Nick remained highly vigilant as he slowly approached the door. Schiller was telling Felix a joke about the Berlin suburbs, and Felix laughed happily, an unnatural flush appearing on his pale face.
Nick rested his hand on the gun at his waist while Schiller leaned forward to examine Felix's eyes and listened to his heartbeat with a stethoscope.
Nick still refused to relax until Jones gave him a shove and whispered in his ear, "You can't treat him like a criminal while demanding that he act as a Doctor. Relax."
Nick sighed, walked in, and said, "Since you've come here, I won't waste words. Felix's father was an officer. He helped us when we first arrived here, but he died, so we made his family's old house our base and took care of Felix at the same time."
"This child has congenital heart disease, but he didn't have surgery when he was young, so he's always been frail. The Doctor said he doesn't have many years left. We need a surgeon to operate on him now. Will that be you?"
Schiller listened intently to the sounds through the stethoscope, his expression gradually turning grave. He turned to Nick and said, "He has completely missed the best window for congenital heart disease surgery. If we operate now, not only will the results be less ideal, but the risks may be even greater."
Nick did not waste words with him. He sat beside the bed, looked at Felix, and said, "Do you want the surgery, Felix? It might make the rest of your life healthier, but it could also kill you or leave things as they are. It's a gamble on whether you can make it past twenty-five."
"Of course I want the surgery," Felix said. "If I die, I won't blame