On the platform, Mosby and Andrew stood on opposite ends, locked in a silent stare. The original third contender, Thomas, had already left in quiet defeat.

Mosby said, "Andrew, a shared first place is a win-win for both of us. Why not just take the prize and walk away happy? That way, we both leave this on a high note."

He was still trying to talk Andrew out of the final match.

Andrew glanced at him and replied with a light laugh. "Dr. Lake, are you chickening out?"

Mosby's face darkened. "Me? Scared? You think that's possible? I'm suggesting this for our benefit. I've seen your skills now—they're no less than mine. But if you want to surpass me, you'd need at least another ten, maybe 20 years."

Andrew rolled his eyes, clearly losing patience. "Mosby, quit blowing smoke. You know damn well that when it comes to medicine, you're not even fit to carry my bag."

That blatant slap in the face sent Mosby into a rage. His eyes flared, and he roared, "Fine! Then I'll fight you to t