Newspapers are only one-way; their interactivity is far inferior to the internet. The front-page news from "Binjiang Daily" was reposted again and again, and the famous local forum 17th Floor had already exploded. Netizens were furious, unanimously condemning this rich second generation.

“龙狼あ睚眦: Damn it, so what if you’re rich? Does having money mean you can act like a thug? He must be executed!”

“二营长和他的意: People like this should be executed for an hour, absolutely can’t let him go.”

“金币与龙的轮舞: The rich second generation William Foster even has a prior record of causing serious injury, but in the end, nothing came of it.”

“星罗: I know about this. That time, the victim was bribed to withdraw the lawsuit. After the public prosecution and trial, it was probation and medical parole—he didn’t even spend a few days in the detention center. Even if he did, it was a luxury single room. I can see it now: if you have money, you can do whatever you want. Any problem that can be solved with money is not a problem at all. I heard that this time the victim’s family is determined to sue to the end, but the perpetrator, the rich second generation William Foster, is preparing for a psychiatric evaluation. I bet it’ll end with a payout again.”

“潜水专家秘制奶: If the insane can kill without punishment, and the murderer doesn’t die, there will be a second, a third, even more victims. Are we poor people doomed to have our lives bought by the rich? Is there any way out? There’s no justice!”

“彩虹: You wouldn’t believe it until you check—the Yao family’s assets are at least over three billion. In recent years, they’ve done a lot of charity and sponsored many social events. The public influence they’ve accumulated might just help this young master get away with it.”

“云淡g风轻（q）: Murder must be paid with life. Find out where William Foster is getting his psychiatric evaluation—we’ll go supervise. Anyone who helps him, we’ll dox them.”

“君榧tE: Agreed! Count me in!”

……

Except for two or three jokers stirring the pot, the comments were overwhelmingly one-sided.

“See that? This guy is a pile of dog shit—anyone who gets involved is unlucky. The forensic center is just dragging people down with him. Even the law firm defending William Foster is keeping its head down, afraid of being doxxed and denounced. Who knows, maybe one day someone will smash their office. You’d better be careful.”

Olivia Smith pointed at the phone screen, showing all the furious comments, looking rather anxious.

She brought the newspaper not just for gossip, but as a warning.

This rich second generation is now the target of public outrage. Anyone who gets involved will be tainted. If it falls to Abraham Lincoln, a careless move could ruin his reputation, or even bring huge pressure to the Seventh People’s Hospital. Losing his job or being called a lackey of the rich would be the least of it—there could even be danger to his life. Who knows when a brick might come flying from behind and leave him half dead.

No one dares to underestimate the power of online public opinion. There was once a cute girl who said some online gamers were fat losers who’d never seen a woman, and it triggered mass outrage. She was doxxed and almost hounded to death.

“Mm, thank you. I know what I’m doing.”

Abraham Lincoln lowered his head again, unconcerned, and continued eating.

A lawless rich kid and a raging online mob—could they really be harder to deal with than the sects, the Holy Court’s crusade, and the Evil Heaven Cult from another world?

Seeing Abraham Lincoln still unmoved, Olivia Smith grew anxious and said, “The one in charge of this evaluation appointment is Ethan Brooks. He deliberately found an excuse to push it onto you. He’s making you take the fall. Aren’t you going to think of a way to get out of it?”

“It’s fine. I have a way to handle it.”

Abraham Lincoln kept happily chewing on sweet and sour ribs. The small restaurant outside used mixed cuts, but the cafeteria used rib tips, and there was plenty of cartilage.

The doctor wasn’t worried, but the nurse was. No matter how much Olivia Smith tried to persuade him, Abraham Lincoln still ate at his own pace, finished his meal, left his plate spotless, and walked away leisurely, not at all worried about having just picked up a hot potato.

Neither Olivia Smith nor Abraham Lincoln knew that just after noon, an insider had already leaked the news: the much-hated Mr. Foster would be undergoing a psychiatric evaluation at the Seventh People’s Hospital.

The case of the rich second generation’s murder continued to ferment online, and some outraged netizens began heading to the Seventh People’s Hospital to verify the news.

Back in the outpatient corridor, standing at the door of his own office, Ethan Brooks rarely took the initiative to greet Abraham Lincoln: “Dr. Li, have you eaten? Thank you so much for this morning.”

“Mm, it was nothing. If you need help, just ask.”

Abraham Lincoln nodded, as if he had no idea the other had just dumped a huge problem on him.

“Of course, of course!”

Ethan Brooks’s smile was especially sincere, but inside he was sneering. Getting stuck with this big trouble in the afternoon was a lose-lose situation.

Whether you offend the locally influential Yao family or stir up public anger, there’s no good outcome. There’s no way he’d still compete with him for the attending physician position.

If someone checked Ethan Brooks’s work computer at that moment, they would definitely see the login information of those insiders who leaked the news on the screen.