488-490
Added 2025-08-03 13:00:10 +0000 UTCChapter 488: The Rock Queen
Noon.
The cafeteria.
“Adam, this totally makes up for that rare surgery.”
Christina barged in, dropping a bombshell like it was no big deal.
“Keep dreaming,” Adam snorted with a laugh.
“I did the enema and the needle aspiration. That surgery was supposed to be mine,” Christina pressed, not letting it go.
“But you bailed,” Adam said, munching on his food with a grin. “So don’t get your hopes up.”
“Fine, maybe it doesn’t cover that rare surgery, but it could at least cancel out that favor you owe me, right?” Christina finally revealed her real angle.
“Nope,” Adam shook his head. “I earned this one myself, risking Dr. Shepherd’s wrath. You just took off—those eyes of yours didn’t exactly scream ‘I’m handing this surgery over to you.’”
Psh, she thought she could out-negotiate him? Nice try.
No matter how much she flipped out, he wasn’t budging.
“You’re not me! How would you know what my eyes were saying?” Christina shot back confidently. “That’s exactly what they meant.”
“Heh.”
Adam just chuckled, giving her a look that said, “Good luck owing me anything.”
Christina deflated instantly.
She’d been hoping to haggle, but Adam wasn’t giving her an inch. Asking outright for mercy? Nah, she had too much pride for that.
And the real kicker? She couldn’t afford to piss Adam off.
One time, she’d ticked off a nurse and nearly got herself wrecked. If she crossed Adam? She had no doubt the nurses would hear about it and make her life a living hell—probably worse than before. Group payback, hospital style.
Just thinking about it gave her chills.
Women really knew how to get under each other’s skin.
Guess that rare surgery and favor would have to wait for another day.
“Adam,” Meredith walked up, hesitating like she wasn’t sure what to say.
“Don’t worry, the surgery went great,” Adam answered her unspoken question.
Meredith nodded, then clammed up, retreating into her own little world.
With everything blowing up like this, there was no hiding it—the whole hospital knew by now.
A lot of the guys kept looking at her, their eyes a mix of nerves… and excitement.
Yup, you heard that right—excitement. 😳
George and Izzie strolled over with their trays just then.
Izzie had that classic BFF smirk, all sly and knowing.
George, though? His face was dark as a storm cloud.
His goddess Meredith caught up in another wild rumor? It was killing him.
And worse, he couldn’t help but think back to that brief fling with her—nothing wild, just her crying the whole time.
His heart was practically breaking all over again.
“What?” Meredith snapped, her shut-down vibe cracking under Izzie’s shameless grin.
“Nothing,” Izzie said, shaking her head innocently.
Meredith just rolled her eyes.
“Heh heh heh.”
Even chubby Stu waddled over, giggling like a creep—which was rare for him.
“What are you doing here?” Christina and Izzie snapped in unison, dripping with disgust.
Sure, George was chubby too, but he was their buddy.
Stu? He was the grossest kind of fat guy.
Why?
The dude was a total sleaze.
They all knew why he wanted to go into plastic surgery later—word got out, and that specialty’s rep would be toast.
“Come on, don’t be like that,” Stu said, all fake-humble and讨好 (trying to suck up). “We’re all colleagues here~”
“…”
Christina and Izzie didn’t even bother responding.
What could they say? The guy was so pathetic, anything more would’ve been overkill.
Adam shook his head to himself.
The lower you sink, the harder you are to beat.
“Hey, Meredith~”
Stu, ignored by Christina and Izzie, smirked triumphantly and turned to his real target.
Adam, Christina, and Izzie exchanged a look, leaned back, and switched to spectator mode. 🍿
George, though, was fuming. “Just talk normal, dude! Quit with the creepy voice!”
“What’s your deal?” Meredith grumbled.
Even a seasoned pro like her couldn’t handle Stu’s sleazy energy.
“Nothing,” Stu said, still giggling like an idiot. “Just saying hi. You free tonight? Joe’s bar—drinks on me!”
