Jessica carried the bottle of cheap 84 disinfectant around the clinic, spraying until mist hung in the air. Holding her breath, she kicked aside the swivel chair Natasha had just sat in.
"This perfume smells worse than a chemical weapon. Boss, are you sure you don't want to charge that woman a cleaning fee?"
Yang Ming ignored her grumbling. His gaze passed over Jessica's shoulder, fixed on the translucent panel at the edge of his vision that only he could see.
[Long-term teaching quest: The Healer's Legacy.] [Current progress: 95%]
Those final five percentage points had been stuck for almost half a month.
From Hell's Kitchen to Malibu, Jessica had learned to sort hemostats of different sizes in three seconds and pass Yang Ming precisely the right suture needle the instant he held out his hand.
Even the brick-thick copy of Netter's Atlas of Human Anatomy had grown dog-eared from her constant reading.
But in the system's judgment, she was still only a "senior scrub nurse."
"Jessica." Yang Ming closed the panel and tapped twice on the stainless-steel triage desk.
"What? If you're telling me to memorize that physiology textbook, I suggest you just dock next year's bonus." Jessica rolled her eyes and set the disinfectant bottle on the desk.
"Go wash your hands. Use the standard Seven-Step Handwashing Method, three times."
Yang Ming stood and took two sets of blue surgical gowns from the sterile cabinet behind him.
Jessica froze, her brow knotting.
"We're not even open yet, and there isn't so much as a homeless guy outside. Why do you want me to wash my hands? Planning to dissect me?"
"Starting today, you're no longer an assistant." Yang Ming tossed one of the gowns into her arms. "You'll be the lead surgeon for the next operation.