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

Chapter 98 The Reyes Family

The gunshot abruptly went silent.

In the center of the vacant lot, Arjun gracefully spreads her arms.

Beside the abandoned oil drums in the main passage, only one of the group of drug dealer assassins, heavily intoxicated with PCP, remained.

His shoulder blades were already shattered, and his lungs were pierced by shotgun shells; every breath was accompanied by a gush of blood and foam.

Under extreme hypoxia and hallucinations caused by high concentrations of drugs, the dying drug dealer's vision gradually blurred.

Backlit, Arjun's dark gray wool coat fluttered in the wind, the silhouette of her outstretched arms perfectly overlapping the skull and scythe tattoo on the drug dealer's neck.

"The Holy Spirit of Death —"

The drug dealer dropped his short-barreled AK with its magazine empty, slammed his knees into a pool of blood, clasped his hands together, and prayed desperately and fervently in the direction of Arjun.

"The Holy Spirit of Death —"

As he coughed up the last mouthful of blood, his pupils dilated completely, his body slumped forward, and his head slammed against the cold concrete floor.

The opposing formation split apart to both sides like a tide.

A Latino man wearing a dark black tactical jacket and sporting a neat short haircut stepped out of the shadows into the glow of a streetlamp.

He was completely unlike the loud and boisterous drug dealers often seen. His hands hung naturally at his sides, and his gait was steady.

Those deep brown eyes were extremely clear, subtly revealing a deep weariness of the surrounding bloody smell.

Inside the RV, Lynn could see his figure in the distance through the observation window of the blast door.

The light flickered on the retina.

The Demon Worldline Convergence System has been activated.

[Demon identified: Ignacio Reyes]

[Race: Tescatlipoca]

[In Aztec mythology, he is the ruler of night and wind, the god of war who lurks in the shadows. Cold and rational, he is bound by the chains of fate to a bloody throne, weary of killing yet compelled to wield the sword.]

(Ignacio: "Those lunatics will drag the whole family into hell sooner or later. I need to find someone who can silently deal with the trouble, even if the price is my soul—")

[You can choose from the following world lines]

[A: Utilizing the semi-public information about treating Tuco's grandmother, and leveraging Tuco's prestige, establish yourself as an irreplaceable third-party bargaining chip in the gang war amidst the infighting between the two factions. (Reward: "Battlefield Triage and Coordination - Advanced")]

[B: Pushes open the blast door, rushes out, slides to his knees in front of Ignacio, shouts "Sir, please come in! Arjun's goods are all in the container's hidden compartment," and proactively hands over the car keys. (Reward: A green Mexican wide-brimmed sombrero)]

[C: Secretly record Ignacio's micro-expressions and gait characteristics, establish a medical psychological file, and find his psychological weaknesses stemming from his family's influence, laying the groundwork for future defection. (Reward: "Micro-expression Behavioral Analysis - Advanced")]

Ignacio stopped five steps away from Arjun.

"You've got guts, Mr. Arjun."

His English had a slight accent, but it was much better than Tuco's.

Arjun lowered his arms and slowly smoothed out the wrinkles on his coat with both hands.

"Your men have filthed my docks, Ignacio."

Ignacio glanced at the corpse on the ground, his gaze lingering for half a second on the firing point on top of the container, assessing Arjun's defensive strength.

"You know perfectly well why you're still able to stand here and breathe."

Ignacio's voice was flat and even. "The bosses in the south respect the logistics network behind you," and so does the big shot up there.

"Similarly, I hope you will also show the Reyes family the corresponding respect."

He took half a step forward, and the sense of oppression increased sharply.

"Clipping a few feathers is perfectly within the bounds of business. The Reyes family's dignity cannot be trampled upon by any outsider."

"Your spice carts are absolutely not allowed to enter or leave Tuco's territory at will."

Arjun looked at him expressionlessly.

"You will be notified of the specific negotiation time later."

Ignacio turned around and waved to Arjun with his back to him: "Clean up your trash. Today, it's just a simple greeting."

