Chapter 6

Ethan Cross barely had a moment to sit before the door to his clinic creaked open again. His makeshift workspace was cluttered with supplies—used gauze, blood-stained instruments, and empty syringes. He had just finished treating a boy with a fractured arm when he looked up to see Vivian standing in the doorway.

"You're persistent," Ethan said, his voice flat. He didn't bother hiding his exhaustion. "If you're here for small talk, I'm not in the mood."

Vivian smirked, stepping inside and closing the door behind her. This time, her demeanor was more calculated, her eyes scanning every corner of the room. "You're a hard man to ignore, Doctor Cross."

Ethan's jaw tightened. "What do you want, Vivian?"

She reached into her jacket and pulled out a thick envelope, tossing it onto the table in front of him. It landed with a heavy thud, the sound unmistakably that of a lot of cash.

"Five thousand," she said casually. "For a simple conversation."

Ethan raised an eyebrow. "And what happens if I tell you to keep your money and walk out that door?"

Vivian's smirk widened. "Then I'll make things… inconvenient for you. For example, I could let the underground know that the 'brilliant doctor' they've come to admire is also wanted for the murder of Senator Marcus Holt. How do you think they'd react to that?"

Ethan's stomach dropped, but he kept his face neutral. "What do you want?" he repeated, this time with an edge of steel in his voice.

Vivian leaned forward, her green eyes narrowing. "I've done my research on you, Ethan. You weren't exactly a rising star in the medical world before you came down here. Barely scraping by, losing patients left and right, and suddenly—what? You're pulling off miracles in the dirtiest corners of the city?"

Ethan's pulse quickened. "I got better," he said simply.

She chuckled, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Sure. But I'm not here to figure out your little secret. I don't care how you got your skills. What I care about is what you can do for me."

Ethan folded his arms. "And what's that?"

Vivian reached into her jacket again, this time pulling out a tablet. She swiped a finger across the screen and turned it toward him. Ethan's eyes widened as he took in the images—schematics, formulas, and detailed notes on some kind of experimental drug.

"I have a client," Vivian began, her voice smooth and deliberate. "A very powerful one, with deep pockets. They're working on something revolutionary, but they've hit a roadblock. They need someone who can take their research from theory to practice. Someone who can work under pressure. Someone like you."

Ethan's gaze lingered on the tablet. The images were highly technical, but the system's voice whispered in his mind, providing just enough context to make them clearer.

"This isn't medicine," Ethan said, his tone accusatory. "This is… something else."

Vivian shrugged. "Let's just say it's unorthodox. But it pays well. Ten thousand upfront, plus protection from anyone who tries to come after you."

"And if I refuse?"

Her expression hardened. "Then I'll make sure every bounty hunter, thug, and criminal in this city knows who you really are."

Before Ethan could respond, the door burst open, and Grayson stumbled in, carrying a man over his shoulder. Blood dripped from the man's chest, soaking Grayson's shirt. His face was pale, and his breathing was shallow.

"Doc!" Grayson barked. "He's been shot! Lost a lot of blood—need you to save him, now!"

Ethan sprang into action, shoving Vivian's tablet aside as he cleared the table. "Get him down here!" he ordered.

Grayson laid the man on the table, his large hands trembling. "His name's Leo," Grayson said. "He's one of my best. You have to save him."

Ethan pulled on his gloves, assessing the wound. The bullet had entered near the left side of the chest, dangerously close to the heart. Blood was pooling fast, and his pulse was weak.

"System," Ethan muttered under his breath. "I need a plan."

"Diagnosis: Cardiac tamponade due to gunshot wound. Immediate intervention required to drain pericardial fluid and repair arterial damage. Activating Advanced Cardiothoracic Surgery: Level 1."

A familiar surge of knowledge filled Ethan's mind, and he set to work. "Grayson, I need your men out of here," he said sharply. "This isn't a spectator sport."

Grayson hesitated, then nodded, barking orders for everyone to leave. Only Vivian stayed, leaning against the wall with a calculating look.

"You're going to operate here?" she asked. "Without proper tools?"

Ethan ignored her, grabbing a scalpel. "Grayson, hold him steady. If he moves, this gets a lot messier."

The operation was brutal. Blood spurted as Ethan made the incision, exposing the pericardium. The makeshift suction device he'd used before came into play again, draining the fluid that had built up around Leo's heart. Every second felt like a gamble, but the system's guidance was precise.

"Forceps," Ethan snapped, and Grayson handed him the tool with surprising steadiness.

Minutes passed like hours, but finally, Ethan closed the last suture. Leo's pulse steadied, and his breathing evened out. Ethan sat back, his hands trembling from the effort.

"He's stable," Ethan said, his voice hoarse. "But he's going to need a lot of rest."

Grayson let out a relieved breath, clapping Ethan on the back. "You're a damn miracle worker, Doc."

As Grayson carried Leo out, Vivian remained, her arms crossed and a faint smirk on her lips.

"That was impressive," she said. "But it doesn't change anything."

Ethan glared at her. "You saw what just happened. You really think I have time to play mad scientist for you?"

Vivian stepped closer, lowering her voice. "You don't have a choice, Ethan. You're good—too good. People are starting to talk about you. It's only a matter of time before the wrong people find out where you are. I'm offering you a way out."

Ethan stared at her, his mind racing. He hated the idea of working for someone like Vivian, but the alternative was unthinkable. He didn't trust her, but for now, she had the upper hand.

"What exactly do you need me to do?" he asked reluctantly.

Her smirk returned. "That's more like it. I'll send you the details soon. Just be ready."

As Vivian walked out, Ethan leaned against the table, his exhaustion catching up to him. The system's voice broke the silence.

"Objective updated: Navigate external pressure while maintaining personal mission. Probability of success: 67%."

Ethan exhaled shakily.