The alley of the Jinshui Fish Market is very narrow, flanked by short old brick houses.
Vendors on tricycles delivering goods, their wheels rolling over the uneven pavement, making a "clunk clunk" sound.
In the seafood shops, baskets full of green clams and white shrimp are stacked; ice fragments melting on the concrete ground, the salty fishy odor permeating the whole street.
Deep within this old coastal district, lies a hidden black clinic without a sign.
In the waiting room outside, an old TV is crackling and buzzing with the midday news.
Inside, the transformed operating room, the shadowless lamp shining blindingly bright.
On the operating table, Fire Dragon is stripped to the waist, with his chest and abdomen wounds gaping open.
His skin, repeatedly wiped with antiseptic, glows with a cold sheen.
Three figures surround the table.
The surgeon wears a mask and a cloth cap, revealing only a pair of eyes.
