In this suffocating wait, an hour felt as long as a century.
Finally, with a click, the emergency room doors opened.
The attending physician removed his mask, his face full of difficulty and apology, and had the nurses push out Lin Yang, whose face was deathly pale, devoid of life, and whose body had already begun to grow cold.
He glanced at the crowd gathering around him, shook his head helplessly, and sighed.
"Sorry, we did everything we could."
"The patient suffered multiple organ failure due to prolonged severe dehydration, compounded by a complete electrolyte imbalance... Please have the family sign the papers and make funeral arrangements..."
Though the doctor did not explicitly say he had been suffocated or pooped to death by gold, the implication was obvious.
For the past three days, Lin Yang had been in a state of artificial rainfall like a torrential storm, making any effective surgical intervention impossible.
Now that the rain had finally shown signs of stopping, he had passed away before they could even begin treatment...
"What?!"
"He's gone? The Dragon Lord is... gone?!"
Upon hearing this, the surrounding underlings were completely dumbfounded. One after another, they looked as though they had been struck by lightning, utterly unable to accept the reality.
They had never imagined that their newly appointed Dragon Lord—the powerful man who had cultivated bitterly in prison for years and declared his ambition to unify the Jiangnan underworld—would leave this world in such an absurdly bizarre manner.
His death was so strange, so... fragrant...
"Holy shit! Holy shit! The Dragon Lord actually pooped himself to death?!"
"Unbelievable! This way of dying... it's unprecedented and will never be surpassed!"
"No, is this even remotely reasonable? The Dragon Lord was a martial arts master! Even if he ate a ton of laxatives,