Thien Anh had stocked the freezers with enough prepped meat to sustain the three of them—plus their "guest"—for a month.
At the dining table, Lam Linh was "battling" her meal.
She no longer maintained the poise of a lady or the composure of a doctor. She shoveled rice into her mouth, grabbing chunks of fatty braised pork and devouring them with primal intensity. Tears streamed down her face, falling into her bowl, yet she didn't stop for a single breath.
How long had it been since she'd tasted a hot meal? Since she'd had real meat and broth? A week? A month?
Thien Anh sat opposite her, observing in silence. He didn't mock her; instead, he nudged the bowl of soup closer to her.
"Eat slowly. No one is going to take it from you. You'll choke."
Lam Linh lifted the bowl, drained the broth in a long gulp, and wiped her eyes. Her voice was thick with emotion.
"Forgive me… I've lost my manners. But this… it's incredible."
"How long were you starved?"
"Since the hospital fell. I've been living on IV fluids and multivitamins," Lam Linh let out a bitter laugh. "If not for that stash of medicine, I'd probably be like those other girls… bartering my body for a packet of instant noodles."
Thien Anh raised an eyebrow. "I thought they were coerced?"
"Coercion exists, but so does survival," Lam Linh's gaze darkened. "When hunger erodes reason, dignity becomes the cheapest commodity. The men who hoard the food are kings. If you want to live, you serve them."
Thien Anh nodded, offering no judgment. In his world, survival was the only absolute truth. He looked at the gaunt girl before him and remarked bluntly:
"You're quite the prize, though. Pretty face, good figure, slim waist. If I had arrived a few days later, I doubt you would have escaped being their toy."
Lam Linh didn't take offense. Instead, she lifted her head, her eyes suddenly igniting with an icy, lethal radiance.
"You're right. If pushed to the edge, I would have done it. I would have endured the humiliation, let them trample over me…"
She gripped her chopsticks so hard her knuckles turned a porcelain white.
"…But I would not have died. I must live. I have a debt of blood yet to be repaid. Until I see that person in hell, I refuse to die."
In that moment, Thien Anh saw a familiar shadow in her eyes.
Hatred. That cold, relentless light—a source of energy more potent than any food. It was the same look he saw in his own reflection every morning.
"One of my own," Thien Anh thought. He smirked, and for the first time, it was a genuine expression.
"Good. Hold on to that hate. It'll keep you alive longer than hope ever will."
Lam Linh snapped out of her dark reverie, looking at him with newfound curiosity.
"Are you the same? I feel… like you understand this feeling perfectly."
"Not interested in sharing," Thien Anh cut her off coldly, standing up. "Finished? If so, get to work. My life is in your hands."
Lam Linh puffed out her cheeks, muttering, "One compliment and you're already back to being insufferable."
Yet she rose quickly, wiping her mouth and reclaiming the professional aura of a surgeon.
"I need thirty minutes for prep and sterilization. Go to the surgical suite and wait."
...
Thien Anh's makeshift surgical suite was, in reality, a repurposed high-tech laboratory.
When Lam Linh stepped inside, she nearly dropped her tray of instruments in shock.
"My god! A Dräger ventilator? A multi-parameter vitals monitor? A shadowless LED surgical lamp?"
She brushed her fingers over the sleek, pristine equipment. Even in a national-tier hospital, these were rare luxuries. Yet this mysterious man possessed a complete set.
"Mr. Huy… who exactly are you? An arms dealer or the secret son of a hospital director?"
Thien Anh lay shirtless on the operating table, eyes closed, centering himself.
"Less curiosity. More focus."
"Understood."
Lam Linh donned her gloves and mask, establishing an IV line.
"I'm going to begin anesthesia now. Count down from ten."
She injected Propofol into his vein.
"Ten… nine… eight…"
Thien Anh lay still. One minute passed. Two.
He opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling, then turned to look at the bewildered Lam Linh.
"What's taking so long? Is the drug expired?"
Lam Linh broke into a cold sweat. "Impossible! That dose could drop an elephant! Why are you still wide awake?"
She increased the dosage. Nothing. Thien Anh's mutated physiology was purging the foreign substance with terrifying efficiency. The moment the anesthetic hit his bloodstream, his hyper-evolved white blood cells neutralized it.
"This is a disaster…" Lam Linh trembled. "If I can't put you under, I can't operate. Opening your chest is a major procedure. The pain will cause you to go into traumatic shock and die on the table."
The tension in the room was suffocating. Thien Anh frowned. Was he to die simply because he was too strong?
Just then, a jade-green shadow glided onto the operating table.
Azure Sky. She reared her head, looking at Thien Anh, then at the useless syringe in Lam Linh's hand.
"Hiiiiiss…" (Let me.)
Lam Linh shrieked, "Ah! Get away! This is a sterile environment!"
Thien Anh signaled for her to be quiet. He looked at the small serpent.
"Can you do it?"
Azure Sky nodded. She glided toward Thien Anh's wrist, baring two tiny, needle-sharp fangs.
"Thanh…" Thien Anh smiled faintly. "Be gentle."
Prick.
Azure Sky bit lightly into the vein of Thien Anh's wrist. She didn't pump lethal venom or corrosive acid; instead, she secreted a minuscule, perfectly calibrated dose of high-potency neurotoxin.
A sensation of glacial numbness spread instantly from his arm to his brain. Thien Anh's heavy eyelids began to droop.
"Well… done…"
He murmured as he drifted into the abyss.
Lam Linh's heart nearly stopped. She rushed to the vitals monitor.
Bip… Bip… Bip…
Heart rate stable. Blood pressure normal. Oxygen saturation excellent.
"Miraculous…" Lam Linh stared, jaw dropped, at the small snake now coiled beside its master like a silent guardian. "Snake venom as anesthesia? This world has gone truly mad."
She took a deep, steadying breath and gripped the scalpel.
"Alright. Let's begin. Don't you dare die on me, you insufferable man."