"Mr. Atticus, come quick! Something's wrong with him!"

Mr. Atticus rushed over to check on the man, but before he could even start, he heard several more thuds as people collapsed around him.

It was chaos-several people were on the ground, frothing at the mouth and convulsing uncontrollably. Panic spread like wildfire.

Mr. Atticus was at a loss, overwhelmed by the sheer number of people needing help. He knelt beside the nearest man, trying to get a sense of his pulse.

The man's pulse was erratic, his breathing all over the place. Even Mr. Atticus couldn't figure out what was wrong.

"Cough, cough, cough!"

More people collapsed, not just frothing at the mouth this time, but their faces turning a horrible shade of purple as if they were suffocating.

A collective gasp echoed through the crowd. "Mr. Atticus, what's happening? What's wrong with them?" they urgently asked.

cut through the tension, "Well, well, all these folks were treated by you, weren't they, Mr. Atticus? How come they were fine before, but now they're like this? Could it be

full of schadenfreude, eyes gleaming with

had mentioned he couldn't cure these people. Now, with this unfolding disaster, it seemed obvious that Mr. Atticus's lack of skill had turned saving lives into taking them. Lance's words hung in the air, casting a deadly silence over the

were all treated by Mr.

it really

several steps back without

treated by Flora were perfectly fine, as lively as ever. They felt a wave of relief, glad to

something! What's going on

collapsed, it became clear that everyone Mr. Atticus had treated was affected.

"Mr. Atticus, do something!"

"Hurry up!"

vanished. How could they trust him when he seemed to be killing

eyes red, cradled the convulsing man on the ground and turned to

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