The Surgeon's Studio Chapter 1

Chapter 1: A Heavyweight Surgery

8

Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation  Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

The light in the operating theatre was incredibly bright, the scalpel was ridiculously thin, and Zheng Ren was in a fright.

His worked hard to land on this opportunity to be able attend today’s surgery. Little did he know, Director Fu’s volunteered himself as surgical a.s.sistant to honor the professor’s involvement in this operation.

He stood in one corner of the operating theater—a location with no clear view of the operating field—in a sterile surgical gown.

With surgeries, come risks. Zheng Ren just did not expect one to happen before the operation had even begun.

This operation, which was starting very soon, was of utmost importance.

The patient on the operating table was the richest man in Sea City and had unfortunately been diagnosed with malignant pancreatic head cancer.

He could have gone to Imperial Capital or Sorcery Capital to consult the best surgeon in the world to conduct the most difficult and highest-grade surgery in the country.

Coincidentally, Professor Ichiro Moriyu from j.a.pan had come to China for lectures during this period.

Professor Moriyu was a world-cla.s.s specialist in hepatobiliary and pancreatic surgery. There were also rumors claiming he was the surgeon who operated on the Emperor of j.a.pan a few years ago.

A surgery demonstration required a live broadcast that incorporated direct visualization of the operating table from all angles throughout the procedure.

This patient had refused to partic.i.p.ate in the surgery for demonstration even if it was free. Instead, for a king’s ransom, he had sent someone to request Professor Moriyu to perform the surgery personally in Sea City before returning to j.a.pan.

Zheng Ren was aware of the difficulty in inviting such a world-cla.s.s specialist to perform the surgery, but the patient was reluctant to receive surgical treatment under observation in Imperial Capital¹.

Besides…

More importantly…

The patient had actually managed to invite Professor Moriyu to Sea City!

The professor had strict rules in his surgery, one of them being, observers were not allowed during the operation. Thus, Zheng Ren’s persistent efforts ended up in vain as he was forced to stay away from the operating table during the surgery.

As instructed by Director Fu and Chief Surgeon Liu, Zheng Ren was expected to wear a surgical gown, stand in one corner during the ongoing operation, and a.s.sist in the surgery by suturing the incision post-operation.

This was the best Zheng Ren could get out of this surgery.

…

The operation officially began at a quarter past nine.

Professor Ichiro Moriyu, who was stern in his work without the expected arrogance of a reputable doctor, started making an incision himself.

Each layer—skin, subcutaneous tissue, fascial layers, peritoneum—was cut skillfully like a butcher dismembering an ox. The total amount of blood loss was very minimal with a visual estimation of five to ten milliliters. There were mild blood spots visible on the surgical gauze like blooming crimson flowers in a thick blanket of white snow.

However, accident happened at this instant.

Director Fu and Chief Surgeon Liu were shocked as the peritoneal cavity was exposed.

The pancreatic cancer had developed rapidly and its tumor cells had already metastasized to the surrounding tissue, forming strong adhesions with nearby organs as if they were a single ent.i.ty.

Numerous experts had gone through this patient’s imaging films before they were delivered to Professor Moriyu, who agreed that surgery was a viable treatment option in this case.

Every expert and professor concluded that this patient suffered from stage three pancreatic head cancer. This was a serious condition but there had been no notable adhesion between the tumor and surrounding tissue in all films, which would have been suitable for surgical treatment.

Unfortunately, everyone had misjudged the condition.

Beads of sweat started trickling down Director Fu’s head and dampened his sterile surgical cap after observing the situation.

What the h.e.l.l was going on?

A nuclear magnetic resonance imaging had been ordered two days before surgery to prevent any mistakes and there was no obvious change noted when compared to previous films.

Was it possible that the tumor had grown so rapidly in a mere two days?

Director Fu held the aspirator with a trembling hand.

The annoyed Professor Ichiro Moriyu tapped the aspirator with the curved forceps in his hand and mumbled something softly in j.a.panese.

Even though Director Fu did not understand j.a.panese, he could hear the irritation in the tapping of the aspirator. Professor Moriyu was dissatisfied with him. Dread crept over him like a glacial chill and numbed his entire body.

The expression of a young translator behind them darkened immediately as he gave Director Fu an angry stare. “Fu-san¹, Professor Moriyu isn’t satisfied with your performance. Even though your skills are as inferior as the equipment here, please pay attention to the surgery.”

Director Fu was embarra.s.sed. It had been a long time since anyone dared to speak to him in such a derogatory tone. No wonder the j.a.panese and Chinese traitors incurred the most hatred and enmity during the war.

