Now, those same medics were inside the operating room, lending their expertise. After all, they were elite field doctors—trained to work in the chaos of warzones, treating both soldiers and civilians under pressure.


    Their experience in rapid on-site diagnosis and managing gunshot wounds and trauma injuries made their insights invaluable.


    Fortunately, the hospital staff weren’t too prideful to listen. Instead of brushing off Hera’s medics, the doctors paid close attention to their input. Perhaps it was because working alongside the renowned genius Zhane had already humbled them.


    Over time, they had learned to set aside arrogance, recognizing that true skill isn’t always worn on ab coat or disyed in a pristine office. Experience came in many forms—and right now, it was saving lives.


    Besides, Hera’s medics looked more like battle-hardened soldiers than traditional doctors. With their well-trained, intimidating physiques and the aura of people who’d stared death in the face, no one in the hospital dared to mess with them.


    Even the most arrogant doctors knew better than to run their mouths—no one wanted to end up getting lifted by the cor and tossed aside like dead weight.


    These weren’t your average medics. They were field doctors who had served on the front lines, where survival meant more than just medical knowledge.


    To keep up with the soldiers and to ensure they could protect both themselves and their patients, they had trained alongside the military—physically, mentally, and tactically.


    In warzones, chaos ruled, and bullets didn’t discriminate. They had to be ready for anything.


    It was no surprise that the medics exuded the same intimidating presence as the soldiers they worked with. Their imposing, battle-tested demeanor made them just as fearsome in the operating room as on the battlefield.


    Right now, everyone in the operating room was on their best behavior, giving their all because those medics felt more like supervisors overseeing their work. Each move was scrutinized, every action measured.


    Yet, through it all, Zhane remained unfazed—calm,posed, and focused as he carefully opened the wound to extract the bullet lodged inside.


    On Liz’s side of the IGI Expressions Competition, after the judges called for a break and sent everyone to rest while they deliberated, the panel reviewed the top contestants who had made a strong impression with their potential.


    Each judge cast their vote to finalize the rankings before handing their verdict to the host. After an hour-long break, the room began to fill once again.


    This time, however, there seemed to be an influx of reporters and spectators—likely drawn in by the live broadcast, which had sparked even more interest in thepetition and the excitement surrounding it.


    Liz was called over to her father’s side, who had been questioning her about what was going on. Standing beside her was Larry Wickman, who had remained at the venue throughout the event.


    He made sure to stay close, prepared to address any issues that might arise. After all, his young miss had entrusted him with this important responsibility, and it was directly tied to her name, reputation, and growing fame.


    Larry knew that Hera was working hard to establish herself and prove herpetence to the world, especially as she prepared to take her rightful ce as the heir to the Avery family.


    "Sweetheart, what’s going on? How did youe to know such an incredible designer? And why didn’t you recruit her to ourpany if you’re so close and even representing her work? I really don’t understand what’s going on in your head..." Liz’s father asked, tugging at his hair in frustration.


    While he knew Liz was trying to build a friendship with the designer she mentioned, he couldn’t help but feel that it was a missed opportunity not to bring such a talented person into theirpany, especially before the world discovered her.


    At the same time, he understood that simply being associated with such a talented designer was enough to elevate theirpany’s reputation, potentially attracting more business.


    However, he couldn’t help but feel that being tied to a designer’s sess was one thing, but actually bringing them into thepany was another matter entirely. Hiring her would mean direct financial gain and free marketing.


    As a businessman, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this opportunity was slipping through his fingers, and it tore at him. Liz, however, simply rolled her eyes, fully aware that her father was being overly dramatic as usual.


    Seeing her reaction, her father’s anger red, and he reached out, pinching her ear with a firm grip, causing Liz to wince in pain. "D-Dad, I’m sorry! I was wrong!"


    "What exactly are you wrong about?"


    "I shouldn’t have rolled my eyes..." Liz quickly reached up to tap his hand still gripping her ear, and only then did her father release it. Liz bit her lip, pouting. "That was really mean of you."


    "Mean? Who’s being mean?" Her father red at her, his hand hovering ominously as if ready to pinch her ear again. Liz instinctively flinched, guarding her ear.


    "Me! It was me!" Liz quickly confessed.


    Watching the exchange, Larry Wickman chuckled, finding Hera’s new friend both amusing and intriguing.


    Hearing Larry’s soft chuckle, Liz turned to him, mortified. Her face flushed red—she had just embarrassed herself in front of a handsome and aplished man like Larry Wickman.


    Who didn’t know who he was?


    A prominent figure in the industry, Larry was highly sought after by many firms, yet he served as the acting President of the Avery’s Legal Team—an already prestigious and intimidating title.


    Everyone envied him. After all, it was no secret that the Avery family paid generously. Liz imagined his annual sry easily reaching the millions,plete with a sleek apartment in the heart of the city and a luxury car to match.


    He was living the dream many only fantasized about. And to top it all off—he was handsome.


    <i>’Wait... did I just call him handsome twice?’</i> Liz cringed inwardly, bowing her head to hide her growing embarrassment. ’<i>Shit! What kind of first impression is this?!’</i>


    Liz shot her father a wronged, using nce, her eyes turning slightly red with frustration. All he could think about was snatching a talented designer for hispany—so much so that hepletely failed to notice who was standing right next to her.


    If he realized it was ’<i>Larry Wickman’</i>, he’d probably be over the moon, shaking his hand with both of his like he’d just won the lottery.


    And knowing her dad, if he had recognized Larry, he’d probably be pushing Liz to get to know him better—or worse, trying to sell her off on the spot just to make Larry his future son-inw.


    But s, her father was doing a terrible job ying matchmaker right now, and Liz could only cringe from the sidelines as her thoughts consumed her.


    Still, setting that thought aside, Liz found herself slipping into deep contemtion. How did Hera even know Larry Wickman?


    Before Hera left earlier, she’d mentioned having a n so she wouldn’t have to back out of thepetition.


    Then, not long after Hera drove away, Liz received a message from her—with Larry Wickman’s contact attached. She hadn’t even gotten the chance to reach out because, before she could act, Larry had already called and told her he was on the way to the venue.


    Liz waspletely dumbfounded—everything happened so fast. Before she could even process it, Larry was already standing in front of her, dressed in a custom-made suit that made him look polished, powerful, and unmistakably expensive, briefcase in hand.


    Without missing a beat, he got straight to work, following Hera’s instructions to the letter. It was as if he’d brought an entire office with him, efficiently preparing the necessary documents on the spot.