Clutching his abdomen, brows drawn into a pained frown, Silas limped out of the bathroom to see a blonde doctor in his 30s standing beside his bed, eyes slightly squinted.
The doctor smiled nervously as Silas approached the bed.
"Mr. Locke, since you won't go with me to the hospital, I can't fully tell if the food is the cause of the diarrhea."
"I didn't call you here to tell me what I already know!" The words were barely out of his mouth when Silas snapped irritably, snatching the drugs the doctor held in his hand.
Holding it up, he turned the pack around a few times before glancing at the now-silent doctor.
"Will these pills heal me?"
The doctor hummed, "Since it's mild food poisoning, this drug should work."
Clenching the drugs tightly in his palm, Silas' jaw ticked at his words.
"Mild? Did you just say it's a mild one? I've been going to the toilet since last night. Are you out of your mind, calling that a mild food poisoning?!"
Silas was condescending.
