Medical Center.
Surgery conference room.
"Is the condition really that serious?"
Adam glanced at Dr. Burke, who was standing beside him with a bitter smile.
Only when they felt they could not handle a case would Dr. Burke and the others shirk it like this, terrified of bearing historical responsibility.
Otherwise, everyone would probably be fighting to operate on God's Right Hand.
It was not only a symbol of academic standing, but also the ultimate expansion of one's connections and influence.
The man before them was one of the founding fathers of modern surgery.
Just look at how even a heavyweight like the Chief of Surgery was his student. He truly had disciples everywhere.
Those of lower standing, even if they were foolishly bold enough to try, would never be chosen by God's Right Hand.
They were neither high nor low enough.
That was why the situation had become so awkwardly stuck.
"Walter has aortic and mitral valve stenosis, tricuspid regurgitation, and requires double valve replacement surgery along with tricuspid valve repair."
The Chief of Surgery chose his words carefully.
"And?"
Adam nodded.
If that were all, it would not have frightened so many renowned doctors away from operating.
"I also have chronic atrial fibrillation, pulmonary hypertension, and a left atrial thrombus..." God's Right Hand began counting his various underlying conditions on his fingers. "These doctors all think that once they cut me open, they'll kill me."
"You can't blame them."
Adam shook his head.
At that age, with so many stacked negative buffs, even he felt the odds were grim without reviewing the detailed medical records.
No wonder Dr. Burke had backed off so quickly.
Once he took the case, there was a ninety-nine percent chance Walter would die on his operating table.
When that happened, the medical world