House of Order The special operating room on the third floor has the best lighting among all the rooms.
Just after noon, the sunlight slants in from a row of high windows. After being filtered by special frosted glass, it becomes even and soft, without causing dazzling reflections in the surgical area.
Brass candlesticks stand in the four corners of the room, with smokeless white candles inserted to provide supplementary lighting in the shadows.
Oberyn Martell was lying on the operating table, his naked upper body had been cleaned, revealing hideous wounds.
The dagger wound on the chest was only an inch away from the heart, the wound on the left shoulder was bone deep, the puncture wound on the right thigh was still oozing blood, the right ankle was swollen and purple, and at least four ribs were fractured, not counting countless scrapes and bruises.
Excessive blood loss left his skin an ominous gray-white color, his breathing was shallow and rapid, and his pulse was so weak that it was almost impossible to feel it.
Corleone was standing next to the operating table, having put on a clean white gown and special leather gloves that he had ordered made a long time ago. Although they were not as good as the latex gloves in his previous life, they were at least better than using bare hands.
His face was covered with a cloth, only his eyes were exposed, and his expression was extremely focused.
With the blessing of [Surgery Iv4] and medical concepts that surpass this world for thousands of years, Corleone's Medicine has almost reached the pinnacle. However, Oberyn's injury is too serious, and even he is really not sure whether he can be saved.
It is said that despite this kind of injury, this guy actually killed several people. The Red Viper of Dorne can indeed be described as awesome.
The room was very quiet, with only the slight sound of the collision of equipment and Oxiang Lun's weak breathing.
The sun is moving slowly.
From noon to afternoon, time passes unconsciously.
The deepest stab wound on Oberyn's chest has been treated, the intestines have been repositioned, and the blood vessels have been tied. Now only the last few stitches of skin suturing remain.
The hunting dog was leaning against the wall next to the door, with his arms folded across his chest. The severely burned face looked even more ferocious under the sunlight.0
He watched the entire Corleone operation, from debridement to hemostasis, from visceral repair to bone fixation, for three full hours.
The hunting dog's eyes gradually became serious and serious from the initial sarcasm and fun.
He has seen too many so-called "The Doctor". They only use red-hot irons to burn wounds on the battlefield, bandage broken limbs with dirty cloth strips, and use poppy milk to make the wounded die in their sleep.
But Corleone's performance gave him a feeling that was almost like appreciating art.
Although hounds have always scorned such things as "art".
"You sew more neatly than the best tailor in King's Landing." He suddenly said, with a hint of reluctant admiration in his voice.
Hearing this, Corleone did not raise his head, the needle tip passed through the skin, tightened the suture, tied it, and cut it.
The movements are completed in one go.
"The tailor sews cloth." He said calmly, "What I sew is people. If the cloth is broken, you can sew it again. If the person sews it, he will die."
"That's why you sew so carefully." The hunting dog sneered, "Are you afraid that he will die?"
"I'm afraid he will die in my hands." Corleone finally finished the last injection and straightened up. "That will be very troublesome, after all, I need him to support the opening of my Free Fighting Arena."
As he spoke, Corleone moved his stiff neck.
The surgery lasted too long, and his shoulders and back were protesting.
"What a pity." The hound walked over from the wall, his boots making a heavy sound on the stone floor. He stopped beside the operating table, looked down at Oberyn's face that was pale due to excessive blood loss, and mocked. "Looking at this, I'm afraid he won't be able to fight for your Fighting Arena."
Hearing this, Corleone took off his bloody gloves and threw them into the copper basin next to him.
The water in the basin has been dyed dark red.
"At least he won't die today."
"As a human being, as long as you are alive, there is always hope."
Hearing what he said, Hound remembered his previous encounter on the River Avenue and nodded thoughtfully.
He stepped forward and stared at the sutures on Oberyn's abdomen. He saw that the threads were frighteningly neat, the stitch lengths were exactly the same, and the knotting method was as delicate as some kind of lost craft.
"Your skills," The Hound said slowly, "Are a hundred times better than that old loser in the Red Keep."
"They should have put the Grand Maester's necklace around your neck instead of sitting on the council with that idiot who only knows how to put people to sleep with LSD."
Corleone was washing his hands when he heard the words and glanced at the hunting dog.
In fact, he had long noticed that the hunting dog had been staying in the room. During the operation, the guy was leaning against the door, neither making a sound nor leaving, like a silent overseer.
