"I was also quite surprised." Zhou Qingfeng shrugged, "Originally, I was just transporting dical waste, changing oxygen tanks for the critical care area, taking corpses to the morgue, helping nurses reduce so workload."
"Professor Hart, who is in charge of managing this underground hospital, suddenly called into his office." Zhou Qingfeng mimicked the old professor adjusting his glasses,
"He stared into my eyes and asked, ’Young man, are you actually a PhD studying infectious diseases at Johns Hopkins University?’
Shanni was utterly confused by this question, "Johns Hopkins University?"
"I’m an honest person, so of course I said no." Zhou Qingfeng continued, "But the professor wouldn’t give up.
He then asked if I graduated from Harvard dical School and if I knew the Nobel laureate Cornell.
How would I know Cornell? Of course, I still shook my head. Even then the professor didn’t stop asking, and eventually, I got really fed up with the questions."
Zhou Qingfeng lowered his voice, leaned close to Shanni’s ear, "I said, ’Professor, which school do you think I should have graduated from?’"
Shanni was already dumbfounded.
"In the end, the professor suddenly slapped the table and stood up," Zhou Qingfeng suddenly raised his volu to mimic, "’I knew it! You’re a top student from UC Berkeley!’
Shanni almost had her brain crash, staring intently at the man’s eyes: "So which university did you actually graduate from?"
"Shh—" Zhou Qingfeng put a finger to his mask, "To be honest, I didn’t even graduate from high school."
Shanni gasped, the two of them stared at each other through the masks, wide-eyed.
At this mont, Professor Hart was walking toward them, holding a stack of dical records labeled "Critical Priority."
-----------------
"Victor." Although his eyes were bloodshot, Professor Hart’s ntal state seed fine, "The youth’s body really is good, working for over ten hours without feeling tired."
The professor ca over, chuckling, his gaze naturally sweeping across the ’Sir House’, the vice-ministerial level figure, lying on the bed next to them.
How to deal with this distinguished superior evidently beca a difficult issue.
The professor’s expression managent was impeccable, instantly showing a worried look as he asked, "How’s this patient’s condition?"
"Not great." Zhou Qingfeng, also ’an actor’ at the mont, said in a low tone: "Sir House is enduring imnse suffering from his illness, and we’ve exhausted all options."
He spat out terms like ’blood oxygen’, ’breathing’, ’heart and lung’, and a bunch of other jargon.
As a dical specialist, Professor Hart listened and nodded repeatedly, "Victor, your opinion is..."
Zhou Qingfeng quickly answered, "I think, rather than let him continue lying there like a living corpse, we better provide ’end-of-life care.’
Give Sir House a peaceful ending to his life. I believe that at this mont, he would think so too."
As soon as he said this, the patient on the bed suddenly struggled violently, his intubated mouth and nose making odd ’hoo hoo’ sounds, like a soul trapped within his shell shouting out.
His pallid eyelids quivered madly, his murky eyeballs rolling intensely under his skin, as if about to break free from the shackles of slumber the next second.
Everyone in the room stared at the patient, saying nothing, and exchanged no glances. Only the rhythmic "beep beep" of the heart monitor was particularly jarring in the silence.
Seeing the patient’s struggles grow more intense, Zhou Qingfeng, after a few seconds of surprise, quickly turned off the ’artificial lung’ beside the bed.
With the ’lung’ off, the patient without autonomous breathing imdiately faced oxygen deprivation, the brain fell into a coma, thus stopping the struggle.
Shanni stared at Zhou Qingfeng in astonishnt and was about to say sothing.
Professor Hart next to her let out a sigh of relief, hurrying to speak, "Victor is from UC Berkeley, studying infectious diseases, I trust his judgnt.
People always have to die, and the pandemic is too severe now. We should respect Mr. House, may God bless him."
After saying that, the professor, as if finalizing his view, deliberately drew a cross on his chest and muttered ’An.’
-----------------
Shanni hastily chased after Professor Hart’s steps, following him into the director’s office of the underground hospital. It was actually just a small space separated by a curtain, with two desks, a chair, and a camp bed.
Professor Hart slumped in a swivel chair like a lump of mud, the dark bags under his eyes particularly visible under the light. He slowly took off his glasses, using the corner of his lab coat to wipe the lenses.
Shanni leaned on the desk, interrogating, "Professor, you can’t let Victor ss around like this. He’s not even a dical doctor, and has no capability to assess the patient’s condition."
The professor’s eyelids drooped, showing a look of soone who couldn’t sleep even if he wanted to, just enduring. He was too lazy to speak loudly, only able to sigh and say:
"Shanni, you’re not the only one here with a sense of justice, and not the only one trying with all their strength to save lives.
Child, this world is collapsing.
If there were enough resources, of course, we could save everyone, but we don’t have that.
Victor is at least still saving people, while that group of suit-wearing bastards have long hidden in bunkers. He’s doing great, beyond reproach.
Now we can only select so patients to save. Soone has to be responsible for this difficult task."
"I understand what you an, but what about afterward? What if soone pursues Victor’s responsibility..." Shanni said in a low voice, "He’ll be sent to prison."
Professor Hart simply laughed at this, "Victor himself is a wanted criminal, not even an Arican, he doesn’t care at all."
"What?" Shanni’s words were getting tangled, "He’s... a wanted criminal?"
"Don’t you ever watch current affairs news?" The professor chuckled lightly, "I recognized his identity the mont I saw him.
Reviews
All reviews (0)