However, Director Fu buried the anger in his heart and forced a smile on his face, which appeared as if he intended to fawn over the j.a.panese in any case.

The patient’s condition was worse than expected. It was merely a very complicated operation posed to the world-cla.s.s surgeon, not all hope was lost.

The surgery continued. The adhesions between the tumor and its surrounding tissues were cut with extreme patience and vigilance. Larger capillaries would be ligated or cauterized in advance without exception, and the total blood loss remained minimal so far.

Professor Ichiro Moriyu was undoubtedly the main character of the day. Under the bright surgical lighthead, he showed his outstanding skills on stage like a dazzling star in the night sky.

On the other hand, Zheng Ren was merely a speck of dust at a dark corner—insignificant and negligible.

Despite the lack of a clear view of the operating table, Zheng Ren imagined the whole process based on the instruments used by Professor Ichiro Moriyu in his mind.

How Zheng Ren wished he could take a closer look at the operation at that moment.

He tried to observe the surgery from different angles but to no avail.

Approximately ten minutes later, Professor Moriyu placed the forceps and blunt surgical scissors down, said something in j.a.panese, and moved away from the operating table.

The patient had lost his last chance of surgical treatment as a thick adhesion had formed between the tumor and abdominal aorta. Even Professor Moriyu was helpless in this situation. Not every disease could be treated with surgery, and not all surgeries would end up successful.

This surgery was declared a failure.

Professor Moriyu did not insist on continuing the surgery because there would be a ma.s.sive hemorrhage if the adhesion between the tumor and abdominal aorta was forcefully cut. The patient would not have left the operating table alive if that happened.

It was a wise decision.

“Zheng Ren, suture the incision with Cen Meng,” Chief Surgeon Liu instructed Zheng Ren.

Zheng Ren was merely an ordinary attending surgeon. Despite his diligence and perseverance, he was too young to partic.i.p.ate in advanced surgeries because the current medical system was strictly stratified. The most he could perform at his standard was surgical treatment for appendicitis, hernias, and other tier three or four surgeries.

He intended to stand closer and learn a little something from the surgery performed by the world-cla.s.s professor, but was unfortunately sent to a corner without a clear view of the whole operation instead.

However, Zheng Ren had no complaints at all.

‘How long has it been? Is the operation finished?

‘No, the operation must have failed.’

Director Fu and Chief Surgeon Liu accompanied Professor Moriyu out of the operating theater. The only people left beside the operating table were Zheng Ren and Cen Meng—a chief resident in the first general surgical department—who were in charge of suturing the incision.

Zheng Ren managed to calm down and started observing the surgical operation’s progress.

The large tumor adhered to the abdominal aorta firmly as if it were actually a normal anatomical structure of the human body.

‘No wonder they gave up,’ Zheng Ren thought.

All of a sudden, a bright light exploded in Zheng Ren’s eyes. The surgical lighthead started shaking and various instruments—scalpels, surgical scissors, and forceps—were dancing on the stainless steel surgical table in front of the scrub nurse.

He was so confused. Did he just hallucinate? He had an epiphany immediately after. It was not a hallucination, it was an earthquake!

Suddenly, the whole building was shaking. There was a terrible rumble from the roof as if the ceiling and cemented frames were threatening to crumble and trap everyone under tonnes of rubble.

However, Zheng Ren was the only one experiencing this disaster. The surgery on the operating table was still ongoing.

That feeling ended as soon as it appeared, as if everything did not happen.

A vicious s.h.i.+ver struck him momentarily and the surgical lighthead swung, s.h.i.+ning white light directly into Zheng Ren’s pupils.

The beams, which were stronger than the afternoon sunlight in intensity, blinded his vision before he felt an icy cold breeze creeping from his head into his body.

Did the building collapse and crush him to a grisly death?

Was this how dying was like?

Zheng Ren suddenly heard an intense coughing within his body and detected a b.l.o.o.d.y scent amidst the confusion.

What the h.e.l.l happened? Was he hallucinating again?

Numerous memories since childhood—a few which had been long-forgotten—started pouring into his mind clearly and with overwhelming force.

“Is this a memory surge before death, or my life flas.h.i.+ng¹ before my eyes, like in folktales?” Zheng Ren thought through the terrible headache.

How long had it been? Had only a second pa.s.sed or a few years? Regardless, the raging storm of memories finally calmed and a voice erupted in his ears.

[System binding initiating…

[System binding completed…

[Host, please accept the novice mission.]