The nurse wheeled her cart over to Pharaoh's bedside, handing him his medication and carefully setting up his IV. "Are you really not considering chemotherapy?" she asked, trying one last time. "These medications can only do so much, especially at this stage." These medications had very limited effects. To put it nicely, it's conservative treatment but bluntly, it's just waiting to die. She really couldn't understand his choice.

Pharaoh shook his head. "No, I'll just take the pills. You don't need to keep trying to convince me. I know what I'm doing."

The nurse sighed heavily. "If you won't do chemotherapy, will you still want to come in for regular scans to monitor the cancer's spread?"

After a pause, Pharaoh nodded. "Yeah, I'll keep up with the checkups. At least that way, I'll know how much time I have to set everything in order."

With that, the nurse finished setting up the IV, then turned to leave. As she opened the door, she came face to face with Nina standing right outside.

had explicitly asked them not to tell his daughter about his condition, and the staff

the cart down the hallway. It seemed this time, Pharaoh

Pharaoh was seriously ill, diagnosed with late-stage cancer, and

the room, she asked bluntly, "So, you're really set

it was the nurse again. "Yes, I'm sure. It's my illness, after all. I should have the right to decide how

realized something was off. That voice... it wasn't the nurse. Slowly, he raised his head, meeting

knew something was off

it the last time we spoke, but you kept brushing it off. Now I know the truth that

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