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

From cardiac arrest to irreversible brain damage, a total of four minutes elapse.

It only takes six minutes from brain damage to death.

Arjun instinctively took a step forward.

Lynn's right hand was still gripping the curved pliers, the tips of which were biting the bullet.

Let go, the bullet slides back, and all the previous separation was in vain.

It might take ten minutes to find it again, but patients don't have ten minutes.

If you don't let go, your left hand won't be free to perform CPR.

Both paths lead to death.

If Cassie were here, she could take over chest compressions.

Her compression rate is 100 times per minute, with an error of no more than two times.

Lynn only needs to focus on the warhead.

But she's not here.

Lynn opened the panel and used one skill point to upgrade "Adrenaline Burst" to intermediate level.

[Improved Effects: Pain perception reduced by 50%, reaction speed increased by 30%, explosive power increased by 30%. Duration: 120 seconds]

Skill activated.

A surge of heat traveled up my spine and into my brain, slowing the pace of the world around me and even slowing the flickering of the operating lights.

The price of this enhancement is a racing heart and throbbing veins in the temples; this state cannot be maintained for long.

Lynn's movements became quick and steady.

"Sachi, put down the suction tube. Place your hands together and press them down on the center of his sternum."

"Use the heel of your palm for power. Extend your arm straight and slam it down with your body weight. Almost twice per second. Press down at least five centimeters."

Sachi put down the suction tube, placed his palms on Ravi's sternum, and began to press.

It was pressed into place on the first try.

Chest compressions are a basic skill for battlefield medics, and he performed them on his wounded comrades more than once.

Those experiences made his pressure steady and powerful, pressing in more than five centimeters each time, with a frequency of just close to twice per second.

Each press and vibration could cause Lynn's pliers tips to shift slightly.

He had to readjust his direction in the less than half-second interval between each press.

Fortunately, Sachi's movements now appear very slow to him.

Once, adjust the clamps; once more, adjust the clamps again…

"Adrenaline 1 mg, intravenous injection."

"Second layer from the right, orange label, pre-filled syringe. Remove the cap and push it directly into the tube."

Before Sachi could even make a move, Arjun stood up on his own initiative. He was the best pharmacist and extremely familiar with these drugs.

He stepped out, opened the cabinet, and with a quick glance, found the pre-filled syringe with the orange label.

Remove the needle cap, insert it into the infusion port of the intravenous access, and push it all the way in.

Professional and accurate.

After doing all this, Arjun quickly retreated to a corner to avoid causing any disturbance.

Sachi continued pressing.

For each set of thirty repetitions, he would whisper "thirty" on the twenty-eighth repetition to remind Lynn of the rhythm.

This is a common practice when coordinating with a partner during battlefield first aid.

Five seconds.

ten seconds.

Fifteen seconds.

The straight line on the electrocardiogram jerked slightly.

It shook again.

Then, there is a sharp peak.

The QRS complex has reappeared.

It was crooked and irregular, but it finally started to move.

Heart rate 48.

Blood pressure cannot be measured.

Sachi added five more compressions to confirm that the heartbeat was not transient.

His palm was still pressed against Ravi's sternum, not moved away immediately, and he could feel the heart beneath his palm resume beating on its own.

He slowly withdrew his hand, exhaled, and finally made amends for some of his mistakes.

Arjun's hand, which was holding the empty syringe, fell to its side.

With a final pry from his right hand, Lynn dislodged the bullet from the fascia.

He pulled the pliers, along with the bullet, out of the wound, then flipped his wrist, and the bullet fell into the curved plate.

The "ding" sounded particularly crisp in the clean area.

Lynn loosened the pliers.

The effects of the "adrenaline rush" are fading.

The heat flowed back from the extremities, and the throbbing in the temples turned into a dull ache.

But Lynn couldn't rest.

He relied on the physical fitness and endurance he had previously been rewarded with to keep going.

The bullet was removed, but the tear in the internal jugular vein remained open.

The 3-centimeter laceration had jagged edges and the bleeding was only stopped by temporarily clamping it with two hemostats.

If the clamps are loosened, Ravi will go into shock again within minutes due to blood loss.

Just as Lynn was about to pick up the needle holder, Arjun's phone rang.

Arjun turned to the side, lowered his voice, and answered in Hindi.

His voice was very soft, his speech was slower than usual, and his pronunciation was clearer than usual.

Even without understanding Hindi, Lynn could tell from that tone that he was speaking to someone who could decide his life or death.

The call lasted less than two minutes.

Ah-Qiong hung up the phone, clutching it in her palm with the screen facing down.

He emerged from the corner again.

He walked toward the operating table, toward Ravi.

Sachi sensed something was wrong. His left hand silently hung down to his side, four inches from the holster on his lower back.

Arjun stood at the head of Ravi's bed, looking down at her cousin's face.

The ECG waveform on the monitor was jumping around, and the heart rate was 52, which was a little stronger than before.

Ravi's lips had just turned from gray back to light brown, and there was a faint movement of his eyeballs under his eyelids, as his superficial consciousness was crawling back.

Arjun extends his right hand.

Five fingers hovered above Ravi's neck.

The two hemostats were clamped below, their metal arms crossed like two iron nails driven into the riverbed, blocking the last flood.

That hand had just injected an adrenaline injection three minutes ago, helping to pull Ravi back from the brink of death.

Now it's stopped above the same person's throat.

"Three deliverymen have been arrested."

Arjun said, "Ravi is their superior."

He pressed his thumb against Ravi's carotid pulse point.

"If they confess, we can follow this line all the way up: the deliveryman, the supplier, the warehouse, and further upstream..."

Arjun's right hand moved down two inches from the carotid artery, hovering just above the two hemostats.

He just needs to remove those two pairs of pliers.

The tear in the internal jugular vein would refill with blood within seconds, and Ravi's blood pressure couldn't withstand the second round of blood loss.

The heart will stop beating again within three to four minutes, and this time, there will be very little blood left to circulate in the body.

"You can kill him."

Lynn spoke.

Arjun's finger stopped in mid-air.

Sachi's hand had already reached the snap of the holster.

"But not now, and not here."

There was an operating table between him and Arjun, on which lay a young man with his neck wide open, hemostats protruding, who had just been pulled back from cardiac arrest.

"Once he's off this operating table, you can kill him or do whatever you want with him. It's a matter between you brothers, it has nothing to do with me."

Lynn crumpled up the tissue and threw it into the trash can.

"But he's still on my operating table, still my patient."

He picked up the needle holder, ready to suture.

"I will not allow patients to die on my operating table."

Arjun stared at him without saying a word.

The operating lights hummed with electricity.

The two of them remained frozen in place.

The monitor beeped intermittently.

Arjun looked at Ravi's face.

Ravi's brow bone bears a slight resemblance to his.

His cheekbones are higher, like his aunt's.