As long as it works
Henry, the Tinkerer, saving lives—to put it nicely, he was unconventional; to put it bluntly, he was disregarding human life. Anyone who saw it would be trembling with anger.
Removing the bullet from the abdomen is no challenge for Kryptonian with X-ray Vision.
Most people would either enlarge the wound to get a wider view of the bullet, or frantically rummage through the enemy's body.
Try your luck finding bullets.
Regardless of the type, it's a secondary injury for the victim. Many people have died from this excruciating pain.
But Henry always managed to grab the bullet accurately; the tweezers went in, and the Negasonic Teenage Warhead came out. His movements were so swift and precise that anyone who saw it would admire him.
Internal bleeding is more difficult to manage. If the bleeding is not severe, simply suture the wound and let the body heal naturally.
However, if the bleeding is severe, like Derek's companion, the bleeding must be stopped before the wound can be stitched up. Otherwise, if the internal bleeding continues, the person may die.
The Tinkerer's method of stopping the bleeding was so outrageous that it would be unbearable for anyone to witness. He simply pulled a soldering iron from his briefcase, plugged it in, and heated it until it was red-hot.
At first, Derek didn't know the purpose of taking the welding torch, until the Tinkerer removed the bullet and then stuck the torch into the wound to cauterize and stop the bleeding! The Mexico guy almost pulled out the gun and shot the Tinkerer in the head!
That must have been a terrible feeling, because even his unconscious comrade, who had been shot, woke up in pain, yelling and jumping up!
Fortunately, the Tinkerer acted quickly, pressing down on the injured man's chest with his palm to immobilize him. This prevented the man from moving and also prevented the welding torch stuck in his abdomen from causing further damage.
Just as his companion passed out again, the Tinkerer pulled out the welding torch. Besides being covered in blood, some of it was charred and stuck to the soldering iron.
Then they stitched it up and applied gauze to protect the wound.
To be honest, the speed and technique used to treat the wound were the best and fastest that Derek had ever seen.
But the part about stopping the bleeding with the welding torch really terrified him. Derek's head was spinning, and he didn't know how to react until the end.
After the Tinkerer walked to the sink, threw away his disposable rubber gloves, and washed his hands, Derek regained consciousness. He angrily pulled out his gun, pointed it at the man, and yelled, "What did you just do?"
"Save them! What else can we do?" the Tinkerer said without turning his head.
"Is that medical equipment?" Derek questioned, pointing to the welding torch that had been thrown on the table and had its plug removed.
The Tinkerer said confidently, "As long as it saves lives, who cares what it was originally for?" After washing his hands, he grabbed a random cloth—who knew if it was even clean—and used it to wipe his wet hands.
The Tinkerer remained completely unfazed by the gun pointed at him. He simply said, "This thing is useless, put it away."
"Shut up, shut up!" Derek repeatedly pointed his gun at the Tinkerer. With the weapon in hand, his wickedness grew.
He said, "Hand over all the money you have on you."
The Tinkerer frowned and said, "This isn't the right thing to do. My fees are much cheaper than a regular hospital's outpatient fees. I didn't rip you off, and I saved the person. Are you trying to rob me?"
"What reason do you need for robbery? The weapon is in my hand, the gun is pointed at your head, that's the reason," Derek said arrogantly and smugly.
The Tinkerer, resigned to his fate, took the five coins from his pocket and placed them on the table. Holding them up, he took a few steps back.
He said, "This is all the money I have on me. Here you go."
Derek stared in disbelief at the banknotes he had just pulled out. He went straight to the table, grabbed the bottom of the Tinkerer's briefcase, and emptied its contents.
There was a clanging sound as the contents of the handbag fell all over the table—strange tools, gauze, OK bandages, and other items, none of which were of any value.
Derek, undeterred, approached the Tinkerer, gun in hand, intending to search his pockets. He muttered, "Don't move. If you don't move, I won't hurt you."
The Tinkerer didn't move, he just mumbled something to himself.
Derek couldn't hear clearly, and because he needed to get closer to search the other person, he couldn't help but lean in and ask, "Walter, what did you say?"
In the blink of an eye, the Tinkerer grabbed Derek's gun-holding hand and pulled it inward and downward. He also cupped his other hand into a tube shape and placed it in front of the muzzle, like a silencer.
By the time Derek realized he was about to pull the trigger, the gun was already pointed at his abdomen, and he fired a shot.
The Tinkerer's handpiece neither stopped the bullet nor functioned as a silencer; it merely reduced the bullet's speed and diminished its power.
The bullet successfully entered Derek's body and stopped inside. It didn't penetrate his body due to the excessive power of close-range shooting, nor did it wander aimlessly inside his body.
Anyone who had previously examined the injuries of Derek's companion would know that the two wounds were identical, with the bullets lodged in the same places in their bodies.
Holding that gun wasn't the end of it. The Tinkerer swiftly grabbed Derek's carotid artery. The brief lack of oxygen to his brain caused the guy, who had tried to steal a chicken but ended up losing his own, to roll his eyes back and pass out.
The Tinkerer, who had no intention of actually strangling the young Latino, let go of him and put him on the ground when he saw the young man's eyes roll back.
The Tinkerer, waving his hand dismissively, said with dissatisfaction, "Is that all you've got? You think you can cause me trouble?" He then dialed 911 to contact an ambulance. In addition to explaining the circumstances of the shooting and the emergency, he also made sure to mention the location of the wounded.
The Tinkerer, of course, wouldn't have an ambulance come to his door to pick him up; instead, he chose a nearby location without security cameras.
Before the 911 operators could confirm, the Tinkerer hung up. Simultaneously, using his Super Speed, he dropped the Latino man off at the location he'd specified, then returned to his Black Clinic.
The person in the hospital bed was still unconscious. But having had his wounds treated, his expression didn't show the same level of pain as before.
The Tinkerer left a note telling the person to leave once they woke up, and not to forget to close and lock the door. Then he tidied up the mess inside, washing and cleaning as needed.
Despite the room's appearance, which looked quite dirty and messy, the hygiene standards were actually not bad. It was just that he was allowed to take back items that would be discarded in a regular hospital, clean and disinfect them, and reuse them.
All of this, thanks to the Tinkerer's Super Speed, didn't take much time in the real world; it was just a blink of an eye.
Just as he finished his work, he heard the ambulance siren. He stopped right where he had thrown the man and took the guy who had shot him away. The Tinkerer exclaimed, "Oh, I'm such a good person!"
"The ambulance fee, plus the emergency room fee, should be covered in a few thousand. If he has any other criminal record, even the police will intervene to check on his life."
"Anyway, I've been given a second chance at life; I won't die on the street like a stray dog. From this perspective, maybe I even have the makings of a superhero."