The Creators: From Night City

After a while, the innkeeper came down the stairs with the sound of footsteps on the wooden stairs.

"Congratulations, you're accepted, Margaret."

As Margaret walked out of the hotel, Hal's words kept echoing in her head.

I felt dizzy and as if I was in the clouds.

Not only because he was successfully accepted, but also because the employer offered him a weekly salary of $25.

You know, in the West, a skilled cowboy earned less than $15 a week, which was undoubtedly a very high salary.

With this income, the young widow believed that she would be able to pay off the high-interest loans she owed soon and get her desperate life back on track.

Filled with joy and anxiety, Margaret spent a sleepless night, and early the next morning she carried her luggage to the hotel to start work.

When she entered the role with great anticipation, the employer's first question left her a little confused.

Jiang Bing: "Margaret, which family owns the largest tobacco plantation around here?"

Although the newly-made maid was completely confused, she still thought carefully before answering, "Dear sir, as far as I know, Scarlett Meadows in the south has the largest tobacco plantation in the area. These plantations are private property of the Grey family."

"The Gray family owns hundreds of hectares of fertile land, all planted with fire-cured tobacco. Before I got married, I applied for a job as a tobacco dryer there. They provided room and board, plus a $10 weekly salary. I could even hide some tobacco. Rhodes was also very prosperous, and the workplace was close to Saint Denis. On weekends, I could just take a half-hour carriage ride into town."

When talking about the job-applying trip, the other party was obviously nostalgic and was very excited to talk, but then he lowered his head.

"It's a pity that I wasn't chosen."

The maid sighed in frustration.

Jiang Bing nodded and returned to the table.

Margaret felt very uncomfortable on her first day as a maid.

Chapter 195: Now, this is called professionalism.

Originally, she thought the job would be very tiring, after all, the employer offered a high price of $25.

But the fact is just the opposite.

She was doing nothing most of the time.

Her employer, the oriental man who looked very noble, only asked her to go to the store to buy a map, and spent the rest of the time staying in the room making gestures or studying the book in front of him.

There were no frequent guests visiting and no need to do laundry or cook, so for most of the day, the maid only did chores like serving tea and water.

This is the result of her looking for trouble.

With a weekly salary of $25, she felt particularly uneasy.

Just as Margaret was curled up on the soft and large sofa at the door and was dozing off, a burst of sounds of horses neighing, men screaming and the crowd shouting suddenly came in from outside the window.

The noisy sound startled both people in the house. The maid, who had been unable to contain her temper for a long time, ran downstairs like a foal that had escaped from a cage and was finally free, and rushed into the bustling crowd at the signal of her employer.

Soon, the returning maid brought the truth about the riot.

Brown Eugene, the owner of Emerald Ranch, recently recruited several new cowboys to look after his growing herd of livestock. One of them was a novice cowboy named Harald, who was kicked left by a violent brown leopard-spotted Appaloosa while training the horse.

There's a saying in traditional martial arts circles: "I'd rather take ten punches than one elbow, and I'd rather take ten elbows than one kick."

What's more, this is not an ordinary straight kick.

The weight of an adult Appaloosa horse ranges from 430 to 570 kilograms. The explosive power of its hind hooves is at most 600 to 700 kilograms, and at least 200 to 300 kilograms.

If someone was hit hard by this kick, in the West where there was a shortage of medical care, it was basically like taking a one-way bus to heaven.

"The poor guy's chest was kicked in. It looks like he's not going to make it."

Margaret returned excitedly and calmly announced the unlucky guy's death sentence.

In the West, death is a common thing for the residents here.

Diseases represented by tuberculosis and malaria; accidents such as accidental discharge of guns, trampling of cattle and horses, accidental ingestion of poisons, mine collapses, etc.; man-made disasters caused by Indians, gangs, cannibals, perverted murderers, and capitalists; natural disasters represented by venomous snakes, wild beasts, and extreme weather, etc., are the causes of death everywhere.

It was very difficult for ordinary people to live in the West, but it was very easy to die in the West.

Every year, no less than five digits of people die due to the above reasons, and death is a common occurrence here.

Jiang Bing himself is a person who likes to join in the fun, not to mention that he is in the American West with a strong cultural filter.

Led by Margaret, he went downstairs and stood beside the crowd, looking at the situation inside the circle.

An old Mediterranean cowboy was half-kneeling beside the victim, at a loss, panicking and helplessly calling out the injured person's name.

