The Great Medical Saint (Matthew)

Chapter 758

Anson jolted in fear as he cried out, "D-Don't kill me! I'm with the Fuller family. You can't do this-"

The Nightwrath sword was drawn from its sheath. With a swish, the sword flashed as blood splattered onto the ground. The blade of the Nightwrath sword sank into Anson's skull but got jammed halfway and wouldn't budge any further.

Matthew knitted his brows together. It appeared that the Nightwrath sword wasn't as sharp as he thought. So, he yanked the sword hard, pulling it out of Anson's head. Then, he glanced up at the tenth floor.

Watching the scene unfold outside the window, Lyndon felt his legs trembling as he peed his pants. He gave up on jumping down the building as he tossed the curtains aside. He just sat there on the ground, in a daze. After a moment, he snapped out of it and slapped himself twice.

A wave of regret washed over him. He wished he hadn't fought for the position to lead the Fuller family. He wouldn't be meeting his end here if that were the case.

Recalling how Matthew had brutally swung his sword at Anson, Lyndon quickly whipped out his phone and called Clement. "Clement."

Seeing that it was Lyndon on the line, Clement picked it up with a snarky tone. "You're becoming the head of the Fuller family soon, Lyndon. Just come back to the Fuller residence in Mistvale City. Why are you still calling me? Are you trying to show off to me about how you killed Matthew?"

breath, Clement. I need to tell you something, so listen up

get Matthew. That's a bold move and way out of

hold on. "I'm the one getting burned alive, and I

Have The Fate Order and The Misfortune's Veil call off their assassins. He's

flames burst into the room, catching his hair on fire. "My hair..." he cried "Matthew has already taken down Anson Ouch! That

to Lyndon's words coming through the phone. It was meant to be a warning, but it sounded like a ghostly wail, like something straight out of a horror movie. Fear gripped his heart, his muscles tensing up and his hair standing on

Lyndon were rivals.

use one another as a stepping stone. But now, Clement felt terrible and couldn't help but

by. Five minutes

Sweat

At that point, he