348-350

Chapter 348: If It Doesn’t Kill You, It Makes You Stronger  

"Alright, Dr. Clive, I'll take it from here."  

Adam stepped forward, smiling.  

"What did you say?"  

Alex froze for a moment before erupting in anger. "This is my patient!"  

"No."  

Adam shook his head. "Your patient is still waiting for a rectal exam. This patient has a gunshot wound—on his shoulder, not his rectum. So, he’s not your patient."  

"Hey! I like Dr. Clive. I want him as my doctor."  

The African American man clearly felt a connection with Alex’s rebellious nature. Seeing Adam push Alex aside, he immediately stood up for his friend.  

"Sorry," Adam shook his head. "This is the emergency department. I’ll contact Dr. Lewis right away."  

"I'm not an emergency case!"  

The man, full of loyalty, stood up while clutching his wound. "I have an appointment with Dr. Burke, and I want Alex to be my attending physician."  

It was clear that he was a regular at the hospital. Not only had he scheduled an appointment with a specific attending physician, but he also understood the concept of an attending doctor.  

"I’ll contact Dr. Burke for you," Adam said with a smile. "But trust me, even if Dr. Burke comes, Dr. Clive still won’t be your attending."  

"Why not?"  

The man was stunned and looked at Alex, whose face had now turned as dark as his own.  

Alex was speechless.  

What could he say? 

That due to his negligence, one of Dr. Burke’s patients nearly died, leading to Burke banning him from the operating room for two weeks? That Dr. Bailey had further punished him by assigning him two weeks of rectal exams? 

How could he possibly admit something so humiliating to his "bro"?  

"No matter what, I have the right to choose my attending physician."  

The man grew more determined. "Alex, don’t worry. I know Dr. Burke well—I’ll make sure he assigns you as my attending."  

Saying that, he extended his hand and made a shaking motion.  

Alex reached out and did the same.  

It looked very much like the fist-bump gesture popular among African Americans.  

Alex’s face brightened considerably, and he shot Adam a smug look, as if saying, "Just because you're skilled doesn’t mean you can steal my patient."  

Adam signaled for the nurse to call Dr. Burke.  

"I was hoping to see you under different circumstances, Mr. Owens."  

Dr. Burke extended a hand to shake the African American man's.  

"Just call me Digby," the man grinned.  

"What happened?" Dr. Burke asked Adam.  

Adam quickly explained the situation.  

"Digby, Dr. Duncan is the best intern we have here."  

Dr. Burke cast a cold glance at Alex before turning to Digby with a warm tone. "He will be your attending and oversee your treatment."  

"No!"  

Digby shook his head. "I only want Dr. Clive."  

"Digby, Dr. Clive violated hospital regulations. He won’t be able to serve as an attending physician for the time being," Dr. Burke explained. "I’m your doctor, and we’ve known each other for a long time. Don’t you trust my judgment?"  

"Come on!"  

Digby dramatically exclaimed. "Who doesn’t make mistakes when they’re young? It’s no big deal. Besides, I know my injury—it’s just a simple wound closure. I might not even need to be admitted. Letting Alex handle it won’t hurt anyone. I trust you, and I trust him."  

Dr. Burke sighed and shook his head. In the end, he respected the patient's choice.  

"Fine. Dr. Clive, suture the wound, then schedule a CT scan. You’re responsible."  

When he said this, Dr. Burke’s gaze toward Alex was filled with disdain.  

Alex, being a seasoned smooth-talker, ignored Dr. Burke completely and pushed Digby’s wheelchair toward the patient ward. As he passed Adam, he shot him another provocative glance.  

Clap! Clap!  

The sound of Alex and Digby high-fiving reached Adam’s ears as they walked away.  

"Dr. Duncan, you handled that well," Dr. Burke praised Adam.  

Adam simply smiled.  

"Oh, by the way,"  

Dr. Burke glanced in the direction Alex had gone, his expression full of contempt.  