This seriously violates medical common sense. After all, surgery requires a sterile environment, not the attack of all bacteria.
But Corleone didn't kick him out.
After all, he has long been accustomed to operating under various harsh conditions.
When dealing with Severed Wrist for James in the dilapidated wooden house on the River Avenue, and when cleaning up Vargo Hurt in the camp of the Warriors.
Corleone can proudly say that since I started practicing medicine, I have not had any bad reviews!
Dry your hands and turn to face the hound.
"Pycelle became Grand Maester not because of his Medicine."
"It's because he has been recognized by the city in six fields including history, law, astronomy, and advanced mysticism."
"To forge a Maester's chain, you need to spend years or even decades under the arcades of Old Town. Medicine is just one part of it, and it is often not the most important part."
Hearing this, the hunting dog let out a disdainful snort.
"So those bachelors are just armchair nerds, and those who can really save people are not recognized."
He paused and his eyes fell on Corleone's face. "What about you? Where did you learn this? Don't tell me that a certain Farmer taught you."
Hearing this, the candlelight flickered in Corleone's eyes, but he did not answer.
His own light fell on the half-disfigured face of the hunting dog.
The burn marks extend from the forehead to the chin, and the skin is wrinkled and twisted, showing a terrible texture of burnt black and dark red0
One side of the nose is collapsed, the lips are crooked, and only a tiny bit of the ear is left.
This is a face that can make children stop crying and adults avoid.
But Corleone looked at it very seriously, as if appreciating some kind of art.
"I can cure it," he said.
The hound's smile disappeared, "What?"
"Your face." Corleone pointed to his cheek. "Burn, third degree, deep tissue damage, accompanied by severe scar contracture, but it is not irreversible."
"Through a series of surgeries such as skin grafting, soft tissue reconstruction, and scar release, I can restore 60 to 70 percent of your facial function and appearance."
"Of course, it's impossible to completely go back to the past, but at least... you won't be looked at like that by everyone who sees you."
As soon as these words came out, an extremely complicated look flashed in the hunting dog's eyes, and then turned to sarcasm.
"So, what's the price, Corleone.
"Ten thousand Gold Dragon."
Corleone smiled and extended his index finger, "Or, you owe me another favor."
Hearing this, the hunting dog fell silent.
His fingers unconsciously touched the burned half of his face, and his fingertips touched the uneven scars.
Ten thousand Gold Dragon.
That was enough money to buy a small castle or hire an army of five hundred men for a year.
Of course he could afford it when he was at his most generous. After all, as the champion of the tournament, the bonus alone was 40,000 Gold Dragon.
But it was later snatched away.
"I have enough debts."
The hunting dog sneered, "And your favors are too expensive."
"In order to repay you for rescuing me and the wolf cub on the River Road, it took me two months to find Amory Lochy in the fishing village near Blackwater Bay. The bastard hid like a mouse. I broke the arms of three people before I found out his whereabouts."
Corleone raised his eyebrows. "But you found it."
"I found it." The hunting dog said coldly, "Then you brought him to the imperial meeting and had his head crushed by the Magic Mountain before he told the truth."
"What a damn good deal, I owe you a favor, you got a dead witness, the Prince of Dorne got a corpse."
"Lochy will not live long." Corleone walked back to the table, poured two glasses of Ale, and pushed one of them to the hound. "Tywin will not let him say that name."
"Even if Magic Mountain doesn't take action, someone else will. At least now, everyone knows that Lochy was silenced, which is more convincing than his testimony."
The hound took the glass but didn't drink it.
He stared at the sloshing liquid in the cup, as if thinking about something.
"Forget it."
After a long time, he slowly spoke.
"What?" Corleone asked in confusion.
"My face." The hunting dog took a sip of wine and raised his hand to touch the scars again. "I don't have that much money, and I don't want to owe you any more favors."
"Besides, this face is quite nice."
"It can help me distinguish people. Children will cry when they see me, women will hide when they see me, and men will clenched the hilt of their swords when they see me. But at least, their reactions are all real."
"There is no disguise, no fake smile, no false politeness between nobles. They are afraid of me, or they hate me, or both, but at least they don't lie to me."
Corleone looked at him, was silent for a long time, and then nodded slowly.
"It makes sense." He said, "A real face is always more precious than a fake smile."
