American Medicine: I survived the death knell thanks to the devil.

Joe's wound was located on the inside of his right thigh and was an old gunshot wound.

The wound hadn't healed properly, resulting in hypertrophic scarring. The remaining shrapnel was stuck deep in the gracilis muscle, constantly rubbing against the nerve with each muscle movement.

"It will be a little swollen and painful, just bear with it."

Lynn pressed one hand around the wound and held the needle in the other.

The needle is inserted into the skin, and the medication is injected to form a wheal. The needle is then inserted deeper to infiltrate the subcutaneous tissue and muscle fascia layer by layer.

This type of local infiltration anesthesia can block pain sensation, but it cannot completely eliminate the pulling sensation.

Once the anesthesia took effect, Lynn reached out her hand.

"Scalpel".

Cassie handed him the knife handle.

Lynn only cut through the surface skin and fascia before stopping the knife and throwing the scalpel back into the plate.

Cassie was about to hand him the pliers.

"No."

Lynn threw the scalpel back into the plate.

Under Joe's horrified gaze, Lynn extended his gloved index finger and plunged it directly into the bloody, mangled incision.

"What are you doing! Fuck! That's my leg!" Joe was so scared he tried to jump up.

"Hold him down," Lynn said.

Although Cassie was also shocked, she still held the patient's legs firmly.

Compared to cold, sharp metal instruments, fingers have a natural advantage.

After acquiring the [Fingertip Blunt Separation Technique - Master Level], Lynn felt that his fingers were more sensitive and his sense of touch was amplified.

He could clearly feel the direction of muscle fibers, the pulsation of blood vessels, and the frequency of the slight tremors of nerves.

Lynn gently pried apart the adhered parts little by little, following the muscle lines with his right hand.

Joe gritted his teeth, his forehead covered in cold sweat.

Although he didn't feel pain after being given anesthesia, he could feel the finger stirring deep inside his thigh, and the soreness and terrifying foreign object sensation made his whole body tense.

Lynn's fingers carefully avoided every tiny blood vessel, gently parting the fragile femoral nerve until his fingertips touched the cold, hard foreign object.

"Found it."

Lynn hooked his wrist.

"Ding-dong."

He pried out a deformed warhead, encased in connective tissue, with his bare hands and threw it into the stainless steel curved plate.

The whole process took less than two minutes.

The amount of bleeding was surprisingly small, and ligation was not even necessary to stop the bleeding.

Cassie's mouth dropped open, her big eyes sparkling with admiration.

As a doctor who graduated from a top medical school in New York, she knew what this meant.

She had only ever seen this kind of manual separation in books; it required an extreme familiarity with human anatomy and an extremely steady hand.

As modern instruments become increasingly advanced, doctors are becoming more and more reliant on them, and people who can master this kind of manual technique are becoming very rare.

"Sew it up".

Lynn took the needle holder.

Brush brush.

The stitches are fine and even.

"alright."

Lynn cut the thread and took off her gloves.

Joe tried to sit up.

"Don't rush."

Lynn pressed down on his shoulder, "The anesthesia will take another hour to wear off, and you can't feel this leg right now."

Although his legs felt numb, he could feel that the foreign body sensation that had tormented him for two years had disappeared.

The doubt in Joe's eyes turned into awe, an instinctive obedience to superb skill.

He pulled an envelope from his pocket and threw it on the operating table.

It's a consultation fee.

Immediately afterwards, he reached his hand behind his waist.

Cassie was startled and instinctively tried to grab a scalpel to defend herself.

Joe pulled out an unnumbered Glock 19 with anti-slip tape wrapped around the grip.

He turned the gun upside down and handed it to Lynn.

"Agent Miller asked me to bring this to you."

Joe grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth.

"He said, if you mess this up, he'll give you the bullets inside."

"If you manage to do it barely, I'll take the gun back with me."

"But now it seems..."

He glanced at the perfectly stitched wound.

"This gun is yours, Doctor."

[Worldline complete]

[Reward: The skill "Pistol Mastery - Advanced" has been awarded]

A flood of knowledge about handgun disassembly, shooting posture, and recoil control came to mind.

Lynn took the Glock, the cold touch traveling through his palm.

He deftly removed the magazine, glanced at it, and then smoothly pushed it back in, chambered a round, and engaged the safety. His movements were fluid and effortless, like those of a seasoned gun user.

This move made Qiao's pupils shrink.

Who exactly is this doctor?

Such excellent medical skills, and such a skilled gunman too?

"Thank Mr. Miller for me." Lynn tucked the gun into his waistband.

"Since your legs are numb, don't push yourself."

Lynn winked at Cassie, "Dr. Quinn, lend a hand and take our guests back to their car."

Although Cassie was somewhat reluctant to serve this rude guy, she obediently used her small body to support Joe's left arm for the sake of the envelope.

The two men, one on each side, supported Joe, whose leg was dragging on the ground, and shoved him back into the black Nissan.

The two returned to their car, and Lynn closed the door and opened the envelope.

Most of the banknotes inside are twenty and fifty denominations.

It cost $2000 in total.

"Only 2000?"

Lynn counted them once, raising an eyebrow slightly.

For a minimally invasive foreign body removal procedure that barely used hemostats, this price is actually not low.

After all, this is only a 20-minute task.

However, considering the technical difficulty and hush money, this price can only be described as a friendly price.

After all, it was Miller's introduction that brought in the first order, so it was a way of paying respects.

"2000? That many!"

Cassie, standing nearby, gasped in surprise.

"That's outrageous! Lynn, you know I can't even make $1000 a month by reselling near-expiry painkillers and used stethoscopes on eBay, even if I work myself to death."

"It only took us twenty minutes!"

Lynn smiled and patted the money in his palm:

"Think that's too much? Think about how much it would cost to go to Metropolitan Hospital?"

"First, the triage registration fee plus the emergency room occupancy fee, the basic bill is $2500."

"Then, in order to determine the location of the shrapnel, a CT or MRI will definitely be needed, which will cost at least $3000."

"Then there are the operating room fees, anesthesiologist fees, surgeon fees... and by the time you're discharged, the bill will start at least at $30,000."

Lynn, having worked in the medical system, knew all about these things.

"Even if he has health insurance, it will cost four or five thousand dollars. That means he has to pay at least five thousand dollars out of pocket before the insurance company will start reimbursing the rest."

"Not to mention, going to the hospital will leave a medical record, and the police will come knocking on your door immediately."

"So, charging him two thousand is practically charity."

Cassie listened, completely stunned.

He was blinded by the cash earlier; running an illegal clinic is even more lucrative than he imagined.

Of course, the American healthcare system is even more lucrative.

"Here, this is yours."

Lynn counted out 800 dollars and handed it directly to Cassie.

"Your share."

"what?"

Cassie looked at the money handed to him and instinctively reached out to take it—it was the little goblin's instinct.

But she pulled her hand back halfway through.

"No...no, this is too much."

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to look away from Franklin's portrait.

"Are you the surgeon, or the client you hired? And... and you saw the technique just now, I didn't help at all, I just handed you a knife and pressed down on your leg."

"If it were any other doctor, I'd only get a tiny fraction of the fee for this kind of surgery."

Cassie held up four fingers and said cautiously:

"Give me four hundred... no, three hundred will do."