"Inform Dr. Bailey that Dr. Clive’s rectal exam duty has been extended by another week."  

"Got it."  

Adam nodded.  

Alex thought he could circumvent the punishment and fool everyone.  

But was there a single doctor here who was actually stupid? 

Especially a top physician like Dr. Burke?  

Defying a senior doctor’s order while acting like everyone else was a fool? Now that’s real stupidity.  

Lunch Hour – Hospital Cafeteria 

"Did I hear you tried to steal Alex’s patient but failed?"  

Cristina plopped down with her tray, wasting no time in getting straight to the gossip.  

"No choice," Adam shrugged. "Ran into a patient who’s not afraid of dying."  

"Tsk tsk, Alex really has a way with people."  

Cristina clicked her tongue in amusement. "Yesterday, he nearly conned that woman with the giant tumor, and today he managed to trick a fearless, tattooed masochist right in front of you."  

Saying he was fearless might be an exaggeration—more accurately, he was a thrill-seeker.  

His shoulder wound? He had his friend aim and shoot him on purpose.  

All for the sake of adding a new gunshot scar—an extreme version of tattooing.  

And this wasn’t even his first time.  

Last time, the bullet grazed his armpit.  

"This guy is from the Iowa wrestling team," George chimed in. "Apparently, Alex wrestles too. During his exam this morning, I heard them passionately discussing wrestling philosophy.  

Stuff like: 

'What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.' 

'Unless you kill me, you can’t defeat me.' 

'Pain is a dividing line—it’s all about how we handle it.'  

Alex even borrowed a camera to take close-up shots of the gunshot wound. The two of them bonded like brothers."  

"He’s faking it."  

Liz sneered. "Just like how he deceived that poor woman with the massive tumor. I’d love for this patient to hear his real thoughts."  

"Let’s just hope Alex doesn’t get too carried away," Adam smirked.  

"You know something?"  

Cristina’s eyes narrowed.  

"His first gunshot wound? He kept the bullet inside as a keepsake. This time, the wound caused a rib fracture and a hemothorax."  

Adam explained, "Dr. Burke inserted a chest tube to drain the blood and repaired his lung. But a gunshot wound can trigger the body’s emergency response. Now imagine—what happens if he has any open wounds elsewhere on his body?"  

"Infection!"  

Cristina and the others said in unison.  

"And what are the chances that a tattooed masochist who worships pain doesn’t have other wounds?"  

Adam said nonchalantly. "If I were his attending, I’d make sure to check thoroughly. But this is basic medical knowledge—Alex should know too…"  

Liz suddenly stood up and ran off, leaving just one sentence behind:  

"I don’t trust Alex!"  

Adam continued eating his meal at a leisurely pace.  

Just like Digby had said, this was his choice. His belief.  

"What doesn’t kill me makes me stronger."  

All Adam could do was respect it—and wish him luck.  

After all, he wasn’t about to lose sleep over 0.01% of someone else’s life expectancy.  

Chapter 349: The Title of "Grim Reaper"  

Medical Center.  

"Got another big surgery waiting for you?"  

Alex sneered as he saw Liz rushing toward him.  

Even though Liz had bailed him out yesterday, he didn't appreciate it.  

Because no matter how things played out, the result was the same—he got humiliated in front of everyone and was hit with severe punishment.  

For an intern, every second counts in gaining surgical experience to improve their skills. After all, in a year, they need to pass their exams to officially start their residency training.  

But now, he was banned from the OR for two weeks—only allowed to do rectal exams.  

And now, that ban had been extended to three weeks.  

His progress had been set back way too much.  

And Liz?  

Not only had she performed open-heart surgery, but Dr. Burke even praised her.  

More importantly, Liz and the others were getting close to Adam.  

The friend of your enemy is also your enemy.  

"Did your gunshot patient have any other wounds? Did you ask him?"  

Liz asked urgently.  

"Hey! That’s my patient!"  

Alex snapped, irritated. "I’m a doctor just like you! I know what I’m doing!"  

"So you checked?"  

