Sixty-Four Killing Styles

"I know a little!" Braydon Neal took the glass and did not let the old man drink too much. With his hidden disease, if he continued to drink like this, he would be in trouble in less than half a year.

"Grandpa, you don't know this, but my brother Braydon is a national level doctor!" Joseph Thomas said proudly.

"What?"

Stefan Thomas was startled.

It was not a child's play to be a national-level doctor. There were currently three national-level doctors in the country. One had died, and there were still two left. This was a publicly acknowledged fact.

Even wargod-level fighters could not get a doctor to do a home visit.

Stefan would never have thought that the young man in white sitting in front of him was a national-level doctor.

His old face darkened. "You little brat. You're making a fool out of me again. You really dare to say anything!"

"Grandpa, I'm not lying to you this time!" Joseph looked dejected.