"So." The hunting dog didn't seem to want to drag it on any longer. He finished the wine in a big gulp and then put the glass down. "The operation is over and the person is still alive."
"Where's my reward?"
Hearing this, Corleone neatly took off a small cloth bag from his waist and threw it on the table. The bag landed on the wooden board with a dull metal collision sound.
"Two hundred Gold Dragon."
However, the hunting dog just stared at the bag and did not take it immediately.
"Two hundred?" There was obvious dissatisfaction in his voice. "I saved the life of the Prince of Dorne, and it was worth two hundred Gold Dragon. How is his life so cheap in your eyes?
"In my eyes, all lives have a price tag."
Faced with the hound's doubts, Corleone said calmly, "Oberyn Martell's life is very valuable, but he only has half a life left now, and the person who saved his life, your labor fee, is only worth so much."
"You can choose not to."
As soon as he said these words, the hunting dog pressed his hand on the hilt of the sword.
But considering Corleone's performance on Hejian Avenue, he immediately let go.
"Are you short of money?"
Seeing his appearance, Corleone blinked.
Based on Sandor "The Hound" Clegane's character and force level, he can make a living by robbing all the way. Although he won't become rich, he will still have no problem surviving.
Hearing this, the hunting dog's expression twisted.
"That little bitch!" he said through gritted teeth, "Stole all my money, forty-seven Gold Dragon, and a fine steel dagger while I was sleeping."
"Then she ran away!"
As soon as these words came out, Corleone couldn't help but raise the corners of his mouth slightly.
"Ellie ia Stark?"
"Who else but her?"
The hunting dog angrily said, "I took her all the way from Harrenhal to Lee River City. I taught her how to use sewing needles, how to kill people, and how to survive in the wild."
"What's the result?"
"That little bitch not only stole my purse, but she didn't even leave me any horses, so I had to rob a team of five mercenary knights!"
Hearing this, Corleone couldn't help but smile more and more.
He could imagine the scene, when the hunting dog woke up and found that the money and the horse were gone, and the stubborn little girl disappeared without a trace.
Then he probably flew into a rage and vowed to find her, hang her up and beat her.
But the strange thing is that there is not much anger in the hunting dog's tone, but a kind of... pride?
He seems to be very proud that the little girl he taught has finally grown into an excellent thief.
"Haha..." Corleone shook his head and asked, "Did you look for her later?"
"I have looked for her." The hunting dog nodded. "I have been looking for half a month, along the Green Fork River south, and I have asked every hotel and every village, but no one has seen her."
"Then I gave up. Maybe she died, maybe she was caught, maybe she found her family, who knows."
The room became quiet.
There was only the faint hustle and bustle of the city in the distance, and the occasional footsteps downstairs.
At this moment, the door was suddenly violently knocked open.
It's Rorge.
"Ser! You guessed it right, something happened!"
He walked in quickly, not caring about the hunting dog in front of him, and said directly, "Right now, the whole King's Landing is going crazy, saying that the Eron Wood family is plotting to assassinate the prince, and Dorne is about to fall into civil strife!"
As soon as these words came out, Corleone's pupils shrank slightly.
He had some guesses about the inside story of the assassination, but he didn't expect the news to spread so quickly.
It had only been a few hours since Oberyn was assassinated, so this was more like a pre-prepared script, just waiting for the assassination to happen and immediately casting a net across the city.
Eron The Wood family has been brought to light.
If they are really the mastermind, the most important thing to do at this moment is to hide the traces rather than making a big splash. This is more like someone trying to prove their crimes!
But this is none of Corleone's business.
The opening of Free Fighting Arena is very important.
He had been planning for several months and invested a huge amount of Gold Dragon in a core project aimed at completely changing the entertainment and gambling landscape of King's Land, and he even did not hesitate to fall out with Tywin to create a topic to attract attention.
The highlight of the opening ceremony is "Red Viper's Revenge", which has already caused a sensation in the city, Oberyn Martell versus Gregor Clegane.
This is not only a life and death duel, but also the biggest stunt involving huge bets and attracting the attention of the whole city and even the seven countries.
The tickets have long been sold out, and the betting houses are piled up.
However, Oberyn is now unable to play, which means that this much-anticipated opening battle will be completely aborted.
The economic losses will be inestimable, and more importantly, the prestige of Corleone will suffer a serious public blow for the first time!