The Three Brothers and the old Daoist from the Mo Family checked into a hotel near the hospital.
Ming Disha checked into the presidential suite of an international five-star luxury, noble, exclusive, awesome, unbelievably badass... international hotel.
Rose and the old man stayed at Wealthy Official's residence.
Fatty Liu had recovered from his injuries, but he barely slept a wink all night.
He kept thinking it over, and the more he thought about it, the less reliable it seemed.
But Rose had not objected and seemed to tacitly approve; that old guy with the Lightness Skill appeared accustomed to this sort of thing; even Old Daoist Mo had guaranteed it, saying that if the surgery failed, he would be the first to kill all three of them, swearing it in the name of the Mo Family.
But... cutting it off, tinkering with it, then reattaching it... would fix it!?
It was not until dawn that Fatty Liu finally fell asleep.
He had barely slept for a while when he felt... pain.
It hurt more and more, until finally, with a zzip, Fatty Liu jolted upright from the agony.
Howling in pain, he looked down and saw that his pajama pants were covered in blood.
When he lifted his pants and looked, panic set in.
His head buzzed as he looked up and saw Ming Disha on the ceiling of his room.
"It's okay, it's okay!"
Ming Disha comforted him. "I was afraid you'd lose your nerve when the time came, so I cut it off for you first. Don't worry, I used a knife from your kitchen. I cut through your pants, but it was absolutely one clean cut—no dragging it out. Try getting out of bed and taking two steps."
Fatty Liu roared, "You old bastard! I'll fight you