429-431

Chapter 429: Who Else?! 

Medical Center. 

Teaching Room. 

"Yes." 

Under everyone’s watchful eyes, Adam nodded, confirming Dr. Burke’s suspicion. 

A burst of murmurs immediately filled the room. 

"Wow! 

Unbelievable!" 

"He's just boasting." 

"How is that even possible?" 

"He even factored that in—this is too over the top." 

"I don’t believe it; he must have just been guessing." 

"I don’t believe it either!" 

"Even if he was guessing, accounting for that detail is still terrifying." 

Everyone was chattering away, unable to believe that Adam could pull this off, yet they were all deeply impressed by his meticulous attention to detail. 

It really challenged everyone’s usual way of thinking. 

"Dr. Duncan, do you have any evidence to back that up?" 

Dr. Burke’s eyes narrowed as he questioned. 

"Of course." 

Adam calmly began explaining his approach. 

Ever since Dr. Gray pioneered this classic surgery, countless subsequent heart surgery data have been recorded—data that he recited one after another. 

They cover surgeries on children, teenagers, adults, middle-aged people, the elderly, men, women, “good men,” and even intersex individuals, among others. 

"Thanks to Dr. Gray’s breakthrough, we now have tens of thousands of cases. For time’s sake, I won’t list them all—just a few dozen as a sample." 

Adam continued, "Using big data analysis, I took the heart surgery data for young girls that Dr. Burke performed and applied it to the original classic procedure, making the necessary adjustments. Admittedly, these are just approximate theoretical figures, but given our current stage of exploration, this is as far as we can go." 

The room fell silent. 

The camera crew quickly snapped photos of everyone’s reactions. 

They were professionals who knew how rare a moment like this was. 

Normally, they wouldn’t take on such a small side job, but they couldn’t resist the generous money Adam offered. 

Now, though, they felt like they were filming a movie—the energy was infectious. 

Hmm. 

“We’re not doing this for the money—we’re doing it for the art!” 

The lead photographer, clearly brimming with excitement, thought to himself. 

As the saying goes, a photographer who doesn’t dream of directing isn’t really a good photographer! 

With such a captivating subject, a charismatic lead, and this incredible, raw scene, once the footage is out, his directorial debut is guaranteed to be a smash hit. 

Who wants to just be a photographer when you can be a director? 

And he wasn’t just daydreaming about it either. 

Many great directors started out as photographers. 

If others can do it, why can’t he? 

At that moment, he even pictured himself basking in success as a director. 

No more hiding behind the camera. 

No more spending free time doing cheesy photo shoots for second-rate actresses and wannabe stars that tarnish the profession. 

He could soon be discussing life, dreams, and scripts with top-tier actresses, fully immersing himself in the lead role’s mindset to create even better films. 

He would be the king of the world! 

"Did you record every piece of data from all the follow-up surgeries after that groundbreaking operation?" 

After a while, someone asked hesitantly from behind the camera. 

"I did my homework," Adam replied with a modest smile. 

"Out of tens of thousands of surgeries, you remember them all?" 

Another person pressed, incredulity clear in their tone. 

"I have a pretty good memory," Adam replied modestly. 

"And from all that data, you just casually derived all these conclusions?" 

Yet another voice questioned. 

"I'm pretty good at math—I’m sensitive to numbers," Adam said, even more self-effacingly this time. 

He was really keeping humble now. 

In the realm of mathematics, he was just getting started—a true newbie, so to speak. 

Well, for Peggy, that’s just the way he is… 

Silence fell over the room again; many were simply dumbfounded. 

Damn it! 

You think you’re good? 

And you call that “good”? 

Then what are we? 

Trash? 

What happened next was even more explosive. 

Every time Adam proposed a new extension of the theory—expanding on either a hypothetical or a real branch surgery with the legendary Alice Gray—someone would immediately jump in with a tricky, off-the-wall question. 

