dical Center
In the end, Dr. Shepherd only took Adam to et the female patient's family.
George's sense of justice was practically bursting at the seams right now.
This place couldn't handle that kind of righteous glow.
The patient's family, of course, had no idea about all the twists and turns behind the scenes.
They'd originally been told there was basically no hope—hurry over to say their last goodbyes and confirm the organ donation while they were at it.
Who could've guessed a miracle would drop from the sky?
She could still be saved!
Naturally, they were all sobbing with joy.
Of course, part of that was because organ donation here is completely unpaid.
Otherwise, Adam would've probably gotten another front-row seat to the flaws of human nature.
Haven't you heard?
There was this one guy whose older brother—minding his own business at ho—got randomly killed, like so cosmic "disaster from above." And what did the younger brother do? He stood there, representing his "ascended-to-heaven" big bro, forgiving the murderer. Completely ignored his crying parents next to him and went straight to hug the killer.
Why? Because he knew his brother was a devout believer—life and death were God's will, so obviously they had to forgive the murderer.
That's the only way the world gets redemption!
That's the only way the world gets true love!
Emmm.
And in his hand? A fat check.
Moved himself to tears with his own nobility.
Now, if organ donation did co with a paycheck, imagine one—or all—of the patient's family mbers bawling, "She's already suffered so much! Stop torturing her—let her return to God's embrace in peace. Saving so many lives with her final act would be her blessing!"
If that happened, Adam wouldn't even blink.
And if it did go down like that?
That'd be the real twist of human nature, the collapse of morality!
Because let's be real—humanity can't stand up to any real test.
And honestly, it shouldn't have to.
Luckily, Adam didn't have to deal with that ss. All he saw was the patient's family crying tears of joy and showering him and the team with endless gratitude.
And that's the power of rules—the kind of thing all those "freedom-loving" types and superhero wannabes love to scoff at!
No rules, no order.
But if you're gonna break the rules, there have to be rules to break in the first place, right?
---
Operating Room – Scrub Area
"Stop staring. We've got surgery coming up, and you need to be looking at the patient's brain, not mine," Adam said to George, who was gawking at him while they scrubbed in.
"I just wanna know what's going on in that head of yours," George shot back. "You're the one who fought tooth and nail to save Mr. Dean. You're the one who backed
up without hesitation to stop the organ removal team. But you're also the one who chose to hide the truth from the patient's family! Which one's the real you?"
Adam smirked. "Oh, let's flip that around. You're the one who went all out to expose Dr. Tyler, the anesthesiologist, for showing up drunk. You're the one who fought to stop the removal team. But when redith was dozing off, didn't trim her nails, and accidentally punctured a patient's heart—you told
to be 'kind' and not rat her out. So, tell , which one's the real you?"
"…"
George froze, totally thrown off. The light of justice in his eyes couldn't quite reach Adam anymore.
Yeah, he was a pretty righteous guy—most of the ti.
But when it ca down to "human justice" versus "pretty-face justice," and those two collided?
He picked redith's looks every ti.
Adam didn't bother with George's famous double-standard ltdown. He finished scrubbing in and stepped into the operating room.
Brainstem tumor resection—now that's what he was here for.
He didn't have ti to play George and wonder what was ticking in other people's heads.
Unless, of course, that "other person" asked him to cut their brain open for research.
The surgery went off without a hitch.
---
"Duncan, after your internship, any interest in neurosurgery?"
Dr. Shepherd always had a bit of a reflective vibe after operating with Adam. This ti, though, he outright threw out an offer.
In the U.S., once your one-year internship is done and you pass the exams, you get your dical license.
Not the full-blown attending physician license, mind you—it's more like a starter pack. You can write so basic prescriptions, nothing too specialized.
Then, as a resident, you pick a specialty: neurosurgery, cardiothoracic surgery, plastics, ophthalmology, dermatology, you na it.
You train under an attending in that field, honing your skills.
Take Bailey, for example—she went for cardiothoracic surgery, the most ambitious, challenging, and prestigious specialty out there. Her ntor? Dr. Burke, a legend in the field.
Technically, Burke's her real boss. Dr. Shepherd might be an attending too and can give her orders, but only if they don't clash with Burke's.
So when Dr. Shepherd—a neurosurgery rockstar—asked Adam this, the implication was clear:
"If you want, pick neurosurgery, and I'll take you under my wing."
"I've always been really interested in neurosurgery," Adam said with a hint of apology. "But after my internship, I'm planning to go for cardiothoracic first. Once I finish that training, I'd love for you to give
a shot at learning from you in neuro."
"You picking that route makes sense…" Dr. Shepherd started, a little miffed at the soft rejection but gracious enough to roll with it. Then he did a double take. "Wait, what? You're gonna do cardiothoracic and then neurosurgery?"
"Yup," Adam said with a grin. "The two most important organs in the body—the heart and the brain—I'm fascinated by both. I figure I've got the brains and the energy for it, so why not go for both?"
"…"
Dr. Shepherd was speechless.
If it were anyone else, he'd have warned them not to bite off more than they could chew.
Becoming a top-tier expert in any specialty isn't a walk in the park. Even if you make it to the top, there are still diseases that'll stump you—pushing you to keep leveling up your skills for a lifeti.
Double-specializing? For most, even geniuses, it'd just an being diocre in both.
But this was Adam saying it.
Dr. Shepherd couldn't bring himself to say it was impossible.
Their little exchange didn't just throw Shepherd off—everyone else in the room, George included, was giving Adam these weird, sideways looks.
What a wild ambition!
Adam just smiled modestly.
He was an adult now—no multiple-choice questions for him. He wanted it all.
Heck, after cardiothoracic and neurosurgery?
Infectious disease, immunology, oncology—he was curious about those too.
Back when he first started d school, the goal was simple: beco a great doctor for a stable, safe way to extend his life.
But now that he was on this path, Adam had slowly morphed into one of those "surgeons with a God complex" the nurses always whispered about.
In the OR, scalpel in hand, he was unstoppable.
Every word, every move, decided if a life hung on or slipped away.
Beggar or president—they were all just patients, waiting for his verdict.
Everything was in his control.
That kind of power? It's intoxicating.
That feeling? Better than words can describe.
Because, really—who doesn't want to be God?
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