“…”
The whole table went dead silent.
Everyone knew Stu was a shameless perv, but this? This was next-level.
Just last night, Meredith had been at Joe’s with Steven—right before his surgery.
And now, with her latest spicy gossip blowing up, Stu dropping this invite was basically him screaming, “Don’t go thinking I’m some delicate flower you need to spare~”
The guy was a total horndog.
Unmatched.
Meredith’s face flared with embarrassment and rage. She shot up, ready to snap—but one look at Stu’s “honest” chubby face and the curious stares around her, and she grabbed her barely-touched tray and stormed off.
“Shameless!”
“Gross!”
Christina and Izzie gagged, grabbed their trays, and bailed too.
“You—” George clenched his fists, looking like he might swing, but he held back, snatched his tray, and left.
“What’d I do?” Stu whined, playing the victim.
“Alright, you’ve disgusted everyone enough. Chill,” Adam said, half-joking.
They were on the same team, so he was closer to Stu than most.
Plus, the guy’s sleazy vibe was kinda funny—in a twisted way.
And Stu wasn’t clueless; he knew who he could mess with.
So Adam didn’t mind him too much.
“Heh heh heh.”
Stu dropped the pitiful act fast, leaning in with a hushed giggle. “Adam, you know Meredith has a nickname now, right?”
“What nickname?” Adam perked up.
It definitely wasn’t anything flattering… but he was curious.
“A lot of the guys are calling her…” Stu waggled his eyebrows and rambled on.
Adam just heard a bunch of bleeps.
But from Stu’s lip movements and goofy face, he could sum it up as “The Rock Queen Who Breaks Guts.” 😏
Adam’s mouth twitched.
Those seven little words packed a lot of meaning if you thought about it.
“A ton of the guys are all nervous and hyped about it,” Stu said, finally audible again.
“If that’s the case, you’ve got some guts asking out the Rock Queen,” Adam teased. “Not scared?”
“Nah, I’m good!” Stu puffed up proudly. “I’ve got a low center of gravity—nothing to fear!”
“…”
Adam’s lip twitched again. Words failed him.
Even he was floored by Stu’s shameless perv energy this time.
The guy owned his flaws so hard, even a soap opera villain would have to bow down and say, “Stu, you’re something else.”
“Stu,” Adam finally said.
“Yeah?”
“Tone it down a bit,” Adam warned. “This version of you belongs in a 2D anime world. Keep acting this wild in real life, and someone’s gonna beat you to a pulp someday.”
Chapter 489: The Eye-Opening Sea King
Medical Center. Cafeteria.
The chubby guy, Stu, was acting all wild and rowdy, like something straight out of Battle Through the Heavens. Adam, though, was starting to feel queasy. He just put down his knife and fork, grabbed his tray, and bailed.
“Dr. Duncan!”
He’d barely stepped out of the cafeteria when he ran smack into John Carter, a med intern, strolling over with a lunchbox in hand.
“Carter.”
Adam kept walking, giving him a quick nod.
For your average worker, slacking off and stretching out lunch breaks—maybe even sneaking in a paid bathroom break—was the ultimate win. The longer the lunch, the better. But for Adam, who was basically earning extra years of life, shorter lunches were the goal. These days, he was strong enough to hold his own. Sure, his status kept him from going all out, but in the ER, saving a life every couple of days was enough to balance out his lifespan usage and gains.
In other words, if things kept going like this, he could keep it up forever—or at least until humans didn’t need doctors anymore, replaced by some sci-fi gizmo like the all-in-one medical pods from Elysium. By then, though, he’d be “Adam Trillionaire,” and healing people wouldn’t even be on his radar.
John Carter blinked, then hurried to catch up.
“Lesson two,” Adam said, glancing over at Carter, who was practically jogging to keep pace. “You’ve gotta adapt to what your supervising doctor needs. Us higher-ups are usually swamped, so half the time, you’ll be like this—rushing to give a quick, sharp report while they’re on their way to the OR.”