It was like the hottest trend on the internet, the first to break the news! 

They suspected Adam was just showing off. 

All of what had happened earlier seemed too meticulously planned. 

No one could be that extraordinary! 

In their world, there was simply no room for a peer as brilliant as him! 

So, unmasking Adam as a fraud became the unspoken goal for most. 

They bombarded him with every possible question they could think of. 

If Adam failed to answer even one, it would prove their point—and they’d finally feel validated. 

But to their astonishment, no matter what they asked, Adam answered each question swiftly and accurately. 

This didn’t seem pre-planned at all. 

After all, even they didn’t know what questions would come next, and some queries even veered off-topic entirely. 

"Could it be?" 

"Could it be?" 

"Could it be?"  

That classic exclamation echoed in everyone’s mind. 

Even if they were reluctant to admit it, the only explanation was that Adam truly was a genius beyond belief. 

An intern’s theoretical knowledge was unbelievably vast—almost to an absurd extent. 

Could a true top-tier genius really be this advanced? 

"Earlier, Dr. Gray said that Adam's theoretical knowledge rivals anyone's, and his technical skills are on par with a newly promoted attending—I have no doubt about that." 

George, seated in the front row, murmured, "Now I see, Dr. Gray truly is one of a kind. Her insight is unmatched—I’m convinced." 

This rapid-fire Q&A session was the ultimate test of one’s true theoretical prowess. 

When senior doctors lead rounds with interns, why do they exude so much authority? 

It’s because the interns must study hard just to be able to answer, while the seniors effortlessly field questions off the cuff. 

Sometimes, even when the interns know they’re right, they hesitate to challenge the seniors publicly. 

They’re afraid that a senior might ask a question they hadn’t even considered, exposing their ignorance. 

After all, medicine is profoundly intricate. 

For the same condition, there are countless interpretations. 

Oncologists see tumor symptoms. 

Immunologists see immune responses. 

Neurologists see neurological issues. 

Until a definitive diagnosis is made and treatment proves effective, no one can be absolutely sure. 

Until then, whoever can best explain the condition and exude the most confidence—convincing patients and peers alike—becomes the authority, gaining the upper hand. 

That’s how technical authority is established, along with the rules that come with it! 

"Excellent! Excellent!" 

The photographer with directorial dreams kept filming, shouting excitedly, "Who else? Come on, more! Don’t stop!" 

But after that round of rapid-fire questioning, everyone was completely stumped by Adam. 

Their minds went blank—they couldn’t think of another question, left only in sheer disbelief. 

Chapter 430: The Queen’s Gambit 

Medical Center. Classroom. 

After Adam stunned everyone with his show-stopping performance, his very first public lecture was deemed an outright success. 

Afterward, aside from Christina—who kept herself notably active—the atmosphere quickly reverted to that initial back-and-forth between Adam and Dr. Gray. Adam wasn’t looking to stir up more trouble. Showing off a bit when the moment calls for it is one thing, but when someone who’s already overwhelmed insists on flaunting their brilliance, that’s a whole other matter. Too much can be as bad as too little. Besides, he hadn’t forgotten his original goal: to learn. 

So, he stuck around with Alice Gray to watch the entire surgery recording from start to finish. The procedure lasted several hours—and with Adam continuously branching off into hypothetical variants—the session didn’t wrap up until 2 AM, lasting a full eight hours. Except for the one person called away by the pager, not a single attendee left early—not even for a restroom break. Their envy of the fact that Adam was “just an intern” was set aside, and everyone treated the lecture as a riveting exchange between two titans of medicine. It was chock-full of substance with not a single dull moment. As the novels back in the East would say: this is the ultimate manual of unmatched skills! 

After years of grueling residency—pleasing superiors on one end and dealing with idiotic interns on the other—the only way to truly learn was to absorb every bit of experience. Routine cases and standard procedures, although repetitive, only earned you so many “experience points.” If you were lucky enough to encounter a classic, challenging case—one that could seriously boost your résumé—you’d have to scramble for a chance to learn from the attending’s masterful performance. That’s why surgical residencies can last five, six, seven, or even eight years. 