"Just shoot him, Ger. This kind of injury can't be cured. Rather than continue like this, it's better to end his suffering early."

Someone in the crowd shouted at the old cowboy.

"Poor Harald, what will happen to his mother if he dies."

"He just loves to show off. He's just starting out as a cowboy, and he has to show off."

"Why not give him some whiskey? It might help alleviate the pain a little."

"Ger won't be able to explain this to his sister."

The crowd was buzzing with excitement, and all sorts of suggestions were flowing freely.

The victim lay straight on the muddy yellow ground, bleeding from his mouth and nose, and looked uneasy.

He was thin and not very old, with a light layer of fuzz on his chin. He had short blond hair and a freckled face full of pain. His eyes were closed and he was unconscious.

The collapsed sternum pressed on his chest cavity, making it difficult for him to breathe. His breathing was as heavy as an old-fashioned bellows, making a wheezing sound.

The feeling of suffocation drove him to breathe hard, but the atmospheric pressure made him only breathe in but not out.

Therefore, the chest supported by a large amount of gas will undoubtedly affect the injury and bring more prolonged pain.

Typical acute pneumothorax caused by external force.

This is a common symptom caused by excessive fighting, and Jiang Bing can tell it at a glance.

Acute pneumothorax is a common surgical injury in modern times and is not difficult to treat. However, at the end of the 19th century, this young man could only gradually fall into the arms of death.

Jiang Bing took a few glances, then reached out and easily pushed through the crowd. Under the gaze of the onlookers, he squatted in front of the injured person.

While the old cowboy was looking dazed, he gently touched the chest of the unlucky guy on the ground and hooked his finger at the old cowboy.

"Give me the knife?"

The flustered old cowboy didn't understand Jiang Bing's intention for a moment, and could not help but stand there in a daze.

Jiang Bing had no choice but to repeat it again.

"If you don't want him to die now, give me your knife right now."

This time, he finally understood what Jiang Bing meant, and his lifeless eyes suddenly became lively.

The old cowboy quickly examined Jiang Bing - his exquisite appearance and calm and well-organized speech gave him some confidence. His rare yellow race identity subtracted two points, but he still quickly judged that the other party was not some crazy bastard.

Then, the old cowboy quickly delivered a sharp Buck 110 folding hunting knife to Jiang Bing.

The buttons of Harald's linen shirt were undone one by one, revealing his uneven, bloody chest to the air.

Jiang Bing pulled out the blade and frowned at the stains on it.

So he spread his hands to the bald old cowboy again.

"matches."

At that time, there were almost no cowboys in the West who did not smoke. At the same time, matches were used as fire starters and were necessary tools for survival in the wild, so the other party naturally had some.

After the flame licked the hunting knife, Jiang Bing, in front of everyone's horrified eyes, held the hunting knife in reverse, without even looking, and stabbed the knife into the other person's chest.

The knife was stabbed with great force and decisiveness. The old cowboy had no time to react at all before the blade had already penetrated the victim's chest.

This act, which was tantamount to murder, almost made the old cowboy jump up, and the crowd was suddenly in an uproar.

But before the onlookers could start to condemn him, Jiang Bing pulled out the knife swiftly. Then, a stream of air mixed with blood foam gushed out from the blade. Harald's face visibly changed from purple due to lack of oxygen and suffocation to pale due to severe damage to his vitality.

And his breathing, which was only in and not out, returned to its normal rhythm.

"Your life is saved for now." Jiang Bing stood up and returned the knife to the old cowboy.

"To cure him, he needs surgery to remove the broken bones in his chest and correct the dislocated bones."

Jiang Bing called the maid from the crowd and gestured to the old cowboy.

"Find two people to carry him to my place. Remember to make a simple stretcher and let him lie as flat as possible without any bumps."

Under the worshipful gazes of the crowd, Doctor Jiang strolled leisurely back to his residence.

Chapter 196 Angels and Demons Coexist

Surgery has already matured in the United States, but it only exists in bustling big cities such as New York and San Francisco.

In this wild land of the West, in this era when the medical qualification system has not yet been established, doctors who have undergone systematic training and possess professional knowledge are as rare as phoenix feathers and unicorn horns. Most of the doctors that the lower-class people can come into contact with are quacks who sell homemade counterfeit drugs under the pretext of treating diseases, roaming around, defrauding people of their money and killing them.

