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

"The front cockpit/pilot area remains unchanged."

"The operating area in the middle cabin is built to battlefield surgical standards, with a sterile operating table, instrument racks, and lighting system."

"The rear cabin has storage areas for medicines and supplies. A curtain is installed between the middle and rear cabins, which can be pulled open to create a makeshift recovery area."

Lynn shook his head helplessly, then turned to Sachi, "How many suitable docking spots are there?"

Sachi pulled a crumpled hand-drawn map from his pocket.

"It's already marked. There are a total of 47 traffic cameras and 12 security cameras within a two-mile radius of the South Bronx."

How many blind spots are there?

"Eleven. Four of them are close to the main road, too conspicuous. Three are in residential areas, and the neighbors are nosy about them."

Sachi drew four circles on the map.

"These are the only four available: two abandoned parking lots, one under an overpass, and one enclosed gas station. I've planned four routes, with no overlap between them."

"How long should we stop at the same point?"

"It's up to you, but I suggest it shouldn't exceed two days."

"Okay," Lynn agreed.

"Never stop at the same location for more than 48 hours. Use them in rotation and never backtrack."

Without further ado, the three drove back to the South Bronx that very night.

It came to a stop in an abandoned parking lot.

Most of the streetlights here are broken, and only the occasional headlights of trucks passing by on the overpass in the distance sweep across the view.

Cassie spread out everything she had taken from the hospital's "discarded passageway" and took inventory of it.

The so-called "disposal channel" means that she marks usable consumables as "expired and to be destroyed" in the hospital's supplies system and then takes them away from the waste exit.

She was already very familiar with this operation before Lynn recruited her.

"Gauze, sutures, sterile gloves, disposable syringes, two hemostatic forceps, three tweezers, four kidney dish..."

She read a long string of words, then fell silent.

"That's all."

Lynn crouched down and looked at the pile of things.

Sometimes, the orders that Ah-Jung gives them are ones they can't handle.

The main reason is that there isn't enough equipment; the previous car didn't have enough space to fit it all.

This is a good opportunity to expand production and purchase new equipment.

What's the most lacking thing?

"Electrocardiogram monitor and surgical lights."

Cassie said, "These two items are managed in a separate system in the hospital, with radio frequency chip tracking, so I can't take them out."

"Without a monitor, you can't even see the patient's heart rate during surgery. If you use ordinary lighting instead of surgical lights, you can't see the tissue layers at all deep inside the body cavity."

"How about we take one from my car?"

"No, we occasionally need to use that car to pick up Miller's orders."

Lynn stood up and took out a disposable cell phone.

"Arjun, I need you to get me two things."

There was a two-second silence on the other end of the phone.

"What is it?"

"A portable ECG monitor with a pulse oximeter. An LED shadowless surgical light, preferably a battery-powered, foldable model."

"Use your channels on the medical device black market. The cost will be deducted from my next surgery fee."

Arjun remained silent for a while.

"You did a good job with those surgeries recently."

"so?"

"So I agreed."

"Deliver it to the place you came to before within three days. I'll have someone leave it at the back door."

I hung up the phone.

Cassie listened intently to the whole thing, then asked:

"Is he really that easy to talk to?"

"It's not that I'm easy to talk to, it's because I can help him make more money."

Lynn put away her disposable phone and glanced at the time.

There are less than four hours left before I have to clock in for my early shift at Metropolitan Hospital.

While the enormous profits of the underworld are tempting, a legitimate identity during the day is the best cover.

Lynn and Cassie took a nap in the car, since they had to go to work the next day.

Sachi said goodbye to the two men, got out of the car, and went home.

A few hours later.

Metropolitan Hospital, Chief Resident's Office.

Lynn stared at the screen; it took three minutes just for this crappy Dell computer to boot up.

On the electronic medical record, a prescription for anti-inflammatory drugs for a 54-year-old Hispanic patient was highlighted in red by the system.

The medical insurance refused to pay "according to Kasikorn".

The reason is that it's not in the basic catalog, and if you pay out of pocket, it will cost $800 per month.

Lynn leaned back in his chair and began to settle the recent accounts.

The black clinic's share of the surgeries over the past few weeks, plus the $3500 that Victoria just transferred.

After deducting the money for buying the used RV, Sachi's weekly salary, and Miller's unchanging "peace allowance".

After paying the apartment rent, I only had a little over $6000 left in my account.

"Tap, tap, tap."

There were three knocks on the door.

The first thing I did was to let the other party know that I had arrived.

The second step is to give the other party time to prepare.

The third syllable signifies that I am coming in.

"Enter."

The door was pushed open, and a strong scent of expensive musk mixed with the fragrance of gardenias forcefully squeezed into the cramped cubicle.

The woman who entered was around 25 years old, with her blonde hair styled in a meticulous French low bun.

The dark gray haute couture suit dress was cut very tightly, outlining an exaggerated waist-to-hip ratio.

The neckline was open to below the third button, and two full, white mounds trembled slightly with each breath.

She was wearing a pair of red-soled high heels, a designer piece by Jimmy Zhou, which cost the equivalent of half a month's salary for an average resident doctor.

She carried a gift bag in her left hand and a business card between her right, her eyes quickly scanning the simple office.

"Serena Sterling, Senior Pharmaceutical Sales Representative, Pfizer."

The business card was gently placed on Lynn's desk; it was on heavy paper with gold lettering.

"Hello, Dr. Lin."

Serena placed the gift bag on the corner of the table and took out a box of La Maison du handmade chocolates from it.

"The Sunshine Law stipulates that the value of a single gift from a pharmaceutical company to a doctor shall not exceed 13.7 yuan."

Lynn glanced at the packaging. "This box is sixty dollars, which is four times the limit."

Serena smiled charmingly.

She took out four more identical small boxes from the bag and lined them up on the table.

"So I broke it into five parts, twelve pieces in each part."

"Compliant, and not a penny more."

After saying that, Serena leaned back against the edge of the desk.

Her thighs were pressed against Lynn's keyboard, and the hem of her suit skirt slid up, revealing a section of her shapely thighs covered in black stockings.

"I checked the federal public payment database."

Serena's fingers unconsciously traced her deep cleavage.

"In the entire orthopedics department of Metropolitan Hospital, you are the only doctor who has never taken a single penny from pharmaceutical companies."

"I was just transferred here last month," Lynn said calmly.

"But your attending physician received $12,000 in 'lecture fees' from Pfizer last year alone."

Serena seemed worried that Lynn didn't understand the American rules of the game.

She pulled a beautifully designed flowchart from her bag, and with her long, manicured fingers, she placed it on the square in the center.