Chapter 936 - 934-Dirty Medicine.

The silence had been thick, then it cracked the moment I looked at Clara. She didn’t flinch away, though her eyes had that tired gleam, the one you only see when someone has been smiling too long to hide the exhaustion.

"They want to bury me with fake patients," she said in, calm voice, but I caught the sharpness hiding inside it. "Cheaper healers lined up outside, throwing out treatments that look flashy. They make the crowd laugh and clap while my work is dismissed as too slow, too careful. Then, when the fake patients leave my place, they go write lies. Poison dripping into the ears of everyone who will listen."

I leaned my chin into my palm, watching her speak. There being a fire in there. Clara never shouted; she never had to. But I could see the toll. Her hands, steady as ever, had the faintest tremor. She was too proud to admit it, but the lies cut deeper than anything.

"Simple solution," Mark cut in immediately, fists tightening. "We find these rats, we break their teeth, and dump them outside her clinic for everyone to see." His aura flared hot, making the others stiffen. "That’ll shut the whispers real fast."

"Simple, but stupid," I said, shaking my head. "You break one, five more sprout. Girika’s not playing with muscle here, she’s playing with reputation. You can’t punch lies."

Mark grunted, sinking back, though his glare stayed hot. His knuckles cracked against the wood of the table, like he was already imagining bones giving way.

Alex smirked, leaning forward, his elbows on the table. "So what do we do, Austin? You got that grin on your face that says you’ve been cooking something nasty."

’Of course I do, dumbass.’

Out loud, I chuckled. "They’re building their little empire on fireworks and mirrors. Then we make the fireworks misfire, and let the mirrors crack themselves."

Tron’s eyes lit up immediately. "Fake miracles?" he asked, voice eager.

"Exactly." I snapped my fingers at him. "We flood the market with too many fake cures. Tonic powders, shiny elixirs, herbs that smell good but do nothing. We make sure they look even more impressive than what the cheap healers are already selling."

Nyla tilted her head, her tone flat but sharp. "And when the public comes back, angry that the miracles failed?"

"That’s the beauty," I said, smirking. "They won’t blame us. They’ll blame the healer houses that were already pushing the fraud. Too many liars in the same circle? They’ll start pointing fingers at each other before they ever look our way."

Sonia crossed her arms, her lips tugging into a grin. "A marketplace of liars collapsing in their own filth. Oh, I can already hear the debates. I’ll make them choke on their own contradictions."

"Hold it," Clara spoke up, her voice firmer now. "You’re asking me to sit quietly while you drown the market with more lies? Won’t that taint me too? People will see healers cheating everywhere. What if they stop coming altogether?"

The room shifted at her words. She wasn’t wrong.

I leaned forward, locking eyes with her. "That’s why you’ll be the exception. Small, precise, real. Heal for free in the crowd, mend an injury that people thought impossible to fix. Don’t chase applause. Let the real work shine when the fake ones all burn themselves."

Clara’s eyes narrowed, but I saw her shoulders loosen slightly. "And when they ask why my work doesn’t look as flashy?"

"That’s when Tron and the networks and true princesses step in," I said, jerking my chin towards her.

Tron’s smile sharpened. "I’ll twist it. Say the quiet miracle is the stronger miracle. That showy treatments are like fireworks—bright and gone, while real healing lasts, they won’t even know what hit him right, after all, you have two factions fully under you, they are not the only ones with resources to burn."

Alex chuckled low. "Weaponise their greed. Damn, I love it."

But Rina leaned forward, her grin knife-sharp. "You’re forgetting something. Fake miracles won’t spread themselves. We need delivery. Street level. The kind of rats that move easily without tying to us."

I pointed at her. "That’s where you come in. You’ve got the gutter hands, the contacts. We don’t use our own names. We pay off the real one in need to help, the low-ranking students that are always beaten up, we show them Sonia too, the changes mixed with the lies. No ties, no trail. Just noise."

Rina’s grin widened. "Easy. I’ll make sure the sellers don’t even know who paid them. Ghost hands."

"Good," I said. "But we’ll need a bankroll to seed the goods."