What Adam and Alice Gray accomplished in this public lecture was extraordinary: they took one classic surgery and, like a branching network, covered virtually every possible variant and twist. These were the hard-won, practical lessons of legendary medical experts. Learn them well—and after you’ve performed a few cases yourself—then you’ll rarely find any real difficulty when a similar case comes along. If that isn’t the ultimate secret manual, what is? 

Did you notice how Dr. Burke, Dr. Sheppard, and even Chief of Surgery Richard sat in the back, completely absorbed, not taking their eyes off the proceedings? 

After the session ended, a photographer excitedly approached Adam. 

“Dr. Duncan, may I speak with you for a minute…” he began, confessing his dream of breaking into show business and asking Adam for permission to film a movie. 

“Sorry,” Adam replied with a shake of his head. “Setting aside any issues regarding the doctors’ rights to their likenesses, I’m a physician. I hold these lectures to give my colleagues a chance to learn together. Making a movie isn’t on my radar right now.” 

“Dr. Duncan, this could really boost your fame…” the photographer pressed. 

“I don’t care about fame,” Adam said firmly. “I’m a professional, and I care about how the medical community sees me. Turning a serious, professional exchange like this into a movie might make me more popular with the public, but it would undermine my credibility among professionals. So let’s not even go there.” 

Half of what he said was true—he really didn’t want a movie made at this point. After all, he was still just an intern who hadn’t even passed the residency exam, let alone earned his license as an attending. For the foreseeable future, his fate would depend on the respect he earned from the medical community. Sure, boosting one’s profile can influence opinions, but that influence is a double-edged sword. The benefits are obvious, yet the risk is that a movie—with its inherent embellishments and touches of inauthenticity—could strip away the aura of a true medical genius. Even if a film were based on real events, it would always contain an element of fiction. Adam’s performance was already larger-than-life; making a movie out of it would render it fake. It just wouldn’t be worth it. 

Once he’d firmly established his reputation in the field—earning undeniable acclaim as a genius doctor, becoming an attending, opening his own practice, and running his own show—then making a movie would truly maximize his benefits. And even then, he wouldn’t let a photographer use him as a practice subject for directing. Professional work calls for professionals—and he wasn’t short on money. 

The photographer was full of pipe dreams. He even tried to lure Adam with promises of big money, but remembering Adam’s flash and flair when he first approached them, his words were ultimately left unsaid. 

Brimming with energy, Adam followed the photographer’s directions to a post-production studio. he might as well have announced. With money on his side, even though it was already well past 2 AM, Adam managed to edit two versions of a thrilling, roughly ten-minute video—complete with a catchy background track. He worked until after 9 AM before finally finishing. Satisfied, he mailed one copy of the edited version and one uncut copy to Juno, then stored the original and numerous duplicates safely back at his apartment. Finally, he took the edited copy and drove off to New Jersey for his weekly “Creative Inspiration” session. 

At 2 PM, at Peggy’s apartment, Adam and Peggy were enjoying a delicious meal prepared by their assistant Lisa, recharging their batteries. 

“Let me show you something,” Adam said as he played the edited video. 

“Huh…” Peggy remarked after watching, her refined features reflecting a trace of surprise as she scrutinized him. 

“Did you really memorize tens of thousands of surgical cases?” she asked. 

“Of course,” he replied. 

Adam was clearly pleased with the effect. “I’m a genius now—you’ll see,” he added with a confident grin. 

“Do you know how to play chess?” Peggy teased with a playful smile. 

“Uh…” Adam hesitated for a moment, then managed a slight smile. “I do.” 

“Great, let’s play a game.” 

Peggy got up to fetch the chess set, but then furrowed her brows and, raising her delicate chin, said, “You go get it.” 

