Medical Center.
Emergency Ward.
Urban Soldier King: Military Doctor Hunt felt utterly stifled after being shut down by Cristina.
This was completely different from the triumphant return rotation he had imagined.
Damn it!
He had not even gone home. Instead, he had used his battlefield first-aid skills to save several patients.
Shouldn't the city girls' eyes have lit up at the sight of him, throwing themselves into his arms?
Why did she think the way he endured the pain and stitched himself up directly was unmanly?
And instead of PTSD, she thought it was M?
What was wrong with this city?
What was wrong with this world?
"Can you staple this part for me?"
Major Hunt glanced at the wound on his thigh and handed the Automatic Suture Device to Cristina.
"Of course."
Cristina took the Automatic Suture Device and teased, "But let me make one thing clear first: I'm not S!"
"...I'm not M either!"
Major Hunt said speechlessly.
"Good."
Holding the Automatic Suture Device, Cristina helped him close the remaining wound and casually said with a smile, "Otherwise, that's a condition too. Better get treated early.
Can I ask you something?"
"What?"
Major Hunt perked up.
He knew it!
There was no way city women could be completely uninterested in the legendary experiences of a returning Soldier King like him.
"You stitched yourself up with a rat-a-tat-tat without anesthesia. That's a battlefield habit of yours, right?" Cristina asked.
"Of course."
Major Hunt looked as if it were only natural. "We're on the battlefield, fighting for the country... Conditions on the battlefield change by the second. You have to adapt and act swiftly and accurately.
For a minor injury like this, who has time for anesthetic?
You just grit your teeth and get through it."
"Then why didn't you