Observation Room – Operating Room
A few minutes earlier…
Unlike Adam, who performed surgeries entirely on his own while Leonard simply observed and exchanged looks with Dr. Burke for fun, things were different for George O'Malley, the chubby, timid intern. Taking a deep breath, he began performing an appendectomy under the guidance of attending physician Dr. Burke.
This was the standard process—an attending physician instructs, the intern operates. If they handle it well, they proceed step by step. If they struggle, they step aside. How much they're allowed to do depends entirely on how much the attending is willing to let go.
Leonard knew Adam's true capabilities, so he had no reservations about letting him operate solo, not even offering a single word of guidance.
Dr. Burke, on the other hand, had intended to use this surgery as a warning to others, so he didn't trust the timid, chubby George one bit.
"Use more force. Human muscle is tough—cut through it," Burke instructed.
However, as George successfully removed the appendix, Burke's expression became complicated.
According to his original plan, George was supposed to struggle, fail, and then be reprimanded harshly.
But with Adam setting the bar so high earlier, if George performed too poorly, it would make Burke's team look bad in comparison.
Worse yet, it could raise the question—why did the hospital assign the best intern to Leonard while giving him a weaker one? Was the hospital showing favoritism?
Even though Burke knew that wasn't the case, others might speculate.
This left him in a dilemma.
"Careful not to rupture the cecum."
Seeing George getting a little overconfident after successfully removing the appendix, Burke decided to give him a heads-up. He couldn't afford to let Leonard outshine him too much.
There would be plenty of other chances to make an example out of someone—this time, he'd let it slide.
George nodded in acknowledgment, but he didn't slow down at all. In his mind, he saw Adam's smooth, confident surgical movements and Meredith Grey's unwavering support for Adam.
"If Adam can do it, so can I!"
"Meredith, watch closely—I, George O'Malley, am a real man!"
A confident smile formed under his mask.
And then…
"You ruptured the cecum!"
Burke's expression darkened instantly.
He had initially planned to patiently guide George, but now? A lost cause.
Time to make an example out of him.
"He's bleeding now, and fecal matter is leaking out. What's your next move?"
"Uh… uh…"
George froze, completely stunned.
"My technique was just as smooth as Adam's… how did this happen?"
"Think!" Burke barked. "Start suctioning! Before he loses too much blood, locate the sutures!"
Turning to the nurse, he ordered, "Get him a clamp!"
"Blood pressure is dropping!" the nurse alerted.
George stood frozen, unable to move.
This kind of paralysis was common among rookies—extreme anxiety and fear shutting down their ability to function.
"Bury your fear and act! What are you waiting for? Start suctioning!"
Burke, despite his frustration, still upheld his duty as a mentor and gave George one last chance.
Unfortunately, George remained frozen.
The blood pressure monitor alarm went off.
"Dr. Burke?" The nurse's voice carried urgency.
"Get out of my way, idiot!"
"Someone take him out of my OR—I don't want to see him!"
Burke shoved the stunned George aside and swiftly took over, stopping the bleeding, stabilizing the patient's vitals, and suturing the wound.
George stood there with his hands still raised, shame washing over him as he glanced at his fellow interns observing from the gallery.
Moments ago, he really thought he could do this…
"He's a 007!"
"Yeah, 007!"
"What's a 007?"
"A license-to-kill agent for the Queen of England—he legally kills people!"
A murmur spread through the room.
Adam, who had just been enjoying his system rewards, glanced at the first person who spoke—an intern who got up and left without looking back, exuding a cool, aloof demeanor.
"Could he be a worthy rival?" Adam mused.
But as the intern disappeared from view, Adam quickly lost interest and returned to admiring the notification on his system panel:
+0.001 lifespan.
For the past 11 years, Adam had studied how the system worked. He had learned that performing good deeds himself earned him merit points, which converted into extra lifespan.
This was the first significant breakthrough in his plan to lead a simple yet extraordinary career in medicine.
+0.001 years might seem small, but this was just an appendectomy.
Back when he helped an elderly woman cross the street or massaged an old man's back for months, he had only earned +0.05. Even saving a reckless kid from running into traffic had only given him +0.01.
By comparison, a non-life-saving surgery granting +0.001 in under 30 minutes? That was an incredible deal.
If he could perform 50 surgeries, that would add up.
At a rate of 10 minor surgeries a day, in just five days, he could earn the same as months of minor good deeds.
Of course, there was no way an intern would get to perform that many surgeries.
But even at a rate of one surgery per day, working 300 days a year, he could earn 0.3 extra years annually.
At this stage, since he couldn't yet perform major life-saving surgeries, this reduced his lifespan consumption rate from 1 year per point to 0.7, significantly slowing down his losses and extending his life.
With more effort and more support from Leonard, by the time he became a full-fledged resident, he might just break even—gaining as much lifespan as he consumed.
That way, he wouldn't have to worry about dying young.
Now, the only question was—how much lifespan would he earn from assisting in surgeries?
Luckily, he was about to find out.
In a few days, Leonard had arranged for him to assist in a heart bypass surgery.
Adam predicted that participating in such a procedure should count as "personally doing good" and would likely grant points.
Probably not as much as performing a solo minor surgery, but over time, it would add up.
After all, there was no such thing as too much lifespan.
The First 48-Hour Shift Continues…
Late at night.
Bianca yawned deeply, shaking her head in an attempt to stay awake.
"If you're tired, take a quick nap," Adam suggested. "Doctors, especially residents, need to learn to grab rest whenever they can, or they won't last."
"Then how are you still so awake?" Bianca asked enviously.
"I have great stamina." Adam gave a reserved smile. "I can handle 48 hours without sleep."
"I can do it too! I'll grab some coffee." Bianca yawned again.
"Go easy on the coffee," Adam warned.
He remembered that in the future, Bianca's life spiraled out of control after she was diagnosed with cancer.
Of course, coffee itself wasn't the culprit, but excessive caffeine was a central nervous stimulant—too much of anything was bad, especially stimulants.
"Thanks," Bianca said gratefully, her eyes gleaming.
Suddenly, she didn't feel so tired anymore.
vote and read more inpatreon
belamy20