Chapter 99 Surgery

In the closed windowless room, the air seemed so heavy that it couldn't flow.

The pure white walls were filled with the color of snow in late winter.

The shining incandescent light was so dazzling that it was hard to open my eyes.

The pungent smell of disinfectant rushed into my nose like it was going to fill my lungs.

Lying on my back on the cold table, I was surrounded by several strange monsters wearing mortal clothes. They held sharp blades and gradually surrounded the flesh and blood shell on the table.

The first to bear the brunt was a muscular humanoid monster. Its body was so burly that the white doctor's uniform was bulging and almost broken. The exposed elbow joints and metacarpal bones had ferocious bone spurs like blades. In the palm-leaf fan-sized palm was a wet towel filled with a sweet scent.

It was Nello Bax, my old subordinate in the 5th Fusiliers of the Berkshire Brigade.

Nello spread a sweet-smelling cloth over his mouth and nose. A certain intoxicating breath entered his body along with his breath. His stomach instinctively spasmed, and his lungs contracted to expel the harmful gas... Watson suppressed the resistance of his body with a strong mental will. He relaxed his muscles and skin, allowing the earthly knife to easily cut through the hard skin that had been transformed many times and cut the fibers of flesh and blood.

One, two, three, four, five... fourteen, fifteen.

He counted the time in his heart. The highly volatile chloroform gas was mixed with other additives. The anesthetic effect quickly surged to his head, and his eyelids were as heavy as lead... He could still hold on, but he didn't want to hold on any longer.

Watson relaxed his mind and let the anesthetic effect capture him. He drooped his eyes and fell into darkness, as if he was in a coma.

Before his vision completely dimmed, he saw the monster as big as a mountain slowly walking towards him. The sharp black hair on its body pierced through the white surgical gown, and the lush long hair on its face submerged the delicate cotton mask. Only the eyes that were pregnant with blazing thunder were emitting strong light.

Watson probably fell asleep.

But his spirit was hidden with the hidden flapping of the moth in his skull. He still maintained a clear consciousness and could still feel his life body, the place where his soul resided, and the situation of his flesh in the world.

He felt the sharp tip of the knife against his thigh, and the cold foreign body pierced into his flesh. The seemingly tough fibers were completely unable to stop the attack of the sharp metal. The flesh separated to both sides as if it was ordered by Moses, revealing the broken tibial nerve inside.

Then the monsters stopped moving, letting the vitality of life flow along the open wound.

Watson felt a cold breath covering his thighs, and at the same time, he seemed to hear the sound of singing and drumming in unison.

The singing was low, and the drumming rhythm was steady, dong dong stop dong dong stop dong dong stop... The rhythm was neither fast nor slow, and it sounded at a fixed position every second, and the rhythm was like the beating of the heart.

The beating of hearts from all directions reverberated in the small operating room, like a mountain moving towards him.

Although the rhythm and beat did not change, each drum beat became heavier and more powerful, almost comparable to the thunder roaring in the sky.

Watson only felt that his heart seemed to resonate with this rhythmic beat, and each pump of the heart became more and more powerful, almost expanding and bursting out of the chest.

The pure vitality was squeezed out from the beating of the heart, and under the guidance of the drumming, it attached to the high-speed flowing blood, avoiding the knife wounds and gun scars along the way, and rushed straight to the open thigh.

Just like the sweet rain nourishing the dry roots, the broken nerves seemed to be rejuvenated, and the cells on both sides of the broken sections grew rapidly, stretching out tiny buds that were difficult to detect with the naked eye, like two small hands about to hold each other tightly.

The index fingers touched, the middle fingers were connected, and the ring fingers were intertwined... Seeing that the broken nerves were about to heal completely, the pulsating drumming sound stopped abruptly.

The heart lost the resonance of guidance, and the surging vitality had no successor. It was barely half repaired and could no longer continue. It could only dissipate between the thigh muscles, cooperating with the rapid suturing action to accelerate the reunion of the separated flesh and blood.

Watson knew that the treatment was over, and he also understood the other party's intention, which was nothing more than using this as an excuse to further strengthen his desire to recover from the old illness, but he remained silent, pretending to be unconscious, waiting for the effect of the medicine to fade.

It was about the 27th second of the 35th minute that he counted silently in his heart. Watson felt that the effect of the medicine in his body began to dissipate significantly. He trembled his eyelids slightly, ready to wake up.

At thirty-nine minutes and thirty-one seconds, he began to move his fingers.

At forty-two minutes and nine seconds, Watson opened his eyes in a daze, and immediately felt the dazzling light shining down, and he couldn't help squinting his eyes.

"Sir, you're awake."

Nello Bax, who was waiting on the side, was the first to notice the state of Chief John. He stood up from the small stool where he was resting temporarily, and hurriedly went forward to raise the head of the operating table so that Watson could sit up comfortably.

"Nello..."

Watson looked around the operating room. Now only Nello Bax and Winfreys Morgan were present, and the rest of the nurse assistants had left... But he smelled a familiar smell in the room, that is the smell of human blood.

But it was not from his own wound, but from another human... Who was bleeding?

He looked at Dr. Winfreys who had just stood up with an anxious look, and asked anxiously: "Mr. Morgan, was my operation successful?"

Winfreys showed a somewhat regretful expression when he heard this, "I'm sorry, Mr. John, your condition has been delayed for too long..."

Watson seemed to have been struck by a bolt from the blue, his face suddenly darkened, disappointment climbed onto his face, and he sighed with a depressed breath. "Alas..."

Winfreys suddenly turned around and said: "It has been delayed for too long, so that the root of the disease has penetrated into the bone marrow. We can only temporarily relieve the condition. If you want to fully recover, you have to perform at least one more operation."

Watson's eyes suddenly brightened, and an irrepressible joy climbed onto his face. He grinned unconsciously, and his voice was trembling with excitement.

"Really?! Mr. Morgan, you didn't lie to me?! I only need one more operation to fully recover and become a normal person with healthy legs and feet?!!!"

"No, no, no, Mr. John, you misunderstood. I said at least one more operation, not just one more operation... However, as long as you rest and gradually strengthen your body, your condition is indeed likely to be cured. Even if you can't run freely, at least you can walk like a normal person without the help of crutches."

Watson's eyes were a little wet because he saw the dawn of hope. His lips trembled, opened and closed slightly, as if he wanted to say something but stopped. He searched his head but couldn't organize a sentence to express his gratitude at the moment.

In the end, his eyes were full of tears, and he struggled to stretch out his hands, tightly holding Winfreys Morgan, shaking him up and down heavily.

"Thank you, thank you so much, Mr. Morgan!!!"

"I, John Watson, will never forget your kindness. If there is anything I can help you with in the future, just ask!"

"As long as it does not violate the interests of the country, even if it means killing... ahem, even if it means taking risks, I will definitely do it for you!!!"

Winfres showed a satisfied smile, gently patted John's shoulder, and comforted him:

"Alas, Mr. John, you are too polite. Saving patients is what we doctors should do... You should have a good rest first. After a while, we will see how your recovery is, and then we will perform the next operation."

"Nello, take Mr. John back to the inpatient department first, and remember to arrange a quieter ward."

"Yes, Dean Winfres."

Nello moved the old boss who was full of joy to the wheelchair and pushed him to the superior ward that had been arranged long ago.

But behind him, where John could not see, he showed a trace of guilt.