Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation
“I’m not a professor. I’m just a doctor in Sea City General Hospital. Lie facedown, please, there are just a few more sutures left. By the way, your wound is contaminated again, so I’ll need to disinfect it later,” said Zheng Ren bluntly.
When the iodophor-soaked cotton was applied to the wound this time, the patient merely hissed in pain without shrieking as if he was about to die in agony.
“Doctor Zheng, right? I thought you were a Japanese professor.”
“Why is that?”
“I heard through the grapevine that the professor that Mr. Bu invited was one of the best in the world, but I didn’t expect you to be so young.”
Zheng Ren continued his task without responding. The reverse cutting needle poked out of the patient’s skin with a gentle flick of his wrist, and the suture thread was then tied into a surgical knot.
The knot looked awful due to his trembling hands as he filled with consternation. Sighing heavily, he cut the thread and resutured the last layer.
“Even if I misidentified you, Elder San wouldn’t make the same mistake,” said the patient, who was either a talkative man or merely trying to alleviate his anxiety through conversation. “Although I’m just a nobody, I actually do recognize the big names of Sea City, but I honestly didn’t expect Elder San to be acquainted with you. It seems I’ve made the right choice by coming to Sea City General Hospital after all.”
Zheng Ren had no intention of continuing the conversation. In any case, he had no idea what to say in the first place as he was inexperienced in such small talk.
The needle reached the end of the wound at last. Once he confirmed the wound edges were aligned and everted, he said, “I’m done. You can leave now.”
Meanwhile, Zheng Ren brought the surgical tray to the basin, turned the tap on with his elbow and started rinsing the surgical instruments.
Once the blood had dried, it would be extremely difficult to clean it off completely.
Thus, the central sterile services department declared that every surgical instrument had to be rinsed thoroughly before it was autoclaved.
“Doctor… Doctor Zheng, can I leave together with you?” asked the patient who stood behind Zheng Ren with an ashen-grey face.
Zheng Ren had no clue what sort of danger the patient might face upon leaving the hospital, so after giving it some thought, he asked, “Do you want to call the police?”
“Of course not. It doesn’t really matter, anyway, since I’ve to endure this sooner or later,” replied the patient with a grin.
“Alright, then.” Zheng Ren, who had no desire to understand the rules of this society, made the promise directly without interrogating the patient further.
Something changed in the mysterious world within Zheng Ren’s mind while he was in the middle of cleaning. The frame started editing itself, changing the images constantly in a flash and creating numerous after-images along the way.
Subsequently, the mirage transformed into a computer monitor, which connected to the internet automatically and entered a website called Xinglin Garden without hesitation.
There were no tedious steps to go through—account registration or member login—which made the System far more powerful than the site administrator.
This website was specifically created for doctors to communicate with each other, with its members composed mainly of specialists or experienced senior doctors.
Rumors claimed that many of the finest specialists from each department within the country were frequent viewers of Xinglin Garden. However, they had a habit of browsing this website without commenting or posting anything, just like alligators lurking in deep water.
The video of Zheng Ren’s wound closure procedure was uploaded to this website.
The new video received dozens of views instantly, as there were many doctors browsing the website during lunch hour.
“Who uploaded a normal wound closure procedure?”
“Simple condition and ordinary technique. I suggest using a running subcuticular suture technique with an absorbable catgut suture. You can get more viewers that way.”
“The video quality is superb but the surgery itself doesn’t have any highlights. Bad review.”
The video, which received only a few comments, was dropped from the homepage after a few minutes like a stone falling into the abyss.
The comments on it transformed into a few dimly glowing specks and flew into the fox statue in front of the thatched cottage.
There was a sudden quantum fluctuation in the mysterious world within Zheng Ren’s mind. All the energies within that space twisted and whirled violently like a raging, furious storm, as if some majestic presence in that world had been enraged.
“Huh?” Zheng Ren suddenly experienced a glacial feeling erupting from within his soul as he rinsed the surgical instruments.
He threw his work aside and dived into the mysterious world immediately out of worry that there could be something wrong with the System.
