Derek nodded with satisfaction. "Andrew really didn't let me down!" Chantelle, for once, seemed impressed. "Yeah, his personality sucks, but his medical skills are definitely legit!" Preston and Clifford, however, just sneered. "Sure, he's got some skills, but this is where it ends. In our field, we'd say he's got a little something, but not much!" Chantelle quietly cursed at them, annoyed by their condescending attitude. Those two old fools from the Advanced Medical Institute clearly had their hopes pinned on Mosby. Naturally, they did not want to see Andrew keep blazing through the rounds. On the spectator side, Christina shifted uncomfortably, debating whether to leave again. The higher Andrew climbed, the more she felt crushed, humiliated, and defeated. Yara, on the other hand, clapped with excitement. "Great! Go ahead and leave! I can cheer for Andrew all by myself!" Quinton could not hold back anymore and snapped, "Yara, stop pushing it! Shut up, you hear me?" Yara

"Weak digestion and inflammation," Mosby declared confidently. "The other patient is two months pregnant—make sure to focus on prenatal care." Almost as soon as the words left his mouth, the examiner beside him burst into applause. "Impressive, Dr. Lake! Flawless diagnosis, not a single mistake!" "Round eight, contestant Mosby, pass!" the judge announced, and Mosby slowly released the two threads in his hands, letting them drift down. His patients, clearly impressed, could not stop showering him with gratitude, their voices blending with the roaring applause from the stands. A triumphant grin spread across Mosby's face, his eyes flashing with an unspoken challenge. He regarded Thomas and Andrew as mere obstacles in his path. The prize—the treasure map fragment—would be his, no matter who stood in the way. Meanwhile, Thomas' thick eyebrows were tightly furrowed as his fingers rested on the threads, focusing all his attention on sensing the pulses. Mosby's early success did aff

The eighth round, the Vein Whisperer challenge, had officially ended. Stagehands quickly cleared away the excess props from the platform, leaving just three remaining figures standing in the left, center, and right positions. From the audience, it was an unobstructed view of the three contestants. On the far right stood Andrew, now undeniably the center of attention. Thomas and Mosby making it this far was expected, but Andrew? He had bulldozed his way here with one shocking move after another, turning every expectation on its head. People could not help but wonder—was he just insanely lucky, or had he been hiding his true strength all along, playing the fool to catch his opponents off guard? Up on the judges' platform, Clifford's expression was as dark as a storm cloud. He leaned forward and barked, "Andrew, this is your last chance. Will you withdraw now and walk away with a respectable third place, full of honors?" Andrew rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed. "Why woul

Quinton snickered from his seat, clearly enjoying the moment. "With so many ingredients, just remembering their names and effects is enough to drive someone insane. Andrew, you've dodged failure so many times—this has to be the end of the line for you." Christina remained silent, but the bitter knot in her chest began to loosen. If Andrew finally stumbled here, maybe she could breathe a little easier. Finally, Andrew reached out, slowly sifting through the mountain of herbs in front of him. He moved without urgency, casually picking and discarding ingredients as if he had all the time in the world. Preston and Clifford exchanged a quick glance, a silent smirk passing between them. In their eyes, Andrew's slow, meandering approach was a clear sign of someone struggling to stay afloat, just grasping at straws. In stark contrast, Mosby and Thomas moved like lightning, their hands darting through their respective herb piles with practiced precision. Mosby, in particular, seemed

Someone exclaimed, "My God, I get it now! This guy wasn't clueless when he was slowly picking through the ingredients! He was doing the opposite of what's normal! Dr. Lake and Dr. Bozzelli selected the needed ingredients, but Andrew first picked out what he didn't need, leaving only what he wanted!" Once someone explained it this way, everyone immediately understood. The entire venue erupted in a chorus of gasps. Medical experts like Malcolm could not remain seated—they stood up abruptly, their eyes widened in shock. "About 800 ingredients were all thrown in to brew the Golden Cure at once! Andrew is either completely reckless or truly a freak of nature. His medical skill truly walks the line between madness and genius!" Mosby let out a roar and rushed directly to Andrew, pointing at his nose in righteous indignation. "If this actually works, I'll quit medicine for good and hand over my title as a medical master to you!" Thomas, equally shaken, shouted from his station, "Andr