“Yes, Dr. Duncan!” Carter nodded like his head was on a spring.
“Something up?” Adam prompted.
“Oh, uh, yeah!” Carter fumbled, then held out his lunchbox with a grin. “I braised some pig’s feet. Wanna try it, Dr. Duncan? Tell me what you think?”
Adam chuckled and stopped in his tracks.
They’d reached the ER by now. The sharpest nurse at the station—let’s call her the “know-it-all nurse”—spotted Carter just standing there with his lunchbox, no follow-through. She smacked her forehead, strode over, popped the lid off the lunchbox, and grabbed a clean glove.
“Dr. Duncan?” she said, holding it out.
“Thanks, Violet,” Adam replied, all smooth and practiced. He held out his hands, letting her slip the glove on like a pro. Then he picked up one of the braised pig’s feet, gave it a once-over, and, under Carter’s eager stare, took a bite.
“So? How is it?” Carter asked, practically bouncing.
“Too sweet,” Adam said, shaking his head. He set the pig’s foot down and clapped Carter on the shoulder. “But I appreciate the effort.”
With that, he walked off.
“Too sweet?” Carter frowned. “Didn’t taste sweet to me.”
“Hmm, it’s decent work,” the know-it-all nurse said, already chowing down on the piece Adam had bitten. “Everyone’s got different tastes. Dr. Duncan leans more Eastern—our Western stuff tends to be sweeter. We’re used to it, so we don’t notice.”
Westerners love their sweets, after all. Candy, donuts—you name it. To someone not into it, it’s like sugar overload.
“Eastern tastes?” Carter looked confused. “But isn’t Dr. Duncan American?”
“Sure, but some Americans are all about Eastern flavors,” she said, happily munching away. “I’ve noticed a bunch of times—his assistant brings him legit Eastern dishes. If you wanna impress him, find a real-deal Eastern chef and learn a trick or two. He’ll definitely take notice.”
“That sounds like a hassle,” Carter groaned.
“Hah!” The nurse smirked. “A hassle? You’ve got no idea how many people would kill for a chance to ‘hassle’ over him. Next year, when he’s a resident, med students like you won’t even get close. I’m only giving you pointers ‘cause you seem decent. No effort, no reward—if you’re expecting handouts, steer clear of Dr. Duncan!”
“No, no, I didn’t mean it like that!” Carter backpedaled fast. “Next break I get, I’ll track down an authentic Eastern chef and learn something good.”
“What about this pig’s foot?” She’d finished one and was eyeing the last one in the box.
“You like it? It’s yours,” Carter said, finally catching a hint.
“Nice.” She grabbed it with a satisfied nod, then gave him a look. “Since you’re showing some heart, I’ll do you one more solid.”
Meanwhile, over on patreon:belamy20, maybe someone’s cooking up their own story—worth a peek if you’re into that kinda thing.
She crooked a finger, motioning Carter to follow her to the nurse’s station. Rifling through a drawer, she pulled out a card and handed it to him. “This is the chef from Dr. Duncan’s favorite restaurant. If you’ve got the guts to learn from him directly, it’ll save you a ton of trouble.”
“Thanks!” Carter said, genuinely grateful.
That little tip? A total game-changer. Most people wouldn’t dream of it—an amateur begging lessons from a top-tier chef? Get real. But Carter’s family wasn’t loaded or anything, just solid middle-class—above average, which, let’s be honest, already puts you ahead of 70-80% of folks. Push time forward, with wealth piling up in fewer hands, not dragging down the average might mean outdoing 90% of people. Getting “averaged out” is gonna be the real curse someday.
Time flies in a hospital. Blink, and weeks go by.
The big news lately? Peggy finally “gave birth” to Adam’s “first kid”—the Duncan-Adler Formula. He dropped a paper on it, and the medical world went nuts. Pair that with some “casual” leaked footage of his lecture with the legendary Alice Gray circulating among docs, and Adam Duncan, genius doctor, was getting serious props from the pros. Thrilled, he made sure to thank Peggy big-time.
