The More Bitterness You Endure, the More Bitterness There Is to Endure

Stephen Strange had never felt so despairing in his life.

Not long ago, he had been one of the finest neurosurgeons in America, maintaining an exceptionally high surgical success rate.

He owed it all to his extraordinary medical skills and those hands as precise and steady as machines. They utterly outclassed his peers, making him the hospital's brightest star, unmatched in prestige.

In everyone's eyes, Strange had been a clear winner in life. His career was soaring, and he had a beautiful girlfriend, Christine, by his side.

Except that girlfriend later became an ex.

The reason was simple: Strange was outrageously arrogant. Everything revolved around him, and he looked down on everyone equally.

Even when Christine broke up with him, he acted as though it did not matter, stubbornly claiming that a mere girlfriend was nothing. If one was gone, he still had two hands.

But he never imagined that one day, he would not even have two girlfriends left.

That day, Strange had been driving while buried in a medical file. One moment of distraction sent the car drifting out of its lane. It first scraped against another vehicle, then completely lost control and plunged off a cliff, tumbling all the way down and using the car to test the ground's hardness.

In the end, the ground's hardness was never tested. Strange's toughness was.

The expensive luxury car shattered into pieces on impact, yet he miraculously survived. Not a single part of him was missing, though he was gravely injured.

Unfortunately, fate had a cruel sense of humor. The most severely injured parts of his body were his hands.

They had not needed amputation, but the nerves in both hands had suffered catastrophic damage. From then on, they trembled uncontrollably, and even holding a pen steady became incredibly difficult.