Home Sickly Cannon Fodder: Spoiled by the Powerful Apocalypse Bosses Chapter 275
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Chapter 275: Chapter 275

Bill retrieved his medical bag, pausing to shoot Aaron a heavy, meaningful look. Aaron caught the silent cue with a sharp nod, rising immediately to follow his brother out.

In the living room, Leonard, Thomas, and Liam sat in tense, expectant silence. The moment the bedroom door clicked open, the rich, pungent aroma of simmering medicine billowed into the apartment—a thick, earthy fragrance laced with a sharp undertone of bitterness.

All three men looked up, startled.

"Finished already?" Leonard asked, pushing himself up from the sofa.

Bill nodded. "There’s nothing more I can do for now. Just make sure he takes the decoction the moment it’s ready."

Suzy turned to Leonard and Thomas, her voice steady but exhausted.

"Uncle Leonard, Thomas, please stay here and keep an eye on Derek. I’ll walk the doctor downstairs."

Leonard opened his mouth, a protest lingering on his lips, but he caught sight of Liam standing up to join them and swallowed his words.

Liam would undoubtedly escort them to the lower floors anyway. Besides, someone needed to mind the brewing medicine while someone else guarded Derek. It made the most sense for him and Thomas to hold down the fort.

The four of them made their descent in quiet coordination. When they finally reached the landing outside Bill’s apartment, Suzy came to a halt.

"I’ll come visit you another day," she said, her gratitude entirely genuine.

"Sounds like a plan." Bill gave a terse, professional nod.

Aaron looked at her, a faint, surprisingly warm smile gracing his refined features. "You’re welcome anytime, Suzy."

After parting ways with the brothers, Suzy and Liam turned back to the stairs, climbing in silence until they reached the thirteenth floor. Outside Liam’s apartment, he hesitated, his footsteps slowing.

"Would you... like to see Noah?" Liam asked, his voice cautious, almost fragile.

Suzy paused on the step above him. A bitter, weary smile tugged at the corners of her lips, and she shook her head. "Not today, Liam. I need to get back."

Liam didn’t push. He knew exactly where her heart and mind were trapped; every ounce of her existence was currently anchored to the man dying in the bedroom upstairs.

Suppressing a quiet ache of disappointment, he forced a soft, reassuring nod. "Alright."

He paused, adding gently, "He’s going to pull through, Suzy."

Suzy offered him a grateful smile that didn’t quite reach her bloodshot eyes. "Thank you, Liam."

He stared at her, a thousand unspoken thoughts rushing through his mind, only to condense into a single, quiet sentence: "You don’t ever have to thank me."

For the first time, Liam truly understood the weight of what Suzy meant whenever she told him to drop the polite formalities. They were past that now.

"I should go," she murmured, turning to hurry up the remaining flights of stairs. Liam stood frozen on the landing, his gaze lingering on the empty stairwell long after the echo of her footsteps had faded.

The moment Suzy crossed her threshold, she went straight to Derek’s bedside. He remained dead to the world, showing not the slightest sign of consciousness.

With the medicine still simmering, there was nothing left to do but sit with the anxiety clawing ruthlessly at her chest. Two agonizing hours dragged by, each tick of the clock amplifying the silence, until the sharp chime of the kitchen timer sliced through the quiet.

Suzy and Thomas practically collided in the kitchen doorway. Without a word, Thomas moved with practiced efficiency, cutting the heat and carefully straining the dark, murky broth.

The freshly brewed liquid was scalding, sending up plumes of bitter steam. Sensing the urgency vibrating off Suzy, she didn’t hesitate—she materialized blocks of pure ice from her dimensional space, packing them around the bowl to force the temperature down. Every second counted.

The moment the brew was safe to touch, she rushed it back into the bedroom.

To her immense relief, feeding him was miraculously easy. The dark, bitter liquid slid smoothly down his throat. His Adam’s apple bobbed once, then twice, swallowing the medicine automatically. Then, he went still again.

Clutching the empty bowl to her chest, Suzy sank back into the chair, her eyes locking onto his pale visage.

Minutes bled into hours. She didn’t bother flipping the overhead switch; the small, amber glow of the bedside lamp was the only light fracturing the darkness. Its soft illumination rounded the sharp angles of Derek’s sleeping face, while mercilessly exposing the deep, harrowing exhaustion etched into hers.

