“No need to send him to the hospital. The best doctors in Central City are here. Come on, someone treat him.”
“We’ve all diagnosed the same patient, and we all decided on a prescription similar to that of Dr. Nolan.”
“Then go find Mr. Socrates to treat him.”
Everyone kept speaking, and Jerome was anxious. If the patient died, it would be really troublesome.
At that critical moment, another subordinate ran over. He was holding a spittoon, and he walked over with a look of disgust. “Dr. Mayo’s medicine has been processed.”
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