"If there's a next time, it won't be that simple."

The ragtag army retreated quickly but haphazardly in their vehicles, leaving behind several mangled corpses.

Arjun's masked face showed a slight ripple only after the red taillights disappeared into the distance.

He raised his right hand and took off the silk scarf from his neck.

A drop of blood, splattered on the edge of the scarf, was visible.

Arjun stared at the drop of blood for a second, then released her fingers.

A silk scarf fluttered down onto the muddy and bloodstained cement ground.

Obsessive-compulsive disorder and a desire for control transformed into cold anger at this moment.

With the crisis averted, Lynn turned and walked back to the operating table.

The Tamil man with a ruptured femoral artery had already been carried in.

Earlier, the bearded man pointed a gun at Lynn's head, but Lynn's movements were not affected in any way.

As long as he lies on his operating table, Lynn will do her best to cure him.

"Loosen the tourniquet and prepare the clamps," Lynn instructed.

Cassie quickly cooperated.

Lynn cut open the fascia of the thigh and quickly freed both ends of the damaged femoral artery.

He used 6-0 polypropylene sutures and performed extremely fine continuous suturing under a shadowless lamp.

Ten minutes later, the blood vessels were cleared and the distal dorsalis pedis artery resumed pulsation.

"Bandage and administer antibiotics."

Lynn took off his blood-stained dentures and threw them into the medical waste bin.

"Cassie, put ceftriaxone and metronidazole on these two, and adjust the IV drip rate to 100 ml per hour."

"The patient with the abdominal puncture must be strictly prohibited from eating and drinking, and the gastrointestinal decompression tube must be left in place for at least 48 hours, with the color of the drainage fluid recorded every two hours."

Lynn quickly gave the postoperative medical instructions.

Outside the container, Arjun stood beside the body marked with a black tag.

The bearded man knelt on the ground, sobbing uncontrollably.

Arjun knelt down, extended his right hand, and gently closed the unseeing eyes of the deceased.

He dipped his thumb into a smear of blood from the deceased's wound and solemnly drew a red Tirak mark on the deceased's forehead.

The movements were solemn.

After doing all this, Arjun stood up and looked down at the bearded man.

"His family will receive the full compensation."

Arjun's voice returned to its usual meticulousness: "I will support his two sons through college until they get their degrees."

"This is my promise."

The bearded man stopped crying and kowtowed heavily.

Lynn stepped out of the RV, wiping her hands with sterile wipes as she walked toward Arjun.

"My work is over. Those who are alive can continue to live."

Arjun turned her head and looked at the young doctor who remained as steady as a mountain amidst the hail of bullets.

He completed the accounting in an instant.

"Basic standby fee is $25,000. One case of suprametrial artery repair and foreign body removal is extremely difficult, so I'll charge you $18,000. One case of femoral artery anastomosis is $8,000. Plus a few minor injury treatments—"

Arjun announced the final figure: "A total of fifty-three thousand US dollars. After deducting the previously agreed-upon eight thousand dollars for the B4-level bulletproof glass modification, I'll have someone bring you forty-five thousand dollars in cash later."

Lynn was very satisfied with the figure, as it perfectly matched the peak of the underground medical market in New York.

"Leave the bulletproof glass to me. We have modification experts here, so let's waive the modification fee."

"Okay, I'll give you 46,000 in a bit." Ah-Jung nodded.

Lynn pressed his advantage, adding a new requirement: "Also, I need some good guns."

Even with Sachs' M45A1 and his own Glock, the combined firepower was still too weak.

He felt so insecure because of his frail appearance.

Arjun narrowed his eyes slightly.

"I must make my team capable of protecting themselves as soon as possible."

Lynn emphasized, "I will never allow my operating table to be exposed to someone's gun again without sufficient means of self-defense."

Arjun looked at Lynn.

He saw something strikingly similar to himself in those eyes.

Cold-blooded, rational, and with an extreme desire to control the situation.

"There's an old-school gun shop in Brooklyn."