Liz’s temper flared as well. "Are you sure? Just like you were so sure yesterday that I didn’t page you?! If not, then go check right now! If he has an infected wound, the stress response from the gunshot could worsen it. You might end up killing your patient—again!"  

Alex froze.  

He hadn’t asked.  

He had been too busy chatting with the guy, trying to build rapport. Who had time to ask about that?  

Besides, the guy was Black and believed in pain control—if he wasn’t feeling pain, he’d make some just to regain control over it.  

Even if Alex had asked, the guy might not have answered.  

If he could’ve handled the gunshot himself, he wouldn’t have come to the hospital in the first place.  

Then Alex’s face changed as he glanced down at the lab report in his hands.  

Liz snatched it from him, scanned it quickly, and her expression darkened.  

"White blood cell count is extremely high—27,000. Sixteen percent are band neutrophils. That’s way beyond a typical stress response."  

Beep beep!  

Alex’s pager went off.  

One look at the screen and his face turned black. He had no time to argue with Liz anymore—he turned and sprinted toward the patient’s room.  

Liz didn’t need any more confirmation. Adam had been right—there really was a severe infection.  

"Page Dr. Burke! Page Dr. Duncan!"  

She shouted to a nurse before running after Alex.  

Inside the patient’s room.  

"What’s going on?"  

Alex pushed open the door, frowning.  

"I’m freezing, Doc. I can’t stop shaking."  

The Black man was curled up on his side, shivering violently.  

No more friendly "bro" or calling Alex by name. Just "doctor."  

A clear distinction—he was the patient, and Alex was the doctor responsible for saving his life.  

"Doctor, his temperature is rising, and his blood pressure is dropping," the nurse reported.  

"Mr. Owens, do you have any other tattoos? Any new ones?"  

Liz asked immediately.  

"Yeah, on my leg. Just got one recently," Owens replied, his voice trembling.  

Liz pulled up his pant leg—and her face changed dramatically.  

There, on his calf, was a massive spider tattoo.  

But it wasn’t just a spider anymore.  

It was a rotting spider—decayed and necrotic.  

"Oh my God!"  

Owens forced himself to look, then let out a horrified yell. "It didn’t look this bad this morning!"  

"It’s severely infected," Alex muttered, then glared at the patient. "Why the hell didn’t you say something sooner?"  

"It wasn’t bad at the time," Owens mumbled, unable to look anymore. He lay back down, trembling.  

"What’s the situation?"  

Adam entered the room.  

"What the hell are you doing here?"  

Alex’s expression darkened.  

"I paged him," Liz cut in quickly. "Adam predicted this would happen. If he had been Owens’ attending physician, this wouldn’t have gotten this bad."  

"I can handle my own patient!"  

Alex shouted.  

"Adam, what do we do?"  

Liz ignored Alex and turned to Adam as she stepped up to the patient. "Mr. Owens, your infection is serious. Before Dr. Burke gets here, I strongly recommend you let Dr. Duncan take over your case."  

"He’s just an intern like me!"  

Alex scoffed.  

"I agree—let Dr. Duncan be my attending physician."  

Owens didn’t hesitate.  

Alex was stunned.  

If he had known things were this bad from the start, he would’ve listened to Dr. Burke’s advice and let Adam handle his case.  

All that talk about "Whatever doesn’t kill me makes me stronger" and "Only death can make me admit defeat"?  

That was just tough talk before facing death.  

Now, he could barely breathe, let alone act tough.  

Nothing makes you fear death more than standing on its edge.  

Loyalty and camaraderie? That was nonsense.  

The only thing that mattered now was who could save him.  

And Alex clearly wasn’t that person.  

"Page Dr. Burke!"  

"Already did!"  

"Page him again!"  

"Start antibiotics!"  

"The patient is showing signs of multi-organ failure. The secondary infection has led to sepsis. Move him to the ICU now! Get respiratory support ready—prepare epinephrine!"  

The moment Owens abandoned Alex for him, Adam stepped in and took charge without hesitation.  

