Evolution 2030: Studying Medicine Won't Save Americans

Guided by his medical assistant, Chen Yisen quickly found his first patient since his rebirth in the crowd.

A woman who, despite being in a shelter, still insists on wearing a business suit.

The clothes on her upper body were clearly brand-name, but they were wrinkled and had a tear at the back of the collar.

The pants, on the other hand, were clearly mismatched; they looked like cheap knock-offs picked up from a street stall.

She was wearing a pair of sneakers that were starting to come unglued.

Only his hair was meticulously styled.

Clearly, they hadn't suffered any losses in the shelter.

Chen Yisen returned the tablet displaying the medical records to his assistant, sat down opposite Amber Zheng, and began the consultation as usual:

"Hello Ms. Zheng, I'm the visiting doctor today. Are you feeling unwell, or do you need any assistance?"

The information indicated that the person was 27 years old, but looked well into their early thirties, exhibiting natural, non-cosmetic, squinty-eyed features.

There are forty muscles on the human face responsible for displaying facial expressions. The strong areas of facial muscles are completely different between a person who is always proud and a person who is always sullen.

Especially a fake smile, this action only engages the cheekbone muscles and hardly involves the orbicularis oculi muscle.

Therefore, a person who frequently fakes a smile will have prominent cheekbones but thin skin around the eyes, and their facial proportions will not resemble those of a normal human, making them look very strange.

The Asian face is the kind that fits the stereotypical image of a white person very well.

"I……"

Amber Zheng had already started to speak, but when she saw half of Chen Yisen's face visible above his mask, her fake smile froze for a moment and then disappeared.

"Wait...you're Chinese?"

One sentence was enough to energize Chen Yisen.

The question, the tone.

So classic!

But he couldn't and didn't need to get angry with the patient, so he simply nodded and raised his voice slightly:

"Yes, is there anything that's bothering you?"

Then, without rushing, he leaned back in his chair and quietly waited for the other person to perform.

Sure enough, Amber Zheng seemed to be provoked, jumping up from her seat and screaming, "No, I refuse to let the Chinese treat me! They'll use Eastern witchcraft to control me!"

"..."

Although I had a feeling that Gao Hua was going to be extraordinary, this was just too extraordinary.

Chen Yisen went through all the worries that had accumulated over nearly sixty years across his two lifetimes, and finally managed to keep himself from bursting out laughing.

They've already made it to the shelter and they're still being picky. They're like an experienced driver using GPS—they've lost sight of their own location.

And because Amber Zheng's voice was very loud, almost shouting, the people around her also cast pitying or disapproving glances at her.

Especially Chen Yisen's assistant, who looked down at the medical record, then looked up at the hysterical woman opposite him, with a confused expression on his face as if to say, "Aren't you Chinese too?"

Such a reaction clearly stung the other person's fragile heart.

“I’m not like him!” Amber Zheng said, rolling up her sleeves to show the crowd her slightly tanned arms. “I regularly receive white blood!”

Chen Yisen finally couldn't help but roll his eyes.

This kind of low-level convert fanaticism would be disgusting even to white people, let alone the fact that most of the residents in the Bronx are minorities.

Doctors and nurses are constrained by their profession and can't say anything, but other patients waiting to see a doctor won't tolerate her.

"If you have nothing to do, get lost! Don't waste everyone's time!" A gruff voice came from a nearby corner. "Why don't you go to a private hospital if you have so many problems?"

Another female voice chimed in sarcastically, "She's already living in a shelter, how could she afford a private hospital?"

Amber Zheng's eyes widened, and she said angrily, "I don't live in a shelter!"

"What do you mean you're not staying here? I saw you washing your hair in the public restroom last night, and you were beaten by the manager for exceeding the time limit." The woman from before continued to argue.

Caught off guard, Amber Zheng's face flushed red, veins bulging on her forehead, as she protested, "I just... took a short rest for one night!"

"Yes, just taking a temporary break, me too," a nearby Black man scoffed. "Eight hours a day, I've been here for months."

The surrounding crowd finally couldn't help but burst into laughter.

In a shelter, everyone knows each other, right?

If there were even the slightest way, they wouldn't have moved in.

If you insist on showing off, then you can't blame others for undermining you.

However, some kind-hearted people gave her advice: "Why don't you become a human development assistant? I heard it comes with medical care."

Chen Yisen thought for a moment, but couldn't find what this so-called "Human Development Assistant" was in his memory.

However, judging from the reactions of people nearby, it doesn't seem like a legitimate job.

