Chapter 51: Fear of Losing Courage More Than Death

Peter quickly sensed the atmosphere of the classroom and where it was coming from.

"Peter, could you step out for a moment?" Miss Fesh, who usually appeared somewhat reserved, was standing outside the classroom, beckoning to him.

Peter hesitated but nodded and walked towards the door.

"This is Officer Billy Nolan. He has some questions for you." Miss Fesh introduced the burly black police officer standing beside her to Peter before hesitating and then turning away.

"I don't think we've met before, Officer," Peter frowned at the officer before him.

"Yes, we haven't met before. I'd like to ask you about the incident at the New York Presbyterian Hospital," the black police officer got straight to the point. "Weren't you the one who stopped an assault there yesterday?"

"Yes, that's correct," Peter nodded. "So, are you here to give me a medal for bravery? I wouldn't refuse the award, though I might pass on the bonus."

"Um," the black police officer looked at Peter's serious expression, unsure if he was joking or genuinely expecting something.

"Cough, well, actually, the suspect in the assault incident has died. We need you to come to the police station for some questioning. Of course, your actions were commendable, and his death shouldn't be linked to you," the officer assured Peter, promising it would just be a simple inquiry.

After hesitating for a moment, Peter nodded in agreement and followed the officer to the police car.

He hadn't expected the assailant to be dead. He hadn't exerted much force; at most, the assailant had suffered minor injuries. How could he have died so easily? Was he inherently weak?

As he pondered, walking towards the police car, the students in the classroom erupted into chatter.

First, there was Josh's death, and now, another incident involving death. Even though Josh's death had been proven unrelated to him, why did death always seem to follow him?

Many students had already labeled him as "trouble" or "the Grim Reaper."

Liz Allen, the class reporter and video blogger, saw Peter being taken away by the police and immediately took out her phone to snap a picture. She then sent the photo to Gwen.

Gwen quickly responded with a question mark. "What's happening, Liz? Why is Peter with the police?"

"Peter was taken by the police. Miss Fesh said it might be related to the incident at the Presbyterian Hospital," Liz replied.

"What? How could that be? Are they mistaken?" Gwen, feeling anxious, immediately called Liz.

When Liz answered the phone, she was bombarded with Gwen's rapid questions.

"Take it easy, Gwen. It's not that serious. We don't know what's going on yet."

Liz reassured the panicked Gwen, "Besides, I know quite a few lawyers who might be able to help Peter."

After some thought, she added, "For example, do you know Gerald Hargenson? He's a heavyweight in the New York legal scene, tall, confident, and with a face that can melt the hearts of female jurors."

Gwen, on the other end of the phone, was a bit speechless. "I don't think this joke is very funny, Liz. I have to go to the police station. We'll talk later."

Liz shrugged, "Okay, talk later. But seriously, my dad's a lawyer. If Peter needs help, just let me know."

Meanwhile, at the New York Presbyterian Hospital, Strange and Christine made their way to the morgue.

"Do we really need to retest?" Christine asked her old partner, "Haven't we already determined the cause of Dan Stein's death? The police have been here once already."

Dan Stein, the assailant who attacked Strange, had undergone a preliminary autopsy, which concluded death by anaphylactic shock.

"The cause of anaphylactic shock doesn't convince me," Strange pushed open the morgue door, and a cold chill rushed towards them, causing Christine to shiver involuntarily.

"Are you okay? I can go in alone if you'd prefer," Strange suggested to Christine.

Christine shook her head, "No need. Don't forget, I'm a doctor too. I've seen my fair share of corpses and even attended anatomy classes in college."

"In fact," Strange walked over to a freezer, turning to his partner, "death comes in many forms. I thought becoming a surgeon would make you avoid seeing these things. After all, it signifies a doctor's failure to beat Death."

Christine helped him open the freezer, saying, "You know, I've seen worse. When I lived in Worcester, there was a massive tornado that caused extensive damage and countless deaths."

"Months later, my mother and I went out, and every face on the street was filled with despair and numbness. Men sat silently drinking beer at the Sullivan Street Bar, and women shared their sorrows and pains in backyards."

She seemed to recall something, her expression turning gloomy. "For half a year, the city's main commercial projects became funeral services. I fear a repeat of all that. More than death, I fear seeing people lose courage."

Strange nodded, suddenly understanding why his partner became a doctor.

Indeed, more terrifying than death itself was the loss of courage due to fear of death, and doctors could instill courage in people.

Opening the freezer and gazing at the corpse's pale face, Strange frowned, "There are traces of hallucinogenic substances in his blood, and his hormone levels are abnormal, resembling those of someone who has taken some form of drug."

"Hallucinogens?" Christine composed herself, examining the body for abnormalities. "Could the sudden change in temperament, the altered behavior, be due to hallucinogen use?"

Strange shook his head, "Can hallucinogens cause anaphylactic shock? Or lead to sudden cardiac arrest and respiratory distress, along with abnormal hormone levels?"

As he spoke, he checked the mouth of the deceased, "I believe this allergen isn't a typical hallucinogen."

After a moment of hesitation, he said to Christine, "The change in behavior, making Dan seem like a different person, must be due to some unknown chemical compound or hormones derived from certain plants or animals."

"What's this mark?" Christine suddenly pointed to a spiderweb tattoo on the back of the deceased's head, asking Strange.

"Gang symbol," Strange said solemnly, "It's usually tattooed on former gang members or those imprisoned, symbolizing being trapped in a web with no chance of escape."