Man With Super Medical Skill novel Chapter 3503

Redrod Dominic stood as pale as a ghost, his complexion drained of all color. His eyes brimmed with despair, wide with the crushing weight of impending doom.

On the elevated platform, one of his own subordinates stood defiantly, though his gaze betrayed raw, unrestrained hatred—hatred born from betrayal and hopeless desperation, fixed unflinchingly on Dominic.

Matthew turned his attention back to Dominic, his voice soft, almost like a whisper, yet each word carried a weight that seemed capable of breaking even the strongest resolve.

"Look," Matthew said, his tone laced with a biting edge of quiet mockery. "Even your own men want you dead."

He raised a single finger, pointing it directly at Dominic's trembling figure.

"In your next life," he murmured, his voice cold as steel, "don't bother coming back as a human. You're unworthy."

In an instant, an immense surge of inner energy erupted from Matthew's fingertip.

The air seemed to distort and crackle under its power, and a violent mist of blood erupted where Dominic had stood moments before.

The force obliterated him entirely, leaving behind only a gruesome crimson fog that hung heavily in the air.

By the time the blood mist began to disperse, Matthew had already moved to the far end of the platform, his white robe flowing with almost ethereal grace, as though untouched by the destruction he had wrought.

Redrod Dominic—gone.

The blood settled on the arena's dark, red-stained ground, deepening its sinister hue.

For a moment, the crowd sat frozen, silent, and wide-eyed, as if time itself had stopped. Then, the collective reality of what they had just witnessed began to sink in, and unease rippled through the audience like an invisible wave.

What was meant to be a life-and-death duel had been nothing but a cruel farce. Dominic's arrogance had blinded him to the true strength of his opponent.

In his hubris, he had challenged a force far beyond his comprehension, and that arrogance had cost him everything.

All eyes turned toward Matthew, who now stood at the center of the arena. His white robe, so pristine against the darkened stage, made him look almost otherworldly, like a figure from a forgotten legend. The oppressive silence among the spectators weighed heavily in the air.

Suddenly, a commanding voice shattered the tension. "The Governor's Keep is taking control of this arena! Nobody is to make a move!"

The declaration was followed by the swift arrival of soldiers from the Governor's Keep. Their polished weapons gleamed ominously under the lights as they fanned out, taking control of every corner of the arena. Guns, sleek and menacing, were aimed at the crowd, silencing even the faintest whispers of dissent.

"The Governor's Keep?" someone murmured in disbelief, their voice trembling. "What are they trying to do?"

Fear rippled through the audience, sharp and palpable.