Shock Therapy

In the deathly silent operating room, only the low clink of hemostats and scalpels could be heard. Beneath the oxygen mask came murky breathing, while the surgical lamp flickered faintly.

No matter how many times it had been washed with disinfectant, a faint moldy smell still lingered in the air.

The operation was being conducted under such terrible conditions.

The surgeon calmly stitched the flesh beneath his hands, letting dust from the ceiling beside him drift down in soft showers.

Only after the final stitch was completed did he set down his tools, take several steps back, and let out a weary sigh.

"Doctor Kamishiro, you've worked hard."

The assistant, who had only studied nursing for two years, removed his gloves and protective suit, deeply admiring the sacrifice and effort he had made over the past several days.

"It wasn't a particularly difficult operation. It just took a long time. I hope he can pull through."

Doctor Kamishiro glanced at the child on the operating table and said calmly, "I'll leave the patient's care to everyone from here on. As for medicine, I'll contact someone and have a batch of antibiotics delivered as soon as possible."

After politely greeting the others, he turned to leave.

The orderly anxiously urged him, "Mr. Kamishiro, the streets haven't been very safe lately. My home is nearby. After I finish my rounds, why not come stay at my place for the night?"

"No need. There's a bed in my office. I can make do there."

Doctor Kamishiro smiled. "Later, I also need to meet an old friend."

"Then please be careful on the way."

"I will."

Kamishiro returned to his office, sorted through the patients' files, carefully checked the current medicine supplies, rested for a few minutes, then picked up his pen and notebook