Chan called out several times, but no one responded.
Panicking, he rushed out of the room. Nurses and doctors were running around, too busy to notice him. No one paid him any attention.
He hurried to the receptionist on the sixth floor.
"Hello, ma'am, please—I need a doctor. Something is happening to my mom," Chan said, his voice shaking.
"Hold on, I'll try to get a doctor," the receptionist replied.
"I've been trying to get their attention, but no one is listening to me," Chan said anxiously.
"What room?" she asked.
"Room 456," Chan answered immediately.
She picked up the phone and made several calls, but no doctor responded.
"Come with me," she said.
Chan followed her back into the room. She quickly checked his mother's pulse and heart rate.
Everything seemed normal at first.
Chan knew his mother's condition was unstable—it could rise or drop at any moment. Someone was supposed to always be with her.
The receptionist placed her stethoscope against his mother's chest.
"…Her heartbeat is slowing down," she said, her tone turning serious.
"O-Oh my God… is she going to be okay?" Chan asked, panic rising in his chest.
"Mr. Chan."
A voice called from behind.
Chan turned and saw the doctor who had been treating his mother.
"Sorry for the delay," the doctor said. "We had an emergency with an important patient. Most of the staff were attending to it. It's under control now."
"Thank God you're here. Please, check on my mom—I think something is wrong," Chan said urgently.
The doctor walked closer, his expression cold.
"Mr. Chan, you know your mother's condition requires constant attention—and money. Her bills are becoming too much for us to continue treatment."
Chan lowered his head.
"I'll check on her now," the doctor continued, "but you need to keep your promises. If not, I won't be able to keep attending to her."
"I understand, sir," Chan said quietly. "I'll sort everything out. Please continue her treatment—I promise I'll make it up to you."
The doctor sighed.
"You've been saying that for months, and I'm getting tired of it," he said bluntly.
Chan clenched his fists.
"I know, sir. You've already done a lot for me… but please, try to understand. Life hasn't been easy. I can't keep explaining my struggles—no one has time to listen to failures," he said, frustration visible on his face.
Without waiting for a reply, Chan walked to his mother's bedside, kissed her gently on the forehead, and left the room.
He went straight to the receptionist desk.
"Sign here and here, please," she said, pointing at the documents.
Chan signed silently and walked away.
As he reached the hospital's main exit, his phone beeped.
It was Lee.
The address had already been sent.
Chan stared at his phone for a few moments, thinking deeply. But there was no other option.
He took a deep breath.
"The next time I come here… I'll pay everything," he muttered to himself.
Determined, he stepped outside.
Chan hailed a cab and headed to the address.
On the way, his thoughts raced.
What kind of job is this?
Will I have to hurt someone… or take what isn't mine?
The cab suddenly stopped.
"We're here," the driver said.
Chan looked up.
It was a mini club.
He stepped out and saw Lee standing outside with a few girls. Chan waved.
"Hey, Lee!" he called.
"Hey, man—you're here," Lee replied with a grin.
The cab driver honked.
"Uh… Lee, can I get some money to pay for the ride?" Chan asked awkwardly.
"Yeah, hold on," Lee said, handing him some cash.
After paying, Lee led Chan inside and made him sit.
"So… have you thought about it properly?" Lee asked. "There's no going back. Your first job determines how you'll be treated here."
"…I'm ready," Chan replied, though his voice trembled.
Lee smirked.
"You don't look ready. You still look scared," he said. "I'm warning you now—don't disappoint me. Follow me."
Chan stood up and followed him through a door into another room.
He froze.
Tables were stacked with piles of cash.
Half-dressed women wearing gloves operated counting machines rapidly, while security cameras covered every corner.
It was clear—no one could steal without being caught.
And the punishment?
Death.
Chan swallowed hard as they walked toward the boss's office.
Inside, the atmosphere was even worse.
Several muscular men stood around, armed with guns.
A lifeless body lay on the floor.
Chan's heart nearly stopped.
What have I gotten myself into?
He forced himself to stay calm and followed closely behind Lee.
Then he saw the boss.
A large, bald man covered in tattoos from head to toe, holding a cigar in one hand and a gun in the other. Cash was piled all over his desk.
"Hey, Lee. You're here," the boss said.
"Yes, boss. This is my friend, Chan—the one I told you about," Lee replied.
The boss looked Chan up and down.
"So this is him? And you're telling me he won't mess things up?" he said mockingly. "He looks weak."
Lee laughed.
"He's not weak, boss. He's strong and hardworking. You can trust him."
The boss leaned forward.
"So… are you ready, young man? I'm sure your friend has explained how things work here."
"Yes… I'm ready, sir," Chan said, trying not to stutter.
The boss chuckled.
"He still looks scared. If anything goes wrong, you'll take the punishment," he said, pointing at Lee. "You know how things work here."
"Don't worry, boss. He's good," Lee assured him.
"Hmm… we'll see," the boss replied. "I'll inform you when a job comes in. For now, he must drop his phone number and home address before leaving."
"Sure, boss," Lee said with a forced smile.
One of the men handed Chan a form.
"Fill this out," the boss said. "Bring it to my table when you're done. Take your time—read the terms carefully."
Chan nodded and walked to the table. He sat down and began filling out the form.
Suddenly
The boss grabbed his hand.