Wrong marriage and sweet love (Joyce and Luther)
Chapter 1965: The Words Of A Dying Man

Chapter 1965: The Words of a Dying Man

She didn't know how long she had been standing there.

Until her legs went numb, and the weight of her heavy belly made it impossible to continue.

Joyce took a few steps back and sat down on the cold chair.

Dr. Jocelyn's words echoed in her ears, and she felt a wetness in the corner of her eyes, initially unnoticed. It wasn't until this wetness trailed down her neck, chilling her, that she realized she was crying. To be strong was not an easy feat.

"Colonel, would you like to go in and see Mr. Warner? He's still not awake, it might be a while. Maybe an hour, maybe two or three hours. Are you going in to wait? Or would you prefer to wait in the adjacent lounge?"

At that moment, a doctor emerged from inside and respectfully inquired.

Because this was a hospital under the warlord's jurisdiction, they addressed Joyce directly by her military rank.

Joyce heard the voice from above, turned her head, and quietly wiped away the tear stains.

When she looked up again, she had regained her composure. "No, I'll wait here."

She didn't want to go in now. In case Luther woke up, she didn't want him to see her fragile and unable to cope, not wanting him to worry anymore.

"Alright, Colonel, would you like a glass of water?" The doctor asked again.

"No, you go ahead." Joyce waved her hand, motioning for the doctor to leave.

"Alright." The doctor took a few steps forward, then hesitated and came back, reminding Joyce, "Colonel, if you need anything, I'll go prepare the adjacent lounge for you. This is the entrance to the emergency room, there may be other relatives coming in and out later on. It might disturb you."

"I understand." Joyce nodded, not saying anything else. She didn't want to move for the time being.

The doctor seemed to understand what was on her mind, sighed, and left.

Joyce continued to sit there, propping her chin with both hands, lost in thought.

After a while.

With a sudden rush of footsteps, more doctors and family members arrived, bringing in patients in urgent need of medical attention.

As the emergency room door opened, the doctors ushered the patients inside, closing the door behind them.

Two minutes later, another group arrived, bringing in another patient.

The area in front of the emergency room suddenly became crowded.

The hospital was like this, bustling every day, constantly showcasing the drama of life and death, with some laughing and some grieving, each family having its own story.

Joyce watched them in front of her, some anxious, some worried, some discussing, and she felt even more disturbed in her heart.

Already feeling unsettled, she couldn't bear to witness the comings and goings of life and death of others.

Just as Joyce was about to stand up and move to the adjacent lounge.

She suddenly overheard a conversation among several family members.

"You all need to be mentally prepared, this time Grandpa is probably really not going to make it. When he was brought in, the doctor just told me, his organs have failed. It's probably beyond saving."

"I understand, Grandpa has been battling lung cancer for four years since first getting sick. He managed to come back from death's door the first two times, but this time might be different. It's all right, every extra year he lived was already a gift from heaven. We spent a lot of money treating his illness over the years, it's the least we can do for him."

"Why should we feel sad? Ever since Grandpa fell ill, his temper has become increasingly irritable, always scolding us. No matter what we do, serving tea, water, or food, taking care of him, he never once gave us a smile."

"Oh, he's just an irritable patient. At the end of cancer, it's mainly cancer pain. His days are not easy, the pain comes from all over, and painkillers don't work. How can he have a good temper? Look at how he worked his whole life, making money to support a big family. Let's not dwell on it."

"Speaking of which, it's true, Grandpa was always stingy. He carefully hid his money, no one knows where it is. Last night, Grandpa suddenly confessed to Mom, admitting to his mistakes when he was young. When Dad was not sick, he had an affair, and gave a lot of money to the other woman. Mom knew about it, endured it for us all along. Last night, Grandpa sincerely apologized to Mom."

"Really? Did Grandpa have an awakening? He was so stubborn his whole life, never admitting his mistakes."

"Really, I was right outside, and I heard it clearly."

"Perhaps he had a premonition, knowing his time was short, that's why he said those words before passing away."

"Oh, now that you mention it, something just came to mind. Before Grandpa lost consciousness, he kept tightly holding my hand. He mumbled a string of numbers. Let me think, how did he say it?"

"At first, I didn't pay attention, thinking he was speaking nonsense. Oh, I remember now. 324978!! It's this string of numbers. Given what you all said, Grandpa had a remorseful heart. Could it be that, before losing consciousness, he was telling me his bank account password?"

"Yes! It must be the password! I know Grandpa hid a lot of money, and no one knows his account password. I never thought he would reveal it to you before losing consciousness. It seems he wanted Mom and us to have that money, to prevent it from being taken by outside women."

"Finally, Grandpa did something right."

"Oh. No wonder they say, the words of a dying man are good."

"That's right."

What Joyce overheard was just an ordinary and mundane conversation.

She could have ignored it.

But, somehow.

It brought back distant memories for her.

She remembered the scene of Otis dying in front of her.

Athena shooting Otis from the helicopter.

Otis was hit by several bullets, and the blood dyed the sea red.

Although she tried desperately to bandage him, the wounds were too numerous and too deep, the blood kept flowing and couldn't be stopped.

Otis struggled to speak.

When she asked, "What do you want to say?"

Looking back now, Otis almost used up all his strength to say those last few words and took his final breath.

"East, 53..."

Immediately after, his arms dropped heavily, never to rise again, without closing his eyes.

She always thought Otis hadn't finished speaking, not understanding what he meant.

In the end, she never found out what Luther had been drugged with. She never asked about the third-party forces, who they were, and their relationship with Rohomes. But, the conversation she overheard just now suddenly inspired her!

Exactly!! The words of a dying man are good!!

Before Otis died, he must have wanted to reveal the most important information to her!!

So, what was it?

Suddenly, Joyce's eyes lit up, as if illuminated by the brightest light.

Could it be??!!

Yes!! It was what she had been looking for!! Microbiological coding!!!

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