Making the incision

"What happened? What did you do to me?" The Old Bai, fat man's voice betrayed his panic for the first time.

The Tinkerer explained, "A simple spinal anesthesia isn't enough to sustain the surgery. But you need to remain conscious and have a shorter recovery time. Acupuncture, a traditional Eastern medical practice, can compensate for some of these shortcomings."

A common problem among Westerners is that they attribute everything to the mysterious East, and then they believe it without even realizing it.

In fact, most publicly available TCM medical books do not mention any methods for numbing or blocking nerve sensations regarding the practice of "Golden Needle Severing Meridians." They only mention some methods for relaxing muscles and promoting blood circulation.

It wouldn't be entirely accurate to say he couldn't do such a thing, because the Tinkerer had figured out some tricks of the trade on his own. Perhaps in the tradition of traditional Chinese medicine, this is a secret knowledge passed down orally and through personal example, not recorded in writing. At least he couldn't find any usable materials.

But ultimately, it was just the Tinkerer figuring things out on his own, without any systematic research or extensive human trials. So he could only accumulate experience in treating the wounded and gradually adjust his acupuncture techniques.

Even today, without that Spinal Cord injection, the Tinkerer could keep this Old Bai man lying still on the operating table, fully conscious. He could not only look, but also curse.

Just to be on the safe side, I'll give him an extra injection of Western-style anesthesia, in case my own method doesn't work out and this fat guy jumps up on me.

This was by no means the Tinkerer deliberately making things difficult for himself; it was part of his plan.

Once the Old Bai, fat man was completely under his control, the Tinkerer disinfected the wound and deftly made a large, V-shaped incision in the affected area, peeling back the skin to expose what should have been the internal organs.

The white subcutaneous fat filled the surgical field, protecting the internal organs very well, and the bright red organs were completely invisible.

To be honest, this was the first time the Tinkerer had ever seen anything like it.

The people who used to get themselves operated on were mostly the kind of poor people who were so thin they could be dragged away by a dog. They couldn't even dream of becoming obese, so they couldn't possibly have that much fat.

The Tinkerer picked up a large syringe and began to extract liposuction. Once the syringe was full, he carefully set it aside and switched to a second syringe. This fat would be injected back later, so it couldn't be disposed of carelessly.

On the one hand, I wasn't asked to have liposuction. On the other hand, if the fat doesn't return to its original position after the surgery, it can affect organs that have become accustomed to a certain level of pressure. It can also cause fascia laxity and wrinkles due to skin laxity.

Secondly, liposuction isn't just about randomly removing fat. Besides removing fat evenly, a certain amount of fat must also be preserved.

Used to protect against friction between organs.

Therefore, the Tinkerer only temporarily removes fat within the surgical field of view until the liver and gallbladder are exposed.

The nurse in charge of the equipment handed over the scalpel at the opportune moment. Based on her experience, the next step was to address organ adhesions and remove the parts that needed to be removed. The scalpel was the most basic tool; the others depended on the doctor's preference.

The Tinkerer took the scalpel and quickly removed the adhered organs, exposing the liver and gallbladder. He then used hemostatic forceps to clamp the blood vessel he was about to cut.

Scalpels, clamps, and other useful tools were simply placed inside Old Bai's body. They seemed randomly placed, yet also appeared to be inserted somewhere, just a bunch of things arranged inexplicably.

Then the Tinkerer did something that baffled everyone. He took off his rubber gloves, threw them into the waste collection bin, and then walked out.

Compared to the other doctors and nurses assisting him, who seemed completely bewildered, the Old Bai, chubby man, who had only undergone partial anesthesia and whose head and neck were perfectly normal and who could even see his surgical site, excitedly asked, "What are you going to do?"

The Tinkerer didn't bother to answer. Instead, he stepped out of the inflatable operating room, picked up his extinguished cigar, and lit it again.

Then, with that still in his mouth, he walked into the operating room, which was supposed to be kept sterile.

Not far away, the Old Bai, chubby man's men seemed to have also noticed the unusual situation in the operating room. They stopped loitering and gathered around, though they didn't dare to rush into the sterile space.

The Tinkerer took a deep drag of his cigar and blew the smoke all over the face of the Old Bai man lying on the operating table. He said earnestly, "One million for saving his life."

"Fuck! Is this the time to talk about this?" the Old Bai, fat man roared. His shout caused his men to draw their guns if they had them, and grab whatever they didn't. Wolverine stood fiercely outside the operating room, but still no one dared to barge in.

The Tinkerer, seemingly oblivious to the threat outside, chuckled and said, "Is there a better time? I won't raise the price; it's the one million I agreed on before. If you don't pay, I'm leaving."

"Ahhh! You damned bastard, I'm going to kill you! Kill you!"

The Tinkerer chuckled, watching coldly as a group of people stormed into the operating room. Some pointed guns at him, while others brandished whatever weapons they could find.

The top henchman who had "invited" the man had a gun pointed directly at the Tinkerer's head, seemingly ready to shoot at the slightest provocation.

This time, however, the Tinkerer paid no heed to these threatening actions. Although he was already unafraid, he was now completely uncooperative. He even held his cigar above the surgical field of vision and flicked the ash into it.

"Ah~, what are you doing, you damn bastard! Kill him, kill him for me!" The Old Bai, fat man shouted excitedly at his men.

The Tinkerer calmly replied, "Don't worry, flicking some ash in won't Deadman. Haven't you seen Rambo's movies? The male lead always uses gunpowder to disinfect wounds and stop bleeding. Hot ash won't cause bacterial infection."

A nurse nearby whispered, "But it could cause inflammation and post-operative adhesions." The Tinkerer chuckled and said, "Don't worry, even if this fat guy dies, he won't die from something so trivial."

"Shoot! Shoot him and kill him!" the Old Bai, fat man roared, unable to bear it any longer.

"Before you fire!" the Tinkerer shouted, drawing everyone's attention before slowly saying, "You need to make sure someone can clean up this mess. Otherwise, if I'm gone, you'll only have two options left."

"Let this fat man die here; or call 911 and an ambulance to take him to a proper hospital for surgery and abdominal closure."

The Tinkerer turned to the others with interest and said, "What If...? anyone wants to do this, then hurry up. This is your chance to rise to power. You don't think that fat man will survive this shot, or be out there enjoying himself, do you?"

"Your only savior is me. Oh, no, that's not right. Take this opportunity to kidnap another doctor who can perform this surgery; maybe it's not too late. But you'd better be quick."