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

"Dr. Lin, the hospital director is looking for you."

The nurse on duty didn't speak loudly, but the eyes of several of her colleagues all turned to look at her.

In a metropolitan public hospital, the hospital director looking for an intern is almost like the principal calling the parents.

It's either a good thing or a big deal.

Lynn took off her gloves and took the elevator to the seventh floor of the administration building.

The air changes as soon as the elevator doors open.

Downstairs, there was the smell of disinfectant and blood.

This smells like cedarwood incense.

The corridor was covered with thick carpets, and the walls were adorned with oil paintings depicting the portraits of past deans.

The same building, two worlds.

Lynn knocked on the oak door.

"Please come in!"

James Wilson, the 47th president of Metropolitan Hospital.

A graduate of the Harvard School of Public Health, specializing in hospital management.

A medical doctor who has never touched a scalpel.

But within the New York City health system's administrative circles, everyone calls him "Mr. Nice Guy".

At that moment, the nice guy quickly walked out from behind the table and grabbed Lynn's hand.

This wasn't a businesslike handshake.

It is a two-handed wrapping style.

It still has body heat.

"You've worked hard, Lin, you've really worked hard."

Wilson, with a sincere expression, personally pulled out the visitor's chair and even smoothed out non-existent wrinkles on the cushion with his palm.

"I heard everything that happened the night before last. When none of the five attending physicians were confident, you stepped forward alone..."

He shook his head, his tone tinged with restrained excitement.

"Amazing! The hospital is proud of you."

The Demon Worldline Convergence System has been activated.

[Demon detected...]

[Ethnicity: Belial (Hypocritical)]

Belial, the sixty-eighth in the sequence of fallen angels.

The Dead Sea Scrolls refer to him as the "Son of Worthlessness," wielding a sword, with the law as his chain and the contract as his noose.

(James Wilson: "An intern performed surgery on the city council president in my hospital... If this gets published, it will be a major medical malpractice incident. The council will kill me if I don't get Julian in. This has to be cleaned up.")

[You can choose from the following world lines]

[A: Swallow your anger, sign, and remain silent. (Reward: 1 Normal Skill Point)]

[B: Push the documents back and tell Wilson you will file an appeal with the state health department. (Bonus: Slightly increase your physical strength)]

[C: Plant a seed of trouble during the signing process and launch an attack at the opportune moment. (Reward: "Advanced Foreign Body Removal Technique Without Anesthesia")]

[D: You sign your name with tears of gratitude, accepting everything. (Reward: "The Dean's Kindness")]

Lynn looked at Wilson's perfectly timed smile.

very familiar.

Back in his previous life, when he was in a top-tier hospital, his department head smiled the same way.

When they were trying to steal his first SCI paper, they patted him on the shoulder and said, "Young man, don't rush, take your time to reflect."

When they transferred his research funding, they said, "Xiao Lin, this is for the overall layout of the department."

When it came to evaluating his professional title, he was told to give his materials to a colleague with connections, saying, "Xiao Lin, your opportunity is yet to come."

Those years weren't wasted.

I learned at least one thing: when your boss starts praising you, the knife is about to fall.

Later, Lynn also learned to stab people in the back.

really.

Wilson's smile remained unchanged, and his tone softened.

"However, Lin, there's something I need to make clear to you beforehand. It's also for your own protection."

coming.

"You are an intern. According to the state health department's regulations, all medical procedures performed by interns must be completed under the supervision of a licensed attending physician."

"Although the surgery the day before yesterday was an emergency, from a legal standpoint, if it is recorded truthfully that you were the lead surgeon..."

He paused for a moment, a troubled expression on his face.

That was a really good performance.

Oh, isn't Victoria the attending physician? Wasn't I under her supervision?

"This would constitute 'practicing without a license.' At best, your internship permit will be revoked; at worst... you won't even be eligible to take the licensing exam in the future."

Wilson sighed, as if he felt sorry for Lynn.

"I don't want to see this happen."

"So I discussed it with the Medical Quality Committee, and we decided that the surgeon's signature on the surgical record should be completed by a fully qualified attending physician. This is a standard procedure and also a way to protect you."

He didn't say the name.

No need to say anything.

In this hospital, there is only one young attending physician who is best-looking and most suitable to stand in the spotlight.

Julian Cabot.

Julian, who was in charge of making the pinky promise the whole time.

"Of course, the hospital will recognize your contribution. Everyone present saw your contribution."

Every word she says is for your benefit.

Every word is so irrefutable that you can't refute it.

A razor blade is wrapped in cotton, stuffed into your mouth, and then you're asked, "Is this cotton candy sweet?"

Wilson took a printed document from the drawer and pushed it in front of Lynn.

The modified surgical record can bypass the head of surgery as long as the person involved agrees.

Surgeon: Julian Cabot.

First Assistant: Victoria Vanderbilt.

At the very bottom, the surgical team members section:

"Lynn (Intern, assistant)."

Support and coordination.

He was the one who performed the open-chest surgery. He was the one who stitched up the pulmonary artery. From the first incision to the last stitch, nineteen minutes, it was all him.

On paper, he's just a "supporting role"?

Not even a second assistant.

Lynn picked up the document.

Read it page by page.

very slow.

Wilson kept smiling, but his back unconsciously leaned against the chair back.

He had seen far too many people sign their names at this table.

Anxious, fearful, angry, crying.

But I've never seen anything like this before.

The intern held a document that humiliated him and scrutinized it word by word as if it were an academic paper.

"Dean."

Lynn spoke up.

"I have a small question."

"you say."

Has this revised surgical record been filed with the Medical Quality Committee?

Wilson was taken aback.

The question itself is not against the rules.

But an intern shouldn't ask that question.

"certainly."

He smiled and nodded. "Everything went according to procedure."

"That's good."

Lynn put down the documents and picked up a pen.

But he didn't sign it directly in the bottom column.

He turned to the blank space on the second page and wrote a line of text neatly:

"I confirm that I have read the revised surgical record. My signature only represents my compliance with the hospital's administrative decision and does not represent my endorsement of the authenticity of the surgical record's contents."

Then, sign it. Date it.

Wilson's smile froze for a moment.

Only for a moment.

"Lin, what's wrong with you...?"

"The dean said this is to protect me."

Lynn looked up, his expression extremely sincere.

He was even more sincere than Wilson.

"I'm just an intern. If someone brings up old accusations someday, saying I participated in falsifying medical documents, I won't even have a chance to defend myself."

"Adding this line won't affect the hospital at all, but it adds an extra layer of protection to my career."

"You won't mind, will you?"

Wilson looked at the line of text.

Delete it? That would be tantamount to admitting that there's a problem with the document.

Keep it? This line of text is like a nail, firmly nailed to the modified record, proving that the person who signed it knew it was fake.

"Of course I don't mind. It's a good thing for young people to be legally conscious."

"Thank you, Dean."

Lynn stood up and bowed slightly.

……

As Lynn left the dean's office, the smell of cedarwood in the corridor made her feel a little nauseous.

He took the elevator down to B1, walked through the parking lot, and went to the very corner.

The doomsday survival vehicle huddled quietly in the shadows.

Lynn tapped three times rhythmically.

This was their agreed-upon code.

The car door popped open, and the smell of instant noodles and alcohol swabs wafted out.

A cute little face peeked out from inside the car.

Cassie was curled up in the driver's seat, with an old notebook covered in stickers in front of her and a half-eaten cup of instant noodles next to her.