Arjun nodded. "I'll talk to the boss. Whether you need a legal self-defense weapon with a gun license, or a 'ghost gun' that doesn't require any background check, he can get it. The prerequisite is that you bring enough cash."

"make a deal."

Two of Arjun's men came over carrying a heavy black canvas bag and handed it to Sachi.

Lynn turned and walked back to the RV.

"withdraw."

The wounded were placed in box number three.

Sachi got into the driver's seat and started the engine.

Kashi secured all the medical equipment and medicines in the back compartment.

Cassie and Sachi had carefully wiped the bloodstains off the car.

The RV slowly drove out of the messy dock and disappeared into the dawn.

Six o'clock in the morning, in a dilapidated apartment.

The bathroom was filled with steam, and the showerhead sprayed out scalding hot water.

Lynn stood under the water curtain, her hands braced against the cold, tiled wall.

The water washed over his hair, shoulders, and back.

The dark red bloodstains remaining under the fingernails dissolved in the hot water and slowly flowed down the firm muscle lines.

The clear water pooled at my ankles, turning a glaring pale red.

The blood swirled, accompanied by the muffled swallowing sound of the sewer, before disappearing completely into the depths of the metal drain.

Lynn closed her eyes and took a deep breath of the humid air, which was mixed with the scent of shower gel and a faint smell of blood.

He pushed open the bathroom door as if opening the entrance to New York's underground world.

Lying in bed, I brought up the system panel that I hadn't seen in a long time.

Name: Lynn.

Assets: $56850

[Skills Already Granted:]

[Combat: "Pistol Mastery - Advanced"]

[Summary: "Adrenaline Rush - Intermediate" "Deep Sleep - Beginner"]

[Medical: "Foreign Body Removal Without Anesthesia - Advanced", "Simple Interrupted Suturing - Master Level", "Coolly Vascular Clamping - Master Level", "Fingertip Blunt Dissection - Master Level", "Laparoscopic Cholecystectomy - Advanced"]

[Remaining skill points: 1]

Lynn closed the system panel and his gaze fell on the black canvas bag on the bedside table.

The zipper was open, and stacks of hundred-dollar bills bound tightly with brown paper lay quietly inside.

This was the bargaining chip he earned by cutting through flesh and stitching up blood vessels amidst a hail of bullets.

He reached out and pulled out a thick stack of Franklin notes, bringing them to his nose.

The distinctive scent of linen fibers and anti-counterfeiting ink on US banknotes still carries a faint smell of blood from Hunter Point Pier.

The flashing skill entries on the panel, along with the heavy bag of cash, formed the foundation for his survival in New York.

He finally grasped a real sense of security on the verge of losing control.

The image of Ah-Jung's tight crossfire network and the drug traffickers' fearless suicidal charges from last night is still playing on repeat in my mind.

3 p.m., Brooklyn, Red Hook District.

The salty sea breeze swirled up old newspapers on the street, brushing past the red brick walls covered in gang graffiti.

Lynn and Satchel walked through the dilapidated neighborhood.

The address Arjun gave pointed to an inconspicuous shop at the end of the street.

There was no signboard at the entrance, only a heavy security iron door that had been blackened by wind and rain.

The shop window was completely sealed from the inside with thick bulletproof steel plates, and the outer layer was welded with riot control bars as thick as a thumb.

The only proof that this place is still open is a faded NRA sticker on the upper right corner of the iron gate.

There was also a Gadsden flag with a rattlesnake and the words "Don't mess with me" printed on it.

This location avoids the ubiquitous surveillance cameras in Manhattan and is far from the NYPD's regular patrol routes.

A typical old-school black market arms dealer.

Lynn stopped in front of the door.

Above the security door, a miniature camera with infrared night vision was staring at his face.

Lynn raised his right hand, his fingers resting on the cold, heavy brass doorknob.

With a low, mechanical clicking sound from the internal electronic lock, he pressed down hard.

The ending of yesterday's gunfight chapter was indeed poorly written. I revised it before going to bed at midnight. If you're interested, you can go back and take a look (these words are free).

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