Before he could take a good look at his surroundings, a translucent screen emerged before him with words popping up rapidly. His anxiety was justified. Something was definitely wrong with the System.
[Mission: Complete at least ten surgeries in three days. The degree of completion for each surgery must reach perfection.]
Below the mission lay a whole list of surgery choices.
The last sentence was highlighted in red.
[Mission Reward: Unknown. Failure to complete this mission will cause inadequate power supply. Consequence…]
“…” Zheng Ren was completely taken by surprise. Why did the peaceful System end up this enraged? Performing surgery perfectly was not something a junior attending surgeon could do easily at his level.
Could the experts in Imperial Capital and Sorcery Capital perform any surgery to perfection? Zheng Ren doubted it.
The mission reward was unspecified. Punishment for failure was an unknown threat.
Was it possible that the System figured out his talent was limited and decided to induce sudden cardiac death so that it could locate a new host?
If that was the case… What the f*ck!
Cold sweat started trickling down his forehead, temples, and back. Zheng Ren then took a few deep breaths quickly and forced himself to calm down.
He had absolutely zero doubt in the System’s amazing ability. Its diagnosis on every patient was extremely accurate, like a universal cheat code in a game.
That was exactly why he believed that the System could wipe him from existence silently with the illusion that he passed away due to sudden cardiac death.
He tried his best to stay calm and scanned through the mission again. After making sure he understood what the System actually wanted, he started scrolling through the surgical choices.
He had to perform at least ten perfect surgeries within three days, so without the slightest hesitation, he chose appendectomy among hundreds of surgical choices in the list.
He was most experienced in the general surgery department and the most he could perform personally, at his level, was an appendectomy.
Perfection… Zheng Ren dared not think about it and could only try his best to achieve it.
What was the point of this System? What was the point of an ideal life? Both the majestic presence in the System and life would obliterate him at some point anyway.
The mirage shattered immediately after Zheng Ren’s finger selected his choice—an appendectomy—on the list, sending innumerable fragments in all directions before they were finally rebuilt.
The world which Zheng Ren was currently standing on was reconstructed completely. The snow-white clouds scattering across the clear blue sky disappeared entirely and the scenery was replaced with an operating theater with him standing in front of an operating table. What surprised Zheng Ren most was the lifelike mannequin—which was far better than any mannequin used in ordinary medical institutes—on top of the operating table.
[Mission Reward: Practice a surgical procedure in the System. This reward was gifted in advance. Please appreciate this opportunity.]
The cold, robotic female voice seemed to have become slightly high-pitched as if it was constantly reminding Zheng Ren about the imminent danger he faced.
“How long can I practice here?” Zheng Ren tried to initiate communication with the System as the female voice had finally appeared.
“The host is currently in static spacetime. The velocity of spacetime in the realistic world equals zero. The System can maintain this state for… Calculating…” The robotic female voice sounded chaotic as if the power supply was insufficient.
The robotic, female voice cut off. Instead, a row of numbers appeared in front of Zheng Ren: [15:6:23:15.]
Did this mean that he had to practice an appendectomy surgery continuously in the System for fifteen days? However, Zheng Ren realized that his death sentence was basically reprieved as he had been given slightly more than fifteen days to save himself.
There was no surgical assistant or scrub nurse in this world. Zheng Ren was alone.
He finally accepted his reality after a few minutes of pondering, and decided to give it his all.
His scalpel was thin and shiny. The practice appendectomy officially began.
The surgical case given by the System was rather simple. After the peritoneum was incised, the inflamed appendix popped out on its own. The appendiceal artery was then ligated and the inflamed appendix removed… Everything was done according to standard.
One appendectomy finished fairly quickly.
Zheng Ren glanced at the System’s evaluation on the upper right corner of his vision. “Surgery time used: 15 minutes. Rating: Good.”
Er… It was just an appendectomy. Was the System expecting a flower from it?
Well, the System was his master anyway. He had no choice but to complete every mission the System threw at him by any means necessary.