Adam chuckled and went to retrieve the set. 

“Now, recite those tens of thousands of surgical cases to me,” she challenged. 

Peggy set up the board and naturally took the black pieces. (In chess, white moves first—but true experts often prefer black.)  

“Let’s decide who goes first by guessing,” she suggested. 

Adam’s expression darkened. Who did she think she was talking down to? Even if we lose, we never lose our fighting spirit! 

“Fine,” he agreed. 

Smiling, Peggy picked up one black and one white piece, held them behind her back, shuffled them around, and then brought her hands forward for Adam to guess. Adam smirked and pointed to the left. Peggy opened her fist to reveal a black piece. 

“You go first,” she said. 

Adam boomed, “Are you sure you want to hear about those tens of thousands of surgical cases?” 

“Why not?” Peggy replied as she took the white pieces. She moved the pawn in front of her queen two spaces forward and said, “If you can truly recall those surgical cases while playing chess, it won’t slow us down one bit, right?” 

“You really do have faith in me,” Adam said, glancing at Peggy. He’d once studied chess—having watched Peggy and Sheldon play—in an effort to win her friendship. 

Peggy’s opening was clearly the Queen’s Gambit—a counterattacking defensive setup, sometimes even called the Sicilian Defense or the Queen’s Opening. Sacrifice is sometimes necessary to gain, reminiscent of those desperate, last-ditch moves in Go where you turn the tables when all seems lost. It’s a tactic reserved for dealing with true experts. 

Chapter 431: Adam’s About to Be a Dad 

New Jersey. Peggy’s Apartment.  

Adam was playing chess with Peggy while simultaneously reciting tens of thousands of heart surgery data points.  

Both of them were super geniuses—multitasking was just par for the course.  

Adam was taking his sweet time with the chess moves. If he didn’t, Peggy’s skill would’ve checkmated him ages ago. Back in the day, he only had a basic grasp of the game. Even now, with his brain upgraded to a super CPU, he still had to spend a ton of time analyzing every possible outcome of Peggy’s moves.  

In his mind, a chessboard unfolded—black and white pieces sliding forward and back, each potential clash playing out like a rehearsal in his head.  

It looked pretty badass.  

But Peggy? Her brain was a super CPU too—an Adam-plus edition. When it came to mathematical calculations, she left him in the dust. Add her mastery of chess strategies and her ability to stand on the shoulders of giants, and she was basically chilling outside the stratosphere, looking down at Earth.  

Adam trying to pull off some last-minute genius move? Yeah, that was a pipe dream. Right now, he was just losing with style.  

And honestly, it was working out great.  

Peggy wasn’t rushing him at all. In fact, her delicate face was lit up with a smile. Every now and then, Adam would glance up, catch her gaze, and feel like he could hear her thoughts: “I used to think you were just a decent tool—my inspiration generator. But turns out, you’ve got some real talent. Maybe my friend count will go from one-and-a-half to two. Keep it up!”  

That just made his mental CPU kick into overdrive.  

One chess game dragged on for five hours.  

“Checkmate!” Peggy said with a grin, setting down her piece.  

“I’m done for,” Adam admitted, tipping over his king with a smirk.  

“You’ve only recited 10,369 data points so far. Wanna go another round?” Peggy asked, resetting the board with a playful smile.  

“You sure you want me to keep going?” Adam raised an eyebrow. “It’s already 7 p.m. If I run through all of them, we’ll be up till 3 a.m. Isn’t 10,369 enough to prove something?”  

“Spitting out 10,369 data points does prove your talent,” Peggy said, eyeing him with curiosity. “I don’t know why you never showed this side of yourself before, but talent’s talent. If that’s all it was, we could stop here. But from those 10,369 points, I spotted that pattern you mentioned in your video. So now I’m wondering—if you finish the whole set, will that pattern hold? Can we turn it into a full-on mathematical formula?”  

“A mathematical formula?” Adam blinked, stunned. “Is that even possible?”  

