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

Chapter 94 Lynn's Solution

"Twenty-five thousand US dollars. Cash."

Arjun looked at Lynn and offered her a price.

Twenty-five thousand US dollars.

That was exactly the surgery fee that Lynn received from Tuco at the end.

Arjun picked up the teapot and filled Lynn's cup with masala tea, the steam rising gently.

"Was the fountain beautiful that night?" Arjun continued to ask.

Tuko personally slit his subordinate's throat, rupturing the carotid artery. The blood pressure pumped out fresh blood, which could spray up to a height of more than two meters.

Arjun was also very clear about the details.

He's showing off his muscles.

Using its intelligence network to pressure Lynn, it attempted to control the pace of the upcoming negotiations.

Lynn looked at the black tea in her cup.

The various skills granted by the system, combined with the muscle memory he developed from immersing himself in a vast number of emergency cases in the orthopedic departments of top-tier hospitals in China during his previous life, constituted the absolute confidence he had as he sat here.

These extraordinary abilities elevated him to the highest level of battlefield surgeon, which is precisely the most scarce and coveted life-saving talisman in the underworld.

Lynn knew very well that as long as he continued to stay deep in this dark underground world and kept coming into contact with people like Arjun,

A "demon" like Tuco will only grow stronger.

Lynn raised her head, her gaze piercing Arjun's eyes.

"Twenty-five thousand dollars for one day of my time. Sounds fair."

Lynn leaned forward, placing his hands crossed on the table, exuding an extremely aggressive and oppressive aura.

"But I'm very busy right now. I was just promoted to chief resident. I'm in the emergency room, orthopedics, VIP wards, occasionally supervising interns, and dealing with all sorts of outside cases. I don't have enough time to spare."

He stared intently at Arjun.

"Ah-Jung, your order here—"

"The commission is too high."

Arjun's hands, which were resting on the table, tightened slightly.

"I provide the customers and bear the risks."

"I deserve my cut. How my core business operates is none of your business."

"Your core business is generic drugs," Lynn bluntly exposed.

"You organize free clinics and take on those tricky injury cases, with only one purpose: to maintain community loyalty."

It doesn't matter how much money the injured pay.

"As long as they survive, the whole street will continue to treat you like a saint and cover up your smuggling network."

Lynn tapped on the table, changing the pace of the negotiations.

"Ravi's internal jugular vein ruptured, and a deep warhead compressed the vagus nerve."

"In a basement without general anesthesia or imaging support, the pre-hospital mortality rate for this type of penetrating neck trauma combined with ruptured major blood vessels is over 85%, according to data from the US military in Afghanistan."

"Any top field surgeon in that situation can only perform a tracheotomy to prolong the patient's life and then pray that a medical helicopter will land within ten minutes."

Lynn's speaking speed continued to increase.

"But I saved his life. I used my fingers to perform blunt dissection and then used Cooley forceps to precisely close the rupture."

"I can remove a bullet and stitch up a blood vessel with my bare hands, even when the person is conscious, struggling, or bleeding profusely."

"In New York's underworld, you absolutely won't find another person who can do this. Not even retired special forces medics could."

"Your cousin's life, and a portion of your community reputation, depend on my scalpel. And you still want a cut from my consultation fees?"

Is this reasonable?

Arjun looked at the resident doctor in front of him.

When Speaker's Chief of Staff Grant introduced him, Arjun thought it was absurd.

How much blood can a 27-year-old Chinese resident see?

What real skills could he possibly have?

That's why he arranged for the drug addict who was injected with sclerosing agent in the basement as a compliance test.

But Lynn shattered his understanding time and time again.

He manually separated the nerve plexus, achieved extreme hemostasis, and pulled Ravi back from the brink of death despite massive bleeding.

Such incredible skills should never be found in such a young resident.

The absolute desire for control over life and death emanating from the other person made Arjun feel extremely unfamiliar, and even slightly frightened.

But he is Arjun after all.

"Dr. Lin, you are truly irreplaceable."

Arjun interlaced her fingers, showing no sign of backing down: "Rules are rules. If you feel the commission is unreasonable, you can choose to refuse next week's standby. The door is right over there."

To retreat in order to advance.

Arjun believed that Lynn was reluctant to part with the list she had introduced.

Lynn didn't even glance at the gate.

He picked up his teacup and took a sip.

"Hunters Point Warehouse District".

Lynn uttered a place name.

Arjun's pupils suddenly contracted.

"Three containers of Indian generic drugs: ceftriaxone, metronidazole, and lidocaine. Total value: $200,000."

"The supplier was a Sikh smuggling network that used Indian grocery importers in Newark as a cover. The customs documents listed it as spices and religious items."

This was intelligence he had gathered from Miller a few days ago, and Lynn knew he would need it sooner or later.

He looked at Arjun's shoulders, which stiffened instantly.

