Come Hit Me!

Medical Center.

Emergency room.

Treatment room.

"Come on?"

Come on!

The middle-aged sociologist had the air of an Evil God of Fire Cloud encountering the Condor Heroes.

Adam didn't mind letting him give it a try.

He is not Sheldon and Beverly; he doesn't look down on sociologists as scientists.

"You're so young and handsome, you must have pulled some strings to get a doctor's job at New York Medical Center, right?"

The middle-aged sociologist pressed the stopwatch on his wrist.

"Being handsome is something you're born with, there's nothing you can do about it."

Adam smiled and said, "However, I was able to get into the Medical Center because of my own ability. In your eyes, is appearance the most important thing, while talent is secondary?"

While speaking, he scrutinized the middle-aged sociologist's hairline, giving him an expression that said, "You have no good looks whatsoever; you only became a sociologist because of your talent. Your first reaction to a problem should be your talent, not your superficiality."

"..."

The middle-aged sociologist's face darkened. "You need to be honest, otherwise the research is meaningless."

"Oh?"

Adam asked in surprise, "Does honesty have to make sense? Shouldn't it be about discerning the information yourself and then using that information to anger others? Besides, what decent person asks such a question?"

"That doesn't count."

The middle-aged sociologist smirked. "You knew beforehand, so you had a mental preparation and protection."

"So, there are too many variables."

Adam shrugged and said, "You're wasting your time on this topic, but you're a scientist, so it's understandable."

I have several scientist friends who go to work every day, which involves checking and sending emails, reading the news, scamming funding, and some even watch adult films in full screen on their office computers.

After all.

You always need to find something to do to appear busy, otherwise what if you get fired?

"You!"

The middle-aged sociologist failed to provoke Adam, but almost became angry himself.

Fortunately, he quickly realized what was happening and looked at Adam with surprise. "You're amazing."

"I'm not that great."

Adam shook his head. "That's because you haven't seen a real master of Yin-Yang, each one of them is exceptionally talented."

Sigh, people always say that talent is the most important thing, but in fact, talent is the most important. The upper limit of most people's lifelong efforts is only the lower limit of the starting point of a gifted genius.

These days, news reports always emphasize that hard work is the most important thing.

This is such a cruel thing.

Especially for those who firmly believe this.

I truly hope they never encounter a real genius in their lives; otherwise, the pain of having their dreams shattered is unbearable for most people.

Adam kept looking at him as he said this.

"..."

The middle-aged sociologist has already sensed the power of Yin and Yang.

However, he was mentally prepared.

This time, instead of getting angry, they were full of fighting spirit.

Do you have family?

The middle-aged sociologist knew that ordinary tactics were useless against Adam, so he decided to use ancient wisdom, pressed the timer on his wrist again, and asked with a smile.

"Certainly."

Adam frowned, sensing the other party's ill intentions, and reminded him, "Scientific investigations also have boundaries; never cross the basic lines."

"I cannot agree with that statement."

The middle-aged sociologist said proudly, "The topic I chose is to study PAI, which is the interval between provocation and aggression, the counter-negative emotion index. As long as I can anger you, I can do anything, just like no-holds-barred fighting. This is for science, not against any individual."

"Okay, that's enough."

Adam waved his hand and said, "I'm not participating."

"Why?"

The middle-aged sociologist got excited. "Is it because you value your family so much that you can't stand any insults directed at them, or perhaps you have some kind of relationship with your family that goes beyond the norm, and you're afraid I might inadvertently reveal something..."

"Carol!"

Adam ignored him and called to the nurse, "Mr. Desmond only has a superficial wound, please stitch him up."

"Good."

Nurse Carol immediately stepped forward.

"What's wrong? Are you scared?"

The middle-aged sociologist relentlessly hurled a string of insults at Adam's family.

Adam glanced at him.

Are you angry?

The middle-aged sociologist stared at Adam with a look of surprise. "You really want to hit me, don't you? Come on, hit me! Don't worry, I won't sue you."

Besides, I bought an exorbitant insurance premium; my insurance company charges me according to NASCAR driver standards. Why not take advantage of it? Come on!

"Mr. Desmond, you're joking."

Adam smiled and said, "I'm a doctor, how could I possibly hit a patient?"

After saying that, he turned and left.

"I'm serious, this is all for science. Don't suppress your anger, come and hit me... Ah!"

The middle-aged sociologist shouted at Adam's departing figure, then let out a painful cry.

"Sorry."

Nurse Carol's apologetic voice came through. "I'm new here, and I'm not very familiar with things yet."

"Ah! Ah! Oh, God!"

One after another, cries of anguish came from middle-aged sociologists.

Adam's lips curled slightly.

He is a law-abiding doctor, how could he possibly violate hospital rules and regulations and the law to beat a patient?

Absolutely not!

But the middle-aged sociologist's desire was still fulfilled by the fact that the nurse had insulted and enraged him in front of her.

Actually, if the middle-aged sociologist hadn't ignored Adam's warnings and dragged Adam's family into the mix, Adam would have told the nurse not to bully him.

At that time, Adam would most likely have John Carter stitch him up.

Unfortunately, he wouldn't listen.

Stitching up a wound on your face with a needle—if you're not careful, it's the needle that hurts!

However, Adam was still presumptuous and completely underestimated his standing in the nurses' eyes.

When the 'new' nurse, Carol, stammered as she finished stitching up the middle-aged sociologist and walked out of the ward, the entire emergency room nurses heard the news.

"That bastard!"

"That's outrageous!"

"First, they caused Dr. Duncan to be treated roughly, and now they're directly insulting Dr. Duncan and his family!"

"Ugh! I'm so annoyed!"

"No, we can't let him get away with this!"

"..."

The nurses whispered among themselves, each casting a malicious glance at the ward where the middle-aged sociologist was located.

The middle-aged sociologist, however, remained completely unaware.

A few minutes later.

"Someone has come to keep you company, Mr. Desmond."

Nurse Carol pulled in a gurney.

On the gurney was a very strong African American man, shirtless with bulging muscles all over his body, wearing only shorts on his lower body.

This is a professional boxer.

And it was an underground boxing match.

Emmm.

He was in a very bad mood because he had been knocked down three times in a row and knocked unconscious by his opponent's punch.

"This is Mr. Parnell."

Nurse Carol pulled the gurney next to the middle-aged sociologist, introduced him briefly, and then left.

This was never a VIP ward.

There are two beds for two patients in one ward.

Hospital beds are in short supply, so they must be arranged properly to avoid waste.

"Hello."

The middle-aged sociologist not only had no objections, but was also very happy. He had nothing better to do, and now he had another research subject. So he greeted him warmly.

"What's wrong with you?"

"I don't want to talk about this."

The burly man who fought in underground boxing glanced at him and then looked away.

The middle-aged sociologist's eyes lit up.

I don't want to talk, okay!

At the nurses' station outside the ward, the nurses gathered together, watching this area, with one person specifically keeping track of time.

Two minutes later.

Bang!

Snort!

Thump!

A sound like a punch hitting flesh rang out, followed by a figure letting out a painful groan as they slid out of the ward and crashed hard into the corridor.

The burly man's cold laughter came from the ward.

"That's the answer to your two questions."