“Why not?” Peggy grinned. “Math’s the tool we use to decode the universe’s secrets—human bodies included. You said in your video that you used this data to figure out surgery stats for a middle-aged guy stepping into a little girl’s procedure. How’d you pull that off?”  

“I took stuff like gender, age, heart condition, all that, and turned them into axes,” Adam explained. “Each surgery data point became a dot. Connect the dots, and you get a rough curve. Then I kinda fudged it to fit.”  

“So you’ve got a sloppy curve in your head,” Peggy said with a laugh. “But what I’m seeing is a formula. What’s wrong with that?”  

“…” Adam’s mouth twitched.  

She wasn’t wrong—mathematicians did boil down complex patterns into neat little formulas and theorems to help people understand the world. But this? This felt insane. With so many variables in surgery data, could it really be summed up in one formula? Then again, math could model the entire freaking universe—heart surgery data was peanuts in comparison.  

His eyes lit up. “You really think we can turn this Duncan Curve into a formula?”  

“…” Now it was Peggy’s turn to go speechless.  

Duncan Curve? Where’d that come from?  

“Peggy, you’re amazing!” Adam jumped up, wrapping her in a bear hug and planting a big kiss on her cheek. “If we pull this off, we’re calling it the Duncan-Adler Formula. Like Sheldon said, ‘Brain babies are the cutest!’ This is our brain baby—no crying, no messy goo, just pure, beautiful perfection.”  

“Did Sheldon actually say that?” Peggy asked, wiping the slobber off her face.  

“Think about it—does it sound like something he’d say?” Adam chuckled.  

“He does hate kids,” Peggy nodded. “And pretty much everyone else too. But he’s obsessed with brainpower, so yeah, it tracks.”  

“See? Close enough,” Adam said, waving it off. “Let’s not sweat the small stuff. We’ve got the Duncan-Adler Formula to figure out!”  

Peggy rolled her eyes, but he ignored it completely.  

For her, a formula like this was no big deal. Over the years, she’d pumped out tons of cutting-edge math papers—how else could she be the youngest mathematician of her caliber? These days, she tackled the toughest, most mind-bending problems in the field. This? This was just a side gig.  

But for Adam, it was a game-changer.  

If they nailed this formula and published it as the Duncan-Adler Formula, it’d blow yesterday’s public lecture out of the water. Sure, his performance then had been wild, but deep down, plenty of people probably whispered about some hidden trick—something they couldn’t quite put their finger on.  

And there’d be a lot of those skeptics. Humans hated the unknown. Psychologically, they weren’t ready to buy into an Adam this over-the-top.  

But a paper like this? Paired with his lecture? That’d be the nail in the coffin—undeniable proof of his genius.  

A performance could be faked. You could script a whole speech, plant questions, rehearse answers, and stage every shocked gasp or smug smirk from the crowd. Adam was a billionaire—he had the cash to pull off a stunt that big. And with his ambition to make waves in medicine, he had the motive too. Means, motive, ability—all there. So yeah, people doubting him felt reasonable to them. Some might even convince themselves it had to be the truth.  

Even if they’d asked questions themselves, they could brush it off. Maybe Adam got lucky, and their “gotcha” questions just happened to be ones he knew. Or maybe he had an earpiece with some medical bigshot feeding him lines.  

Fake. All fake.  

But math? Math didn’t lie.  

And when it tied directly to his work, that formula would be as real as it gets.  

With that, Adam shoved the chessboard aside and threw all his energy into reciting the surgery data.  

Both of them were geniuses—photographic memories, mental calculators on steroids. One spoke, the other recorded. Adam turned the data into a multidimensional web, countless rays intersecting at points, each point a surgery, each line a connection.  

Peggy dug into the mathematical ties between those points, working to weave them into a single formula.  

Their minds were like starry skies—data twinkling like constellations, glowing with brilliance.  

(End of Chapter)