Rising from the Ashes BY Only For You

Mosby did not take the cup because he was afraid. Seeing this, Andrew ran out of patience and shoved the poisoned concoction straight into his hands.

Mosby nearly burst into tears. "Andrew, d-don't touch me!"

However, Andrew ignored him completely. After handing over his poison, he casually reached for the one Mosby had prepared.

Then, with a chilling grin, he raised his glass toward Mosby. "Cheers!"

Mosby held Andrew's poison in trembling hands, his entire body shaking. "Andrew, are you really planning to die with me?"

Andrew shook his head. "No. I'm sending you off. Trust me, if I'm playing this game with you, then there's only one ending-you're the one who dies."

With that, he raised his glass and tilted it toward his lips.

Mosby did not move. Deep down, he was banking on Andrew's death—if the kid dropped, victory was his.

Just right as Andrew's lips touched the cup, he paused, lowered it, and gave Mosby a smirk full of wicked amusement. "What's going on? I'm already ready to toast—don't tell me you're chickening out now. If you're too scared, go ahead and surrender. I might even be kind enough to let you walk away."

Mosby snapped, "I'll drink it! I'm drinking now!"

the murky liquid Andrew had handed him, cold sweat poured down his

plan Preston and Clifford mentioned-saving him in time? Total bullshit. He knew those two old

the arena held their breath-Andrew had taken the lead and downed a small sip from

calmly set the cup down. "The taste is a bit odd...

wine, Mosby felt his world collapse. 'What the hell? Why's he still standing? Is he immune to poison? How

Mosby's hands shook violently, and some of the poison sloshed over the rim, dripping

shattered in an instant. The cup slipped from his

drink

before collapsing

knees hitting the stone

with a dull thud.

marble. If he drank

arena erupted into the loudest roar yet, and everyone stood,

Grand Medical Summit... Andrew Lloyd! Congratulations!" Preston and Clifford had to muster every ounce of energy just to get the words out. Their wrinkled faces were stiff with rage and humiliation, but there was nothing

Mosby's shoes, they would

Andrew, roaring, "That drink wasn't even

drank was prepared by Dr. Lake in

"Then how the hell is Andrew still standing? I don't know what kind of trick this is, but that