All eyes turned to Alex.

He raised his hands, smirking. "What? You all think I’m just sitting on piles of points? Fine, I’ll arrange it. We’ll funnel the money through gambling dens—looks cleaner that way."

I smiled at those words. There exist several places not run by the academy where points needed to flow like water, after all, everyone needs points and what better way to have that going than gambling dens hidden away? many of which is controlled and handled by Alex, who had set it all up when he joined, he saw a gap and he played the dangerous game, which worked out well I have to tell.

Tron scribbled something down. "So step one: spread the miracles. Step two: fake patients return, angry. Step three: rival houses start pointing fingers."

Emma, still pouting from earlier, suddenly raised her voice. "But what about Clara’s reputation right now? People are already saying her treatments are too expensive, too slow. What if they stop coming at all?"

I turned to her, a smirk softening a fraction. "That’s why we add the second blade. The ’miracle forum.’"

Tron blinked. "Miracle forum?"

"Yes," I said. "We set up a public gathering, a council that looks neutral. Invite all healers—cheap, flashy, fraud, and real. Make it sound like it’s about standardising care, protecting patients, all that noble crap. The reputation around will eat it up."

Sonia leaned back, eyes glinting. "And in the forum, we don’t attack. We ask questions."

"Exactly," I nodded. "We plant people in the crowd. Simple, innocent questions like—why did your cure wear off in two days? Why do your prices change depending on who’s asking? Why did you treat that noble faster than that child?"

Clara’s lips parted, then curved into the faintest smile. "Expose them without lifting a finger."

"Right," I said. "You don’t need to win with arguments. You just sit there, calm, collected, healing one person who actually gets better. The contrast will do the rest."

Nathalia, quiet until now, spoke softly. "But won’t they suspect the questions are planted?"

"They might," I said. "But here’s the trick—people already want to believe healers are greedy. We’re just feeding them what they already think. That’s why it’ll stick."

Alex snorted. "So we build her up by tearing the rest down with their own lies. That’s cruel."

"Cruel but effective," Nyla said dryly.

"Cruel is survival," I said, leaning back in my chair. "We don’t just defend Clara—we make the others eat each other alive."

Mark cracked his knuckles again, still unsatisfied. "And if one of them catches on? What if they realise we’re the ones seeding the fake miracles?"

I smirked at him. "Then we laugh. Because the moment they accuse us, they admit the miracles are fake. And once the crowd hears that, their credibility is already dead."

The room went quiet for a beat. Then Alex laughed, long and loud. "Oh, that’s dirty. That’s exactly the kind of shit I like."

Clara exhaled, and for the first time since the talk started, the weight around her shoulders seemed lighter. There were other ways to do it, but in this one, everything will go to shit, those bastards. mixed the pool to hurt the one I care about, then me? I am going to blow off the whole pool; they won’t have anything left to stand on then.

But Tron wasn’t done. "We’ll need timing. Too fast, it looks forced. Too slow, they adjust. I say we launch the fake cures right before the forum, so their reputations crack just as the questions start flying."

"Smart," I said, nodding. "We’ll hit them in the knees, then shove them off the stage."

Rina tilted her head. "And if one of them tries to counter by buying off the forum?"

I smirked. "Then we leak it. Public. No one forgives a healer who takes bribes."

Sonia licked her lips. "I’ll handle that. A scandal or two makes better theatre anyway."

Lanora, who had been quiet, strummed her fingers on the table. "If you want noise, I can arrange music. A small performance outside the forum. Draw a bigger crowd, more eyes to watch."

"Perfect," I said. "The more eyes, the harder they fall."

Clara looked around the table, seeing everyone pitching in for her. She whispered, almost too soft, "Thank you."

I leaned forward, voice low but sharp. "Don’t thank us yet. Save it for when they choke on their own medicine."

"But you when if all this succeeds, we will in essence be destroying the whole healer section, truth will be lost, and the whole thing will blow up."

Alex said, to which I replied with a smirk.

"So what? They tried to hurt my family? Then let them all burn as we stand tall."

Everyone liked that answer as they all smiled, true to the change, they all have grown up.