Normal open-chest surgery requires a sterile environment, professional tools, sufficient lighting, full disinfection, and collaboration among multiple people. Postoperatively, one needs to be wary of wound infection, but these requirements do not apply at all at this moment.

Jiang Bing can perform the operation alone. Even if he doesn't have a scalpel, a cane blade will do.

As a weapon forged by Jiang Binglian, its sharpness is unquestionable.

As for possible infection.

Let’s put it this way, only living people are qualified to talk about infection.

There was no need for a thoracotomy. Jiang Bing, relying on his many years of experience in chopping people, accurately scraped open the opponent's skin, picked out the broken bones, and corrected the broken and dislocated bones.

After confirming that everyone was staying outside the house, he began to clumsily mobilize the thin chaotic magic in the space.

In this age without antibiotics, the medicines purchased by Jiang Bing were all stored in the "warehouse". Without some "unconventional" measures, the young man would most likely die from subsequent complications or infections.

The mages in The Witcher's world materialize the water element of Chaos magic, endowing it with healing and healing abilities. However, this doesn't mean the other three elements are useless in healing. According to the basic introduction to healing spells provided by Vereta, earth is used to represent bones, fire to represent flesh and blood, and air to represent circulation. Most of the time, all four elements are required to rotate and cooperate...

The healing process is the process of matching and combining elements with each other. Moreover, knowing only this is far from enough. A highly skilled healing mage must also be very proficient in human anatomy.

This is simply science from another dimension.

Under Jiang Bing's micro-manipulation, countless chaotic magic powers rapidly boiled and transformed, filling the damaged flesh and blood of the wounded, repairing most of the broken bones, leaving only a new scar to conceal the truth, and a small number of non-fatal injuries.

Although the unfortunate Harald would probably have to stay in bed for a month or two, or the wound might develop a mild suppurative infection, this was far better than dying directly.

At least this life is basically saved.

When he opened the door, the old cowboy was so happy that he cried with joy at the news that his nephew was out of danger that he almost collapsed to the ground. Doctor Jiang left without saying a word after finishing his work, keeping his achievements and fame to himself.

But the subsequent impact of this incident was no different from dropping an atomic bomb on Emerald Ranch and its surrounding areas.

In most cases, gossip and public opinion spread faster than the speed of light. Before nightfall, the news that a mysterious Oriental man with superb medical skills had arrived at Emerald Ranch had spread rapidly throughout the Emerald Ranch and its surrounding areas.

This directly resulted in Jiang Bing receiving an invitation from Eugene Weigen, the owner of the Zuodihu Ranch, before it got dark.

As the owner of Emerald Ranch, Eugene Weiger can be called a local tyrant in this small piece of land.

He lived in the tallest building on the ranch - a small brick and stone building with red exterior walls. The exterior was decorated magnificently with carved beams and painted rafters, and was very imposing.

He also has a dozen experienced and loyal cowboys under his command.

None of these backbone forces in the West can use a gun. They are also considered to be Eugene Weiger's private armed forces and the stability maintenance force of Emerald Ranch.

Jiang Bing was reluctant to keep the appointment at first, but after learning from the maid that Master Eugene was the richest man in the area, he quickly changed his mind.

After nightfall, led by a cowboy who tried hard to appear elegant, Jiang Bing and Margaret stepped into the brightly lit house and into the political, economic and power center of Emerald Ranch.

Eugene Weiger is a well-proportioned, slightly balding middle-aged man. He wears a pair of gold-rimmed glasses and looks gentle and refined, more like a lawyer than a landowner.

It was obvious that he attached great importance to this meeting. Before the guests arrived, he was already waiting at the door to greet them, surrounded by several younger brothers who looked more like gunmen than cowboys.

Every gesture and movement exudes the authentic British style.

Jiang Bing had no intention of exploring the secrets behind others, nor did he intend to engage in long and useless politeness. Anyway, the following conversation would soon determine whether Jiang Bing would kill the rich to help the poor, or rob the rich to help the poor.

"Mr. Sabul is a Qing national?"

Jiang Bing denied it without hesitation.

At this time, the Qing government was still ruled by Emperor Guangxu, who was probably tinkering with the famous Hundred Days' Reform.

"Mr. Eugene, I think we can skip the complicated formalities and get straight to the point."

"Mr. Sabul is really quick to speak, that's great." The rancher took over the topic smoothly.

"I've heard of Mr. Sabul's medical skills before. I asked you to come here because I hope you can diagnose my daughter."