Amber Zheng was completely red-faced, pointing at the black man closest to her and the only one whose location she could pinpoint: "Fxxk! You bunch of idiots! My incentive stock options in the Nasdaq biotech sector increased 20 times, and I only sold my property because I had to pay the alternative minimum tax! Do you know what incentive stock options are? Do you know what the alternative minimum tax is?"

She has completely lost her mind.

Regardless of whether these claims are true or false, even if they are true, publicly boasting about one's stock gains in a chaotic place like a shelter is tantamount to having a death wish.

After Amber Zheng caused such a ruckus, the police in the distance finally couldn't stand it anymore and prepared to come and take charge.

But before that, another voice rang out from behind, answering her question.

"Of course I know."

The speaker was a middle-aged Asian man.

"You might have been an early employee of a unicorn company, where you were allowed to buy shares at a very low exercise price after the IPO as a perk... These shares have lock-up periods, meaning you can only cash out after six months, a year, or even two years. But as soon as you choose to exercise your options, even if you haven't sold a single share, the IRS will count the price difference as your income and make you pay taxes. If you can't pay, you'll have to sell your house, but you still can't sell the shares..."

Amber Zheng was shocked to find that someone actually knew the ins and outs of the situation, and looked at the other person with a look of astonishment.

"Is that strange?" The man shrugged. "Five years ago, during the AI ​​boom, I was employee number 26 at an AI startup. At my peak, I had $7500 million in stock options, but the company went bankrupt and went into liquidation before the lock-up period ended, and I didn't even get a pile of dog shit left..."

"Now, ma'am, if you don't have anything else to do, please don't delay the rest of us from seeing the doctor."

Seeing that the speaker was also Asian, Amber Zheng scoffed dismissively, but seeing the police and a security guard approaching, she didn't dare to continue shouting. She just muttered under her breath, "Who knows what kind of shady company you are? My stock is from Bio-Innovation..."

Chen Yisen's assistant decided to end this farce: "Ms. Zheng, I can change your appointment with a different doctor, but it will require a new lottery, so it might be a little later."

Amber Zheng's expression finally improved. After looking around, she pointed to the only white attending physician in her field of vision: "That female doctor will do."

"Okay, Dr. Natalia Lynch..." The assistant nodded expressionlessly, "That's all, please wait over there."

After saying that, he refreshed the system, preparing to find the second patient here.

Seeing this, Chen Yisen also ended his pleasant time of slacking off and got up to prepare for work.

"Number 102, Robben Emerson, he's over here, please follow me..."

The assistant walked up to the person, but then stopped talking abruptly.

Mr. Emerson was leaning against a pillar, wearing only an oversized, so dirty that the color was unrecognizable.

The exposed backs of his hands, thighs, and face were all ulcerated, and upon closer inspection, one could even see some wriggling white spots at the wounds.

Those were maggots struggling to wriggle their bodies, trying to crawl out.

"He's dead."

In a proper hospital, declaring someone dead is certainly a very serious matter.

A signature from a qualified attending physician is required for confirmation.

But here, an assistant simply reached out and felt the carotid artery, and that's how the diagnosis was made.

No one even cared about the specific cause of his death.

The staff at the shelter were already used to it; they simply called security guards, put the person in a body bag, and carried them away.

Chen Yisen also took the opportunity to close his eyes and try to communicate with the corpse with his mind, but unfortunately he could not activate his ability like Joey and the two black men.

So he didn't interfere any further and signaled to his assistant to prepare to draw the next number.

"The third one is number 79, Eva Akkinson."

Chen Yisen was quite lucky; the first three patients to get a number were all in this area, so he didn't have to carry his suitcase around.

So he simply sat back down in the same spot he had started in, and looked down to open the electronic medical record to check the basic information.

Soon, a figure with shoulder-length blond hair, a tall and slender build, a curvaceous figure, and muscular build like a man appeared before them.

Although dressed quite simply, his mental state didn't suggest he was a resident of the shelter; he was probably just there to get a free medical appointment.

"Hello, Akkinson..." Chen Yisen greeted as he looked up.

However, the moment he saw the other person's face, his brain almost overloaded and crashed—

The other person is not "muscular like a man" at all.

He's just a man.

Although she dressed as a woman and had a female body, her stubble and Adam's apple betrayed her true gender.

In the United States, especially in New York where the Democratic Party holds a dominant position.

The way these kinds of people are addressed is a red line that absolutely cannot be crossed...