Fast forward to November 1st—Halloween in the States. Adam was at work as usual. He’d planned to skip cooking after his shift and head to New Jersey to hang with Peggy for the holiday, but she wasn’t feeling it. So, he stayed late at the hospital instead. With all those trick-or-treaters out there, someone was bound to end up unlucky—and the medical center was buzzing.
Late that night, back at his apartment, he was grinding through some math study—slow and steady wins the race, right? Then came a knock.
He peeked through the security cam and cracked a grin. Standing outside was a tall, slim figure in a black hooded robe. Sensing him watching, she glanced up at the camera, revealing a face half-covered by a brass filigree mask. Straight out of Eyes Wide Shut. Who else but Alice Kidman?
Adam opened the door, letting her in. She stepped inside without a word, peeled off the mask, and shrugged off the robe. Underneath? A tight white fish-scale outfit, a silver crown perched on her head, long wet hair clinging to her cold, stunning face. In her early twenties, dressed like that, she was drop-dead gorgeous.
“I love Halloween,” Adam thought to himself, and that was the last thing on his mind.
Chapter 490: Marvel vs. DC Showdown
Late night.
The apartment.
“Who are you?”
“Atlanna, Queen of Atlantis!”
“Atlantis?”
“…”
Adam put on his serious face, representing humanity on land as he held his “first meeting” with the ancient Earth civilization of Atlantis, hailing from the ocean depths.
The wheels of history turned slowly.
One small step for Adam, one giant leap for mankind.
Okay, fine.
This isn’t some superhero fantasy story—it’s just everyday life.
Totally fake. All in Adam’s head.
Truth is, Alice didn’t show up for anything dramatic. She just wanted to chat about a surgery case from earlier that day.
Yup, the power of a good role model is unreal.
Ever since Adam—total rockstar that he is—kept showing off his hardcore dedication to learning, it’s rubbed off on everyone at the medical center. Doctors are stepping up their game left and right.
Alice is the perfect example.
She used to just want to coast through as an eye doctor, rake in the big bucks, and live the high life.
Now? Her goals have shifted a bit.
Still all about the money and luxury, sure—but she’s also chasing real skill in medicine, not just skating by anymore.
And that’s all thanks to Adam.
They were deep in discussion when—ding-dong—the doorbell rang again.
Adam and the “Queen of Atlantis” peeked at the security monitor.
The queen went icy cold in an instant, her vibe dropping to subzero.
Adam flashed an awkward grin.
Standing outside was a woman in a sleek, tight-fitting uniform—looking every bit the badass female agent. Like she knew Adam was watching, she whipped out an ID and held it up to the camera. It had “S.H.I.E.L.D.” stamped on it, complete with the logo.
“Holy crap! S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn’t mess around!” Adam groaned inwardly. “The Queen of Atlantis barely steps on land, and they’ve already sent someone—freaking Deputy Director no less! But hold up, can a Marvel bigshot really boss around a DC superhuman?”
Then again, knowing S.H.I.E.L.D.’s bully vibes, if they could pull it off, they totally would.
Adam’s head was starting to hurt.
Normally, people called ahead and set up a time—no awkward run-ins.
But tonight? Halloween. The night when all the freaks and ghouls come out to play.
Not a single person had bothered to check with him first.
Ugh.
He should’ve never handed out those custom costumes. Now they were all crashing his place at once, catching him totally off guard.
The late fall night was getting weirdly hot all of a sudden.
Then—boom—Adam’s vision went dark, and he was out cold.
The next day.
Medical center.
“Alice, what happened to your face?”
Steven Murphy spotted Alice first thing in the morning and couldn’t hide his shock.
“It’s nothing,” Alice said, touching the bandage on her forehead with a frown. “Last night, some drunk lunatic dressed up as S.H.I.E.L.D.’s deputy director was running around grabbing people. She shoved me, and I banged my head.”
