange with a light gaze, although deep down, there was a profound tension in her heart. "Stephen," Christine said calmly, "my credibility cannot be equated with money."
Lance smiled, as if he understood the depth of Christine's words. "Very well, Miss Christine," Lance said, "your blessings will come soon, and then... your destiny will be rewritten."
Christine was slightly taken aback by Lance's statement, but she only nodded slowly, unsure of what he truly meant. Meanwhile, behind Lance's mysterious words, there was a role waiting to be played—Lance would give Christine the White Lantern Ring, which would change her life and grant her the role of the first White Lantern Messenger.
However, that moment has not yet arrived. The location is not right for now.
Not only because of the overwhelming crowd, but also because of Strange—the arrogant man who continuously serves as an obstacle.
"You..." Strange glared at Lance with a look of utter disdain, his eyes filled with dislike. Lance's nose, Lance's eyes, everything about that man made Strange dislike him even more. The longer Strange observed, the stronger the urge to mock this man with his sharp tongue became. However, before Strange could utter a sarcastic comment, Lance's expression suddenly changed.
With a movement so quick and unexpected, Lance raised two fingers, and before Strange could react, Lance delivered a swift punch that landed squarely on Strange's body.
A strange sensation immediately coursed through Strange's entire body. It felt as if he were under the influence of total anesthesia—Strange's awareness remained intact, but his body completely lost control. Strange felt as if his body had frozen, unable to move, unable to speak. A sense of panic began to creep in, but Strange could do nothing but remain trapped in a paralyzing inability.
Strange's usual arrogant face was now filled with an unusual panic. His eyes widened, full of confusion, as if he were struggling to comprehend what had just happened. Strange's lips parted slightly, but not a single word came out. The figure of Strange, who usually radiated confidence, now appeared fragile.
On the other hand, Lance seemed indifferent. He merely glanced at Strange for a moment with a flat expression before turning around and pulling out a magical compass from his pocket. A dim golden light emanated from the compass, adding a magical aura to the small object. The compass needle vibrated slowly before stopping, pointing southeast.
"That direction..." Lance murmured softly, almost as if speaking to himself. "Long Island?"
Cristine, who was unaware of Strange's odd behavior, was instead captivated by the magical light of the compass. She gazed at it in awe before exclaiming, "What a beautiful compass!"
"Yes, a beautiful compass," Lance replied with a gentle smile, like a guide trying to calm the crowd. Lance then stood up, patted the still frozen Strange on the shoulder, and turned to Cristine. "I have something to do, so I need to leave for now. Don't worry about Strange; he's just feeling unwell. In an hour, everything will be back to normal."
Cristine looked at Strange with concern. "Stephen?" Cristine called out anxiously. She stepped closer, but Strange remained silent, not moving an inch.
Strange's face, usually so haughty, now bore an expression of inexplicable fear. Cristine grew increasingly anxious. "Stephen, what's wrong with you?"
Yet, Strange remained mute.
"Stephen, why aren't you speaking?" Cristine pressed again, this time with a more urgent tone.
Strange still did not respond. His silence was so oppressive, like an invisible wall separating him from the world.
Cristine bit her lip, and then she finally succumbed to her panic. "Hello, 911? Please send an ambulance to the New York Public Library as soon as possible. Someone here needs first aid!"
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Meanwhile, Lance paid no attention to the commotion happening behind him. He walked calmly to the book return desk, handing over two borrowed books with an air of nonchalance. After that, Lance promptly left the public library without looking back.
However, the light on Lance's magical compass had now vanished.
The object, although magical, could not always detect negative energy. Lance knew that the compass only worked when there was a burst of negative energy strong enough to emit a signal. With the light gone, Lance concluded that the user of the negative energy had entered a state of cessation. For now, the trace had disappeared—at least until the next explosion.
The devil in hell is known for being very good at hiding and sneaking around. Even if Lance rushed to the scene right now, he would likely only find a noisy crowd with no trace of the devil. The creature may have already completed its work and vanished without a trace.
Lance stood still for a moment, contemplating his next move. After ensuring there was nothing suspicious around, he stepped into a more concealed area to take out his invisibility charm. Quickly, Lance used the charm to avoid attention, then flew back home to change clothes.
No matter how slim the chances were, every time a "monster" appeared, Lance felt responsible for investigating it. He could not allow such creatures to encounter others without protection.
This time, Lance chose to wear a black raincoat—the outfit he had previously used while hunting the Ephra devil birds. This coat was not just an ordinary black coat; it was one of Lance's magical weapons.
Since leaving the Chamber of Taj, Lance had been trying to create his own magical weapons. Among all his creations, two wind-resistant cloaks, one black and one white, were the best. Both had remarkable resistance to physical and magical attacks.
