Chapter 248: The Man Who Wouldn’t Die

The hospital was in chaos.

Doctors and nurses scrambled as Chris Blackwood—President of the United States, the most powerful man in the country—was rushed through the emergency ward, unconscious, bleeding, but somehow still alive.

Secret Service agents lined the hallways, their hands on their weapons, barking orders into earpieces. Military personnel had already locked down the building—no one in or out unless cleared.

Inside the trauma room, the lead surgeon's voice was sharp and commanding.

"Get him on oxygen—now!"

"BP is dropping!"

"He's lost too much blood—prepping for transfusion!"

The medical team moved with urgency, barely processing the reality of who was on their table.

The President of the United States had been shot.

And he wasn't supposed to be alive.

One of the younger nurses gasped when she finally got a clear look at him. His shirt had been cut away, exposing the bullet wounds—deep, precise, meant to kill.

"How is he still breathing?" she whispered.

No one answered.

Because no one knew.

Chris was still, his skin unnaturally pale, his breath weak. But even unconscious, there was something about him—a presence, an aura—that hadn't faded.

And as the doctors fought to keep him alive, one undeniable truth settled over everyone in the room.

If Chris Blackwood survived this—whoever had tried to kill him… was already as good as dead.