“S.H.I.E.L.D. deputy director?” Steven blinked. “You mean Maria Hill?”
“You know her?” Alice shot him a surprised look.
Last night, she’d definitely heard some jerk call the woman “Agent Hill.”
Not her real name, of course—same way that jerk had dubbed her “Atlanna, Queen of Atlantis.”
That chick was obviously playing some role too.
A gorgeous gal like Alice? No way she’d waste time reading comics or knowing random characters.
“She’s from Marvel comics,” Steven explained with a chuckle. “Usually only nerdy guys are into that stuff—or dress up for Halloween. Didn’t think a woman would cosplay as Agent Hill. She must be a hardcore Marvel fan.”
Hmmm.
Don’t let his rich-kid status fool you—Steven’s read his share of comics. He knew all about geeky dudes dressing up as iconic female characters.
Some got way into it.
Like, cosplay Catwoman and strut around yelling, “I feel so powerful now~” with their chests puffed out.
“Pfft,” Alice scoffed. “Yeah, right. More like some creep who’s obsessed with Maria Hill paid some chick to wear that outfit. No normal woman’s running around dressed like that!”
Just thinking about it pissed her off.
Oh, and speaking of—patreon:belamy20—big props to the creators keeping the good vibes alive! 😊
Anyway, back to last night: that shameless jerk didn’t even tell the chick to leave when things got awkward. Nope, he let her in!
Then he kept glancing at Alice with this over-the-top “I’m so sorry” face.
Please. She’d grown up around casinos—she’d seen every type of sleaze there is.
That look? It was code for “Please back off first.”
And “back off” could mean a lot of things—none of them just “leave the room.”
No way she was putting up with that.
Sure, she had her backup plans, but being treated like some sidekick? Hard pass.
Lucky for her, that chick had some spine too—she didn’t even entertain the idea.
The second she saw the vibe, she flipped out and stormed toward the door.
Then, somehow, it turned into a screaming match between her and Alice. Next thing you know, they were throwing hands.
What the hell!
That chick didn’t fight like a typical girl either—big, wild swings with some serious strength behind them.
Alice wasn’t ready and took a hit—got shoved and smashed her forehead on the bedframe.
But she wasn’t some pushover either. She jumped up, grabbed the chick, and went full-on with the scrappy girl-fight skills she’d honed back in the day.
Hair-pulling.
Gut-punching.
Clothes-ripping.
And some moves she didn’t even want to think about.
But they worked.
Meanwhile, that jerk just stood there, flailing his hands and whining in this exaggerated, sing-songy voice: “Oh nooo, don’t fight, ladies, don’t fight~”
So fake!
It felt like he was mocking them.
Alice was so pissed—and offended—that she and the chick teamed up to jump him.
Too bad his “brute strength saves the day” rep wasn’t a lie.
He pinned them both down—one hand each—like it was nothing.
After that, it’s all a blur.
All she remembered was the chick snarling, “If I’d brought my gun today, you’d be done…”
Blah blah blah.
Alice tuned it out, too zoned out to care.
The threats went on so long, and the vibe was so off, they didn’t even sound intimidating—just flirty in a weird way.
She just rolled her eyes, exhausted.
The chick kicked her torn-up uniform aside, grabbed some clothes from the jerk’s closet like she’d done it a million times, and slammed the door on her way out.
Then that jerk had the nerve to laugh smugly: “If Howard finds out about this, he’s gonna be so jealous he’ll explode.”
Pfft!
This “Howard” guy’s gotta be a perv too.
Who actually enjoys watching girls fight?
“You’re probably right,” Steven said, not about to argue with his goddess. “Does it still hurt? Want me to deal with her for you?”
“Nah,” Alice said, a glint in her eye as she shook her head. “She didn’t get off easy either. I got her good a few times—trust me, she’s hurting way worse than me. Might not even make it to work today.”
“Heh.”
Steven’s eyes widened a bit. Seeing this feisty side of his perfect goddess? It was new—and honestly, kinda adorable.
He couldn’t help but grin.