Infinity: Kill your way through the movie world.

Wu Heng turned to look out the window: "This is just the beginning."

“Yes, you’re right, it’s just the beginning.” Hannah also turned to look at the fountain statue outside the window.

Both of them had their own inner expectations, but their perspectives were different, and what they meant was completely different.

Less than 48 hours later, a mud-covered black Chevrolet Impala broke through the thick fog, entered the estate, and came to an abrupt stop in front of the old mansion gate.

Sam half-dragged, half-carried Dean, whose face was pale and whose breathing was weak, and staggered toward the heavy oak door. Dean's lips were blue, and every breath was difficult.

The door slid open silently.

Inside the door was warm air, filled with the fragrance of oak and herbs.

Wu Heng stood under the crystal chandelier in the foyer, wearing a dark gray suit. The woman in the retro maid outfit beside him was Hannah's spirit, who looked at the two brothers with curiosity and nervousness.

“Mr. Morrick,” Sam’s voice was hoarse, “Dean’s condition has worsened on the road!”

Sam was wearing a brown zip-up hoodie, while Dean was wearing a green jacket and looked extremely pale.

Wu Heng's gaze swept over Dean's ashen face.

“Perfect timing, Hannah, take him to the west lounge.”

The lounge was warm and comfortable, with firewood burning in the fireplace.

Dean was placed in a large sofa, his entire body sinking into it like a lump of mud, looking extremely weak, while Sam stood anxiously to the side.

Wu Heng walked to the mahogany wine cabinet and opened a hidden compartment deep inside, inlaid with runes.

Inside lay an antique crystal wine bottle with natural patterns on its body and a stopper woven from deep purple vines.

He took out three thin crystal glasses and brought the red wine to the table.

This is a bottle of unidentified red wine from the previous head of the family's collection. It should be a privately brewed wine that has never been sold.

It originally had certain therapeutic effects.

After passing through Wu Heng's hands, its effect was greatly enhanced, even to the point of disregarding the physical body.

Sam was very anxious seeing Wu Heng acting as if he was about to receive a guest. He hoped that Dean would receive immediate treatment, but he dared not say anything.

Now that we're here, we have no choice but to hand Dean over to Wu Heng.

Wu Heng sat down opposite Sam on the sofa, gesturing for him to sit down as he uncorked the bottle. A strange, exotic fragrance filled the room, and the liquid resembled molten rubies, with what appeared to be a cluster of tiny starlight swirling inside.

Wu Heng poured the wine into the glass.

The red liquid had a viscous consistency similar to stardust, as if silver sand had been injected into blood and then thoroughly stirred.

“Calm down, Sam.” He handed Sam a glass, picked one up for himself, and placed the last one on the low table in front of Dean. “Have a drink; it might make your brother feel better.”

Seeing Wu Heng pick up his glass and take a sip, Sam, to show he wasn't so wary, also took a sip before asking:
"This is?"

“A small family heirloom.” Wu Heng swirled his wine glass slightly. “Its name is ‘Ember’.”

"Even embers can still hold the hope of starting a prairie fire, as long as new fuel can be obtained."

"The ingredients use the essence of three extinct plants: the Star Tear Grass from the Arctic, the Ghostly Bloom that grows on the corpse of the Moonlight Ogre, and the tender shoots of the 'Thorn Vine' that grows from the blood of angels."

Each name carries the weight of ancient legends.

Dean strained to lift his eyelids, staring intently at the glass of red wine that had been placed in front of him, which seemed to have an invisible allure to him.

That was the allure of 'life force'. "Drink it," Wu Heng said, looking at Dean. "Each cup will extend your life by a month. Even if you have heart problems, or even if you're crushed into a pulp, you won't die." His voice carried a sense of order. "The price is that you cannot leave the manor within a mile radius for this month. Once you step outside, the consequences will be severe."

Upon hearing this, Sam quickly put down his half-full glass, feeling as if that one sip had consumed half a month of Dean's life!

"Dean, drink up," Sam said.

Upon hearing this, Dean quickly picked up the glass in front of him and drank it. A sweet taste filled his throat, and it was incredibly smooth. This was the best red wine he had ever tasted.

Most importantly, the cool sensation as it slid down my throat felt like a gentle, soothing coolness was being injected into my entire body, calming my heart, which felt like an old man's engine.

A rosy glow appeared on his face, and his previous pale and weak state disappeared.

Dean subconsciously licked his lips.

This feeling was even more comfortable than going to a sauna a hundred or a thousand times, especially the feeling of suddenly recovering to a healthy state after being on the verge of death, which fascinated him.

"Dean, drink this too." Sam hurriedly handed his half-glass to Dean.

Dean unexpectedly raised his hand and grabbed the entire bottle of wine on the table.

He grinned slyly, looking at Wu Heng:

“Hey buddy, I know the rules, one cup lasts a month, right? So can I have the rest of this bottle? Sam’s got the guts of a bull, he doesn’t need it for now.” He tried to sound casual, but deep in his eyes was a mixture of longing and fear for life.

Wu Heng looked into Dean's bright eyes. This kid initially seemed like a scoundrel and playboy, but his true nature was good.

"Of course, it was originally opened for you."

"That's great!" Dean roared, tilting his head back and downing the thick liquid in his glass in one gulp.

The wine slid down my throat, and the feeling was completely different. It was like a warm current flowing into my limbs and bones, and the chill from the bottom of my heart was warmed again.

It's like a tender sprout of life bursting forth.

Dean let out a muffled groan, his body trembled, the horrible bluish-purple hue fading from his face, and his breathing miraculously calmed down. The excruciating pain in his heart and the feeling of suffocation quickly subsided.

"Dean!" Sam exclaimed in surprise as he helped his brother up.

Dean let out a long sigh of relief, his eyes regaining their light. He smacked his lips, reached out without hesitation to grab the remaining half of Sam's glass, and then looked at the remaining half of Wu Heng's glass.

Wu Heng seemed oblivious, picking up the glass and drinking it all in one gulp.

Just then, Sam's phone vibrated, and the screen displayed a name: Joshua Smith, a news broker in the Witcher community.

He received help from Sam's father, John.

“Sam?” Joshua’s voice was slick and urgent. “I heard Dean got into trouble. I have some news.”

"In Madison County, Nebraska, a pastor named Le Grange has recently emerged, rumored to have a 'hand of faith' that can cure all terminal illnesses!"

"The stories of blind people regaining their sight and paralyzed people walking have caused a sensation in the local area. Perhaps you could give it a try."

Sam's heart pounded, his gaze shifting from Dean to Wu Heng.

Could curing his terminal illness be a chance to cure Dean completely?

Dean paused, his hand holding the bottle darting around, his eyes gleaming. He naturally craved health, but his witcher's intuition made him skeptical of any 'miracle'—the bottle of liquor alone required such expensive ingredients.

So what does it take to snatch a life back from the clutches of death?

“Mr. Morrick…” Sam asked, his voice filled with inquiry and pleading. (End of Chapter)