The Psychotic Girl’s Revenge

A man with pride ingrained in his bones returned on a refugee ship to save her.

“Miss, don’t be upset. Olivia, I’ll take good care of both of you. Once you and the young master recover from your injuries, you can live a peaceful life together,” Olivia comforted her.

Paige nodded, “Yes, I’ll take good care of him from now on.”

“That’s the right attitude.”

Olivia smiled in relief, then sighed, “Although I’ve always thought you were no ordinary person and should have your own place in the world, what you’ve been doing is too dangerous. Look at you now, you’ve been tortured so badly that you almost lost your life.”

Paige silently looked at her.

“If you ask me, Miss, you should let it all go. Forget about the slums and live a comfortable life as the young master’s wife,” Olivia advised.

Hearing this, Paige’s eyes dimmed. She forced a smile, bittersweet, “I won’t think about it anymore.”

In the future, she wouldn’t need to think about it.

Olivia assumed she had come to terms with it and was overjoyed, “It’s good that you’ve let it go. I just want you and the young master to live a happy life together, maybe even have a baby for me to take care of.”

That kind of life sounded so beautiful.

Paige looked at the smile on Olivia’s face, then lowered her head and drank a bowl of water. “I’ll go to the other room to wait for Dr. Clinton.”

The medical team would come down to see her soon.

…

*Knock knock.*

When the knocking came, Paige was sitting in front of the mirror, carefully cleaning the gunshot wound on her shoulder.

“Come in,” she called, adjusting her collar.

The door was pushed open.

Dr. Clinton walked in, carrying two large medical kits. He immediately saw Paige, pale, sitting there. The trash bin next to her was filled with blood-soaked cotton balls, piled high.

He couldn’t help but frown. The injuries upstairs and downstairs were all quite severe.

“How’s Enrico?” Paige asked, her lips drained of color.

“He hasn’t woken up yet. We don’t know the extent of Mr. Gustin’s internal injuries, so after the initial treatment, we’re conducting more detailed examinations,” Dr. Clinton said, placing down the medical kit.

“Then why are you here?” Paige frowned. She had thought Enrico had already woken up.

“Mr. Gustin ordered me to stand by as soon as we got off the ship. I was specifically prepared for you, Miss. Your injury needs immediate treatment; otherwise, I’m finished when Mr. Gustin wakes up,” Dr. Clinton explained, pulling up a chair to sit in front of her. “Don’t worry, as soon as the results are out, I’ll head back upstairs.”

“…”

Dr. Clinton had come for her.

Paige said nothing more, reaching to open her collar, pulling it down to expose the mangled wound on her arm. She asked, “He must have been beaten on the refugee ship. Do you think his bones are okay?”

Dr. Clinton froze, his breath catching. It took him a moment to regain his composure and answer, “From what I can tell, Mr. Gustin’s ribs and leg bones have some fractures. They’re examining them now.”

“So, did he pass out because the rib fractures caused internal damage?” Paige’s face darkened.

Both his ribs and leg bones were fractured, yet he had managed to stand so long in Gangnam Hall and even carried her? He was truly insane.

“If it had damaged his organs, he wouldn’t have just passed out. For now, Mr. Gustin’s vital signs are barely holding up,” Dr. Clinton explained. “He passed out because his entire body is severely bruised. Any ordinary person would have been beaten to death. His sheer willpower is what kept him going. In cases like this, the nerves stay taut, keeping him conscious, but once they relax, the body collapses. It’s normal.”

No wonder Enrico had enough strength to fight Rafael in Gangnam Hall, but passed out right after speaking to her in the car.

She had thought he had simply fallen asleep from exhaustion.

Since his vital signs were still stable, Dr. Clinton’s skills would surely be able to heal Enrico.

Paige breathed a slight sigh of relief, only to see Dr. Clinton taking out surgical tweezers, cotton balls, and a scalpel, looking troubled as he examined her wound. “When did you get this gunshot wound? How was it treated? Why has it worsened so quickly?”

“I was shot when I entered Gangnam Hall. The bullet has been removed. Has it worsened quickly?” Paige looked down at it. She felt nothing despite the mangled state.

“This wound is not just inflamed; it’s showing signs of starting to fester. Doesn’t it hurt?” Dr. Clinton was astonished. Anyone else with a wound like this would be in tears, yet she was calmly talking to him?

Who were these people, to not even feel pain?

One with a festering wound was calm, and another with broken bones could still walk and fight.

“At first, it hurt a lot, but then I took TP1314 for three days straight. The neural pain receptors were heightened, which actually increased my tolerance for pain. Now, I don’t really feel anything,” Paige said flatly.

“TP1314? What’s that?” Dr. Clinton asked, confused.

“It’s an interrogation drug that induces psychosis, making the person experience extreme pain, but leaves no physical trace once the effects wear off,” Paige explained.

Dr. Clinton frowned deeply, “I’ve heard of the extreme methods in Gangnam Hall, but I didn’t expect them to be so ruthless. Who knows what kind of long-term effects this drug might have on your body?”

“Once Enrico wakes up, have him get a sample from Rafael for you to study,” Paige suggested.

But to her, whether there were long-term effects didn’t matter. She was already living on borrowed time; surviving was enough.

“That’s a good idea,” Dr. Clinton nodded repeatedly, using tweezers to apply antiseptic to her wound.

Pain still seeped into the wound in waves, and Paige clenched her teeth.

*Knock knock.*

There was another knock on the door.

Someone called urgently from outside, “Dr. Clinton, you need to come upstairs quickly! Mr. Gustin’s blood pressure is suddenly rising uncontrollably, and he’s starting to talk nonsense and move erratically. Should we administer a sedative?”

“…”

Why did his blood pressure suddenly spike?

Paige pulled up her collar and pushed Dr. Clinton, “Don’t worry about me, just go up there.”

“…”

Dr. Clinton couldn’t worry about Paige any longer and hurriedly left.

Paige sat where she was, her slender fingers clenched into a fist. As she tightened her grip, more blood seeped from the wounds on her wrists, where the cuffs had rubbed against them.

He’ll be fine.Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

This thought lasted only a few seconds before Olivia’s panicked voice came from outside, “Miss, Miss, hurry and check on the young master! I fear he’s not doing well!”

Paige’s body stiffened at the words, her pupils constricted, and her mind went blank.

It wasn’t until Olivia burst through the door that Paige snapped back to reality. She stood up and ran out without a second thought.

She dashed upstairs, and as soon as she entered the room, the sounds of various medical machines created a chaotic symphony, unsettling everyone. A group of medical staff was gathered around the bed, trying to resuscitate him.

Someone glanced back and froze upon seeing Paige.

I-Isn’t this the death row inmate?

Paige ignored them, rushing to Enrico’s bedside. She saw him lying there, his face ashen, his eyes moving restlessly under closed lids, and his bloodstained lips muttering something. Dr. Clinton was injecting something into his arm.