Conan: What alias? That's my struggle!

Lin Ye gave a wry smile.

He changed the radio station.

The weather forecast was switched to a pretty announcer who said Tokyo would be cloudy turning sunny tomorrow, with a 20% chance of precipitation. This didn't really affect Lin Ye.

"It's noisy."

Lin Ye wasn't in the mood, so he turned off the radio. In an instant, the car fell silent, save for the low rumble of the engine and the screech of tires on the pavement.

The Tokyo night view outside the car window was like a flowing painting, with neon lights, streetlights, and car lights of various colors flashing on his face.

Until I got home.

Lin Ye cleaned up the traces on the car, but his heart was still unsettled. Gin is a main character, Conan's number one adversary, and the core villain designated by the world's will.

If someone like that were hit and killed by him, nobody knows what the consequences would be. Lin Ye doesn't even want to be a textile worker, let alone a substitute for Gin.

"It's okay, it's okay, it's not a big problem."

Lin Ye was frantically trying to comfort herself.

Tokyo has a high level of medical care, and given that murders, bombings, and various accidents happen every day in the world, the doctors should be very experienced.

A mere broken rib should be as simple as eating and drinking for doctors in Tokyo. Gin will be fine; he'll survive, continue being his cold-blooded killer, and continue his battle of wits with Conan. The world's will won't bother him; he doesn't need to be anyone's substitute.

"Yes! That's it!" Lin Ye put his backpack in the entryway, changed his shoes, and walked into the living room. He didn't turn on the lights, but used the light from the streetlight streaming in through the window to walk to the sofa and sink into it. The sofa was soft, and his body sank in under the influence of gravity.

It felt like I was being hugged by something.

Just then, my phone rang.

The ringing was abrupt, like a pebble thrown into a calm lake in the quiet living room.

"Hiss, thank goodness it wasn't seven kids, the boss didn't find out about me!" Lin Ye opened his eyes, took out his phone from his pocket, and glanced at the screen—Beihu Hospital.

At that moment, Lin Ye was stunned.

Beihu Hospital?

He subconsciously wondered why this hospital would call him when he was a time traveler who didn't know anyone at Beihu Hospital.

"What's going on?"

Lin Ye pressed the answer button and held the phone to her ear.

"Dr. Hashimoto!"

The voice on the other end of the phone was that of a young woman, filled with obvious panic and urgency. "Something terrible has happened! A patient has just been brought in, severely injured, with multiple fractures in his right ribs and signs of internal bleeding. The other doctors are all hesitant to operate, saying the surgery is too risky. You need to come to the hospital immediately!"

This moment.

Lin Ye held his phone without saying a word.

He suddenly realized what was happening.

Dr. Hashimoto. He is Dr. Hashimoto. He is Hashimoto Rinyo, and the person in this body is a thoracic surgeon, the best thoracic surgeon in the area. The nurses at Beika Hospital called him because he is an expert in this field, because only he can perform this surgery!

The patient who underwent that surgery was most likely Gin!

"No way, what the hell is going on?!" Lin Ye slowly took the phone away from his ear, speechless as he looked at the "Calling" message on the screen.

He had just fled the accident scene, removed the license plate, and cleaned up the traces, thinking that the matter was over.

He thought Gin would be taken to the hospital, treated by a group of doctors who didn't know him, and then wake up. However, it turned out that he was the only doctor who could save Gin.

"Uh..." Lin Ye put the phone back to his ear and heard the nurse still anxiously calling "Dr. Hashimoto, Dr. Hashimoto" on the other end.

He opened his mouth.

I want to say he's not Dr. Hashimoto, that you've got the wrong person, that he's never even held a scalpel.

That makes sense. The first aid knowledge he learned in the training space was limited to battlefield bandaging and hemostasis; he had never even seen advanced procedures like thoracic surgery.

however.

How could I possibly say something that would reveal my identity like that?

"Wait for me a moment."

Lin Ye hung up the phone and stood in the entryway for a full half minute.

"Why!"

Ultimately, Lin Ye had no choice but to be forced into a corner and try to persuade a few skilled doctors at the hospital to perform the surgery in his place.

He changed cars. Not the one that hit Gin, but a white sedan parked in the corner of the garage—his predecessor, one he'd almost forgotten existed. The key was in a drawer in the entryway, mixed in with a bunch of odds and ends; he searched for ages before finally finding it.

Beihu Hospital is not far from the apartment, less than a ten-minute drive.

Lin Ye parked his car at the entrance of the emergency room, and a nurse immediately came up to him, pushing a wheelchair with a worried expression. She wasn't telling him to sit down, but to hurry up and leave.

"Dr. Hashimoto, the patient has been taken to the operating room. His vital signs are unstable, and his blood pressure is dropping." The nurse practically dragged Lin Ye, who was still searching for a replacement, along as they rushed off.

In this race against time, Lin Ye was led through the corridor in a daze, changing his shoes, clothes, and disinfecting. As he rinsed his hands under the running water, watching the white foam slip through his fingers, only one thought crossed his mind—I'm doomed, I've never even held a scalpel before.

To be fair, the training center taught him first aid, bandaging, and how to pull wounded soldiers back from the brink of death on the battlefield.

But that was under the condition of no operating room, no anesthesiologist, no nurses, and no instruments flashing various data.

Those skills, and the thoracic surgery before him, were separated by an insurmountable chasm.

"My assistant might be very strong too! He might be able to replicate the original's actions on his own; his skills are excellent, but he's been unable to rise to prominence because of the original's limitations!"

Lin Ye could only pin his hopes on this very scientific guess. He no longer cared whether such an assistant would murder him; he only hoped that Gin wouldn't die at his hands a second time.

Disinfection complete. The nurse opened the operating room door.

The light from the operating room lamp was blindingly white, and a person was lying on the operating table.

As expected, it's Gin.

His long, silvery-white hair had been cut short, cascading down either side of the operating table like a patch of melting snow. Various tubes extended from his body, connecting to instruments that emitted regular beeps. The electrocardiogram waveform pulsed, and the blood pressure numbers flashed.

The ventilator's airbags are rhythmically contracting and expanding.

"Beep beep beep~"

Gin had his eyes closed, his face as pale as a sheet of paper.

The anesthesiologist stood in front of the equipment, holding a whiteboard. The scrub nurse was organizing the surgical instruments, the clanging of metal instruments crisp and cold.

Two assistant doctors were already in place, wearing green surgical gowns and masks, with only their eyes showing as they awaited instructions.

All eyes were on Lin Ye. Dr. Hashimoto, the best thoracic surgeon at Beika Hospital, an expert in this field.

With his arrival, the surgery can begin.

"Ugh, but all I have in my head is tutorials and skills on how to circumcise a purse!" The only person who lacks confidence is probably the veteran circumcision expert, Lin Ye himself.