"The DEA, in conjunction with the NYPD, executed a search warrant. They arrested the warehouse guard and three low-level distributors."

Lynn put down her teacup.

"Click—" A sound came from between the teacup and the table.

"That day in the basement, you received a phone call, and then you wanted to kill Ravi to eliminate any future trouble."

"You said back then that three deliverymen had been arrested. Ravi was their supplier. If they confess, we can follow that lead all the way up: the deliverymen, the supplier, the warehouse, and further up—"

Lynn sliced ​​through Arjun's defenses layer by layer.

"The line that Ravi was in charge of was taken over by the DEA. You lost $200,000 worth of goods and your supply chain was cut off."

"Next week you want me on call 24/7. Is it to set up a new smuggling route, or to pick up an extremely dangerous shipment? You foresee the risk of a shootout."

Lynn stared into Arjun's eyes and delivered the fatal blow.

"You need a top-notch surgeon who can pull people back from the brink of death. This surgeon needs to be extremely skilled at treating gunshot wounds. You need me to be your team's lifeline."

"You have no right to talk to me about rules now, Arjun. Because you have no other choice."

"You won't find a better partner in all of New York."

Arjun stared intently at Lynn.

That gentle mask shattered completely, and a sharp killing intent suddenly surged from the depths of his eyes.

To silence them.

The thought only lingered in his mind for a second before being suppressed.

He quickly reviewed the events in his mind.

Lynn could never be just a doctor.

Even he himself spent a lot of money to figure out the details of the DEA's raids, so how could Lynn know so much about it?

Even the disguised product categories on the customs clearance documents were exactly the same!

The only explanation is that Lynn has high-ranking officials from the FBI or DEA behind him.

And then, considering the Speaker's Chief of Staff Grant's fondness for Lynn—

A layer of cold sweat seeped out from Arjun's back.

Lynn must not be touched.

At least not now.

Once he takes action, he will face a devastating purge from federal law enforcement agencies and high-ranking political figures.

A full minute passed.

Arjun's tense shoulders slowly relaxed, and her murderous intent was completely buried.

"Zero commission".

Ah-Jung spoke, her voice a little hoarse, "From now on, all the money from every job you take will be yours."

Lynn leaned back in her chair.

"But there is one condition."

Arjun added, "The supplies, instruments, and anesthetics you need for surgery can only be obtained from me. There aren't many people in New York who can provide a black market supply chain like mine."

"The more patients you treat, the more supplies you'll need. You have to let me earn that money."

He was implying that Lynn also couldn't live without him.

"Deal," Lynn agreed readily.

Monopolizing Lynn's supply chain is Arjun's bottom line.

Both sides clearly understood the trade-off between giving up commissions and securing exclusive supply of consumables.

Cooperation and mutual benefit were the survival lessons Lynn learned from Miller when she first arrived in the United States.

Lynn stood up and smoothed out the wrinkles in her coat.

"I'll be on call next weekend. You need to let me know the exact time in advance so I can find someone to cover for me."

Leaving Arjun's house, the night wind blew through the dilapidated streets of the Bronx.

Lynn got into the car and started the engine.

He was increasingly enjoying this feeling.

Rules, pricing power, life and death—everything was reshuffled under his scalpel.

He has completely shed his status as a low-level doctor who passively takes orders and is now taking control of the underworld.

Half an hour later.

Lynn pushed open the door to the Victoria apartment.

The main lights in the living room were not on; only a floor lamp emitted a warm yellow light.

Victoria sat quietly on the sofa, wearing a loose white shirt with nothing underneath.

The resistance in her eyes had faded, replaced by submissive acceptance of instructions.

Lynn's gaze passed over her and landed in the center of the living room.

There stood a black professional tripod.

A brand-new Sony mirrorless camera was mounted on top, replacing the previous crude mobile phone photography.

The camera has been precisely focused on the position of the sofa.

The red recording indicator light was flashing regularly in the darkness.

Like a quietly watching eye.

Lynn stood behind the tripod, her gaze passing over the camera lens and landing on Victoria on the sofa.

She crossed her legs, her fingers unconsciously clenching the hem of her clothes, her knuckles turning white.

The pride of the orthopedic surgeon vanished in front of the camera, leaving only tension after the pretense was removed.

The filming took only twenty minutes.

The whole process was extremely smooth.

Victoria carried out Lynn's every instruction perfectly without any hesitation.

In front of the camera, she completely relinquished control.

That huge problem has been silently eliminated by the man in front of him.

Lynn did not take credit for the task, nor did she take the opportunity to make any inappropriate physical demands.

Fear and anxiety were replaced by a strange sense of security.

As long as Lynn gives the order, she only needs to obey.

This psychological dependence on strength took root quietly in her heart like a vine.

"Click."

Lynn pressed the stop button.

Victoria tightened her collar. She looked up at Lynn, who was removing the memory card.

"How exactly did you deal with that person?" she finally asked the question that had been on her mind all night.