Jason Statham lay motionless on the hospital bed, drenched in sweat and his body aching as if it were about to burst. The surgical light was still dim, revealing the bright red stitches on his chest. The pain was sharp, but not as much as the anger boiling inside him. He could not accept a body this weak.

A petite figure entered the room, a nurse in a light blue uniform. She approached the bed, holding a tray of medicine. Statham squinted, staring at her. His voice was hoarse, like sand, coming from his throat: “Do you know what a muscle growth stimulant is? “

The nurse was startled, her eyes wide. She took a step back, her hands shaking. Statham smiled faintly, a smile as cold as ice. “I need it, and I need it now. If not, you will be responsible for what happens next. “

Statham’s gaze seemed to pierce through the nurse, sending a chill down her spine. She knew exactly what this man was capable of. In the underworld, his name was terrifying. She didn’t dare to argue, she could only nod her head tremblingly.

Statham closed his eyes, trying to suppress the pain. Time was of the essence, and he couldn’t let his body weaken another minute.