She hadn’t slept a full hour in two days. Dark, bruised shadows stained the delicate skin beneath her eyes. Her hair was a tangled mess, loose strands falling across her cheeks every time she leaned forward.

She sat hunched over the mattress, enveloping Derek’s right hand within both of her own, her thumb absentmindedly sweeping across his knuckles over and over again.

His skin was still cool, but it no longer carried that terrifying, deathly chill. Every few minutes, she would press her palm to his forehead and then to her own, silently measuring the heat.

The door creaked open, and Leonard stepped inside carrying a steaming bowl of porridge. The sight of Suzy sitting in the exact same rigid posture made his chest tighten with a painful pang of sympathy.

"Suzy, you need to eat something."

Setting the bowl on the nightstand, Leonard leaned over to press the back of his hand to Derek’s forehead and neck. His eyes brightened. "I think the fever is finally breaking."

Suzy nodded, though her gaze never wavered from Derek’s face. "A little."

"A little is a start." Leonard pulled up a chair beside her, gently pushing the porridge forward. "Eat. I’ll watch him."

She shook her head weakly. "I’m not hungry, Uncle Leonard."

"You have to eat regardless," his tone sharpened with grandfatherly authority before he forced it to soften. "Look at yourself, child."

Only then did Suzy lift her head. Seeing the hollows in her cheeks and the sheer exhaustion dampening her usual sharp spark broke Leonard’s heart.

"Suzy, listen to me," he coaxed, his voice dropping to a gentle murmur. "I know you’re worried sick about him. We all are. But he’s taken the medicine now. He’s going to get better. You can’t let yourself collapse before he wakes up."

She remained silent, her fingers still locked tightly around Derek’s hand. The truth was, her throat felt constricted; the very idea of food made her sick.

Leonard let out a heavy sigh. Picking up the bowl, he scooped up a spoonful of the warm porridge, blew on it gently, and held it right to her lips.

"If I feed you like a child, will you finally take a bite?"

Suzy looked into his weathered face, seeing nothing but fierce, paternal devotion and anxiety for her well-being. Defeating her own stubbornness, she parted her lips.

The porridge was warm and perfectly prepared, yet it felt like swallowing glass. She managed to force down half the bowl before she shook her head, utterly unable to take another bite.

Leonard didn’t push her. He set the bowl aside and poured her a glass of warm water instead.

"Go get some rest," he ordered softly, placing the glass on the table. "Thomas told me you haven’t slept a wink. Let me take the night watch."

"I’m not tired."

And she meant it. Her nervous system was fried, her mind screamingly, painfully alert. She didn’t want the dark safety of sleep; she wanted to be right here, guarding the boundary between Derek and whatever darkness was trying to pull him under.

Leonard studied her bloodshot eyes and the unyielding set of her jaw. He knew a lost cause when he saw one.

With a defeated sigh, he settled back into his chair. He didn’t offer any more useless platitudes. He simply chose to share the burden.

"Then I’m staying right here with you."

The night deepened, wrapping the apartment in a profound, suffocating quiet. Derek still showed no signs of returning to them, but his skin remained blessedly clear of the violent flush of fever. Bill’s miracle root was doing its work.

So, they waited.

Whenever the crushing weight of fatigue threatened to drag her under, Suzy would covertly take a sip of her spirit spring water.

The mystical fluid sharpened her frayed mind, but it couldn’t erase the physical toll of deprivation. The red veins in her eyes multiplied, and a deep, bone-aching weariness settled into her joints.

Then, just as an uncontrollable yawn parted her lips, the air in the room seemed to shift.

Against her palm, Derek’s fingers gave a sudden, distinct twitch.

Suzy froze, her breath catching in her throat. She stared down, wondering if her sleep-deprived mind was finally hallucinating.

It wasn’t.

A second later, his thick eyelashes trembled violently.

"Derek?" Her voice was a cracked, breathless whisper.

His eyelids fluttered again, fighting a heavy invisible weight, and then—they snapped open.

Those striking amber eyes were clouded, swimming with deep confusion. For several agonizing seconds, his gaze drifted aimlessly across the ceiling, unfocused and blank. But slowly, the fog began to clear. His pupils contracted, sharpening with sudden awareness.

And the very first thing they anchored onto was Suzy.

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