He wasn’t happy about Owens’ earlier attitude, but saving lives—and gaining lifespan points—was Adam’s core principle.  

To him, Owens was just another patient—an opportunity to gain experience in emergency care and rack up some extra lifespan points.  

Even the smallest gains still counted.  

Business was business.  

Besides, given Owens’ condition, even if he survived, he’d probably be crippled.  

If he wasn’t confined to a hospital bed for the rest of his life, that would already be a win—forget about wrestling or talking big again.  

In America, losing your job and income meant that even if you survived, life could still be hell.  

There was always talk of "Angels of Death" in medical dramas—nurses or doctors who, either out of extreme compassion or mental instability, secretly ended the suffering of patients who were in unbearable pain.  

Of course, in many cases, those patients asked for it themselves—too weak to do it on their own.  

One dose of morphine, and it was over.  

But that was a serious crime. Few were willing to take such a risk, even out of compassion.  

And then there were those with mental disorders—if they decided you wanted to die, you wouldn’t have a say in it.  

That wasn’t a mercy killing. That was a murder spree.  

Even truly compassionate "Angels of Death" could eventually break under the pressure, their minds warping over time.  

That’s why the law forbids doctors from performing euthanasia—because you never know if there’s a personal agenda involved.  

"Angels of Death" were rare.  

If Owens survived but was stuck in a hospital bed, suffering and watching his life crumble, he’d probably start wishing for one.  

Alex had a connection with death—but if anyone thought he’d risk his career to be Owens’ "angel," they were dreaming.  

A Grim Reaper title suited him much better.  

Chapter 350: A Cold Farewell  

Medical Center  

“What’s the situation?”  

Dr. Burke jogged over quickly, asking with urgency.  

“…The patient is now basically stabilized,” Adam reported.  

“Well done.”  

Dr. Burke gave Adam a peculiar look.  

He had already held this intern in high regard, yet Adam kept surpassing even those expectations.  

Even if he had arrived first, he wasn’t sure he could have handled things better than Adam.  

Was this really just an intern?  

Adam’s reputation had preceded him. A few years back, when he was a medical intern at the center, Dr. Burke had heard whispers about him.  

But he had always assumed Adam’s success was due to his connection with Leonard, artificially inflated by others.  

Look at Alex, another intern who got in through connections—it was clear what the usual standard of such "connected" interns was.  

Yet Adam, also supposedly a beneficiary of nepotism, had somehow raised the bar so high that Alex was left in the dust.  

What was once an acceptable level of competence was now glaringly inadequate. The contrast exposed Alex’s true abilities, making it impossible for senior doctors to ignore his shortcomings any longer.  

Repeatedly defying superior orders, lacking medical ethics, offending patients, and demonstrating subpar professional skills—  

Someone like him would have been fired long ago if not for his connection to the hospital director.  

But even so, Dr. Burke was done tolerating it.  

Yes, the director had influence.  

But Dr. Burke was a renowned cardiothoracic surgeon, with his own dignity and reputation to uphold.  

Did being the director’s protégé mean Alex could keep disregarding his authority?  

Even if Alex had been right, it would still be unacceptable. But the problem was, Alex was wrong over and over again.  

This couldn’t be ignored any longer.  

A superior’s authority had to be maintained.  

“You’ll be responsible for Mr. Owens’ follow-up care,” Dr. Burke instructed after checking the patient.  

“Understood.”  

Adam nodded.  

Standing off to the side, Alex looked utterly miserable.  

As long as Dr. Burke didn’t officially remove him from the case, even if the African American patient verbally requested Adam as his doctor, Alex didn’t dare walk away.  

Passive resistance was one thing; openly defying a superior was another matter entirely.  

If he really dared to do that, he had no doubt Dr. Burke would immediately push for his termination.  

And at that point, even the director wouldn’t be able to protect him.  

Rules were rules.  

“What are you still doing here? Done with your rectal exams?” Dr. Burke asked coldly.  

