Surviving In This Filthy World As A Novel Villain-Chapter 177: Riley Desperation

The screen glowed with call logs—one number, over and over. All night, she'd dialed it, clinging to a shred of hope. Each time, the same cold wall: "The number you've reached is unavailable…"

From hope to despair in a single night.

"Grandma…" she whimpered, sobs shaking her small frame. Crying was all she had left.

The hospital had issued the critical notice: today was the last chance for surgery. But surgery meant one hundred ten thousand six hundred eighty-seven dollars—an amount of money Riley had never even seen in her life.

And the one person who might help—her "Sir"—was nowhere to be found.

"Wah—it's all my fault," she sobbed. "If I hadn't run away that next day, if I'd gone to work like normal, he wouldn't be mad. He'd answer my calls."

Staring at the endless list of unanswered calls, guilt swallowed her whole.

After that night in the private room, Riley convinced herself she'd lost her innocence to Alex while drunk.

The next day, hungover and ashamed, she'd bought pills from a clinic outside the hospital and quit her best-paying gig at bar. In her mind, his silence now was payback—punishment for dodging him after "that."

"It's my fault, Grandma. I messed up."

Her cries echoed down the hall.

"Ring-ring! Ring-ring!" Her phone buzzed in her grip. Dazed, she lifted her tear-streaked face, eyes red and swollen. The caller ID flashed, and she shot up from the icy corridor floor.

"S-Sir?" She'd dialed that number all night. Seeing it call her back nearly broke her again. This was her lifeline—the only hope she had left.

"S-Sir…" Her voice quaked.

Shy by nature, she'd avoided him since that night, convinced they'd crossed a line. Hearing his voice now—dreaded yet familiar—steadied her, even as a shy flush crept up her pale cheeks.

"Who's this?" The words from the other end hit like a punch. She crumpled back to a squat, hands trembling. He didn't remember her!

Despair clawed at her, mingled with a sting of hurt and disbelief. She'd given him her first time—or so she thought—and he'd wiped her from his mind that fast?

No.

Swallowing a sob, she wiped her eyes. "Sir, it's Riley. Do you… remember me?"

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"Oh! Riley, right. Of course I do. What's up?"

Relief washed over her. "Sir, you remember when I told you about my grandma's illness? You said you had a way to save her. Now her condition's gotten worse out of nowhere—the hospital gave her a critical notice."

Just as I figured… Alex's tone stayed cool. "Yeah, I remember. My friend had a little mishap while goofing off, but he's tough. It's no big deal—I'll get him back ASAP."

"Thank you, Sir! Thank you so much!" Riley gushed. Pure and trusting, she ate up every word, especially since she believed she'd already given herself to him.

Hearing her gratitude, Alex almost didn't know what to say. A gullible sweetie like Riley? Without that "heroine purity" shield, she'd have been chewed up and spat out ages ago.

But if no one else is taking a bite, guess I'll help myself.

"Here's the plan," he said. "Come to my place. We'll talk about your grandma's case." Sure, last night Sera's back had worn him out for hours, but a good sleep had him fresh—waist loose, legs strong.

"But… Sir I can't leave my Grandma," Riley whimpered. "She just stabilized—she needs someone here to take care of her." Her voice cracked, torn between her grandma's side and his call.

"Can't make it?" Alex paused, then sighed. "Fine. Wait for me in the stairwell outside her ward. I'll swing by to check on her."

What could he do? She was still a tender, naive little thing.

"Okay, Sir," Riley murmured, obedient as ever. She steadied herself against the wall, pushing open the heavy fire-escape door.

She didn't get why he'd told her to wait in the stairwell instead of the ward, but she didn't ask. Alex had his reasons—she trusted that.

The hospital's stairwell doubled as an emergency exit. No one bothered with it—everyone took the elevators, even for one floor. The thick iron door clanged shut behind her with a dull thud, triggering the corner's motion light. It flickered on, then off, plunging the space into dead silence and shadow.

In the stillness, a sharp stomp echoed. The light buzzed back to life.

….

The hospital stairwell—built for emergencies—sat behind heavy iron doors on every floor, a quiet, forgotten nook. Riley paced the landing, heart jittery with nerves and a flicker of hope.

"Tap… tap… tap…"

Footsteps approached. She froze, eyes locked on the closed door, breath catching in her throat.

The door swung open, spilling bright light inside. She squinted, and there he was—the man who stirred her fear, longing, and faint memories all at once.

Their gazes met, and she flinched like she'd been shocked, ducking her head. Her pale cheeks flared red, her breathing quick and shallow.

"Sir, please—save my grandma!" She fumbled her slipping glasses, voice cracking as tears threatened again.

She knew the gulf between them—him a titan, her a speck. And her grandma's late-stage liver cancer? A monster, even one hundred ten thousand six hundred eighty-seven dollars, couldn't slay—a sum she couldn't dream of touching. Facing Alex, words failed her. In a panic, she fell back on the rawest plea she knew.

"Thud!" She dropped to her knees, teary eyes fixed on the figure above her, a pitiful little thing lost for options.

"Click."

Alex descended, step by deliberate step. The door slammed shut behind him, cutting off the light. In the dim, flickering glow of the motion sensor, he crouched before her, brushing a hand through her damp hair—tears or sweat, he couldn't tell.

"The doctors briefed me on your grandma. Don't worry. First, transfer her to my Reid Hospital. We've got liver cancer experts there—they'll stabilize her. Once my friend's back, I'll have him to step in and save her."

Why Reid Hospital? Because that doctor Protagonist was already there, locked in a ward.

After concerned citizens reported him, the police planned to cart Eric Vaughn off to a psych ward.

But no mental hospital in the city would take him—terrified he'd turn their halls into a fecal warzone.

Even the staff worried his pants-spraying antics would unhinge the other patients. Normal folks couldn't stomach it—imagine the mentally fragile?

Public hospitals balked too, citing their duty to existing patients. Admitting a nutcase—especially one who'd painted the streets yellow—would spark a riot among families.

In the end, only Reid Hospital stepped up, taking in the diarrhea-dazed Eric. The police even hung a banner, praising their "selfless sacrifice for the greater good."

Of course, Reid Hospital only grabbed him to wait for Riley's grandma to hit rock bottom like when she was at her end. No one trusted Eric's "skills" anymore—everyone pegged him as a lying quack, even Eric himself half-doubting his own hype now. But Alex? He believed.

If anyone could cure late-stage liver cancer, it was Eric—or his master, holed up in the mountains with two old coots. And Eric was the only one in reach.

Since waking from his coma at Reid Hospital, he'd been under tight watch and VIP care.