Alex turned and left without another word.  

He knew he had completely offended Dr. Burke.  

There was no point arguing.  

Sometimes, you had to admit defeat.  

Dr. Burke gave a few more instructions before leaving—after all, as an attending physician, he had a busy schedule.  

“Adam, you’re amazing,” Liz said admiringly.  

“You’re the amazing one,” Adam replied modestly. Since it was their competition break time, he smiled and added, “You just marched right over and took Alex’s patient.”  

“His patient?” Liz scoffed. “Honestly, he should just stick to rectal exams. At least then he wouldn’t be endangering lives.”  

“Adam, you really pulled it off,” Cristina and Meredith approached, impressed. “You actually managed to take the patient back.”  

“Adam, if I ever make a misdiagnosis, promise me you’ll secretly correct me,” Meredith joked. “It’s clear you consider more factors than we do.”  

“I remember Adam has a degree in psychology,” Cristina mused. “Maybe I should get a psychology degree too. Otherwise, even if I encounter the same situation, I wouldn’t be able to handle it like Adam did.”  

“Huh?” Meredith and Liz looked at her.  

“Patients lie all the time,” Cristina explained. “Take that tattooed masochist, for example. A small tattoo infection—he wouldn’t have mentioned it even if you asked because, to him, it’s insignificant. Bringing it up would just make him feel embarrassed.  

But Adam didn’t even ask—he immediately identified the possibility. How? Because he could read the patient’s psychological behaviors and quickly deduce the real condition.  

That’s what makes him so impressive.”  

“Almost every patient lies,” Adam said with a smile.  

“Because that’s human nature—to highlight strengths and downplay weaknesses. Unless absolutely necessary, most patients won’t reveal everything to their doctors.  

When patients answer our questions, their responses are already filtered—just like writing a diary.  

Of course, in most cases, their descriptions still provide useful information, and we can make reasonable diagnoses based on that.  

But the real problem arises when a patient hides critical symptoms or causes of illness, which could lead to serious misdiagnoses.  

That’s when understanding psychology becomes invaluable—it helps us determine when a patient might be lying during medical consultations.”  

“That’s a skill only the truly exceptional can master,” Meredith sighed. “We’re already drowning in work as interns—who has time to study psychology on top of that?”  

“Exactly,” Liz, who had graduated from a regular medical school, strongly agreed.  

“You’re exhausted?” Cristina shot a side glance at Meredith. “What kind of exhausted? I remember we were classmates at Harvard Medical School.”  

“…”  

Meredith was speechless.  

She wasn’t lacking in intelligence. If she had been willing to put in the effort, getting a psychology degree wouldn’t have been impossible.  

But during school, she had been more focused on enjoying life.  

Now, as an intern, she was entangled in an emotional mess with a certain “dreamy” attending physician.  

Not to mention the nights of headboard banging that left George with a face as dark as charcoal and Liz complaining that she should oil the bed springs.  

On top of that, being an intern was already exhausting—how could she not be tired?  

As they chatted, George walked over.  

“Looks like Alex is in serious trouble!”  

“Oh? What happened?” Liz’s eyes lit up.  

“I just passed by the director’s office. Dr. Burke was there, arguing with him. I overheard something about Alex… and the phrase ‘encouraged to resign.’”  

“It’s finally happening,” Cristina smirked. “Remember what the director told us during orientation?”  

“We started with 20 surgical interns. Eight will transfer to easier departments, five will crack under pressure, and two will be forced to resign,” Adam recalled with a smile.  

“Looks like Alex might be the first one from our group to be dismissed,” Cristina said, grinning.  

“Who knows?”  

Adam shrugged.  

Getting rid of someone with connections wasn’t so easy.  

After a few more exchanges, the group dispersed.  

“You need something?” Adam turned to George with a smile.  

“Yeah.”  

George glanced around cautiously. Seeing no one paying attention, he pulled Adam into a hospital room, shut the door, and closed the blinds…  

(End of Chapter)