Mid-February.
In a quiet suburb of Boston, Dr. Ryan Mitchell, M.D., sat at his desk, scrolling through job listings on the American Medical Career Network.
As the Deputy Chief of Pulmonary Medicine at Boston General Hospital, Ryan was well-respected in the New England medical community.
But he knew that stagnation was the enemy of ambition.
He had dedicated over a decade to his field, yet he felt stuck—working tirelessly in a prestigious institution but with little room for further advancement.
Ryan wanted more.
He wanted to be at the forefront of medicine, where he could shape the future of pulmonary care, lead groundbreaking research, and truly make a difference.
His computer screen was flooded with job postings from top hospitals across the country:
"February 2014 Recruitment – Cleveland Clinic Pulmonary Medicine Division."
"Pulmonologist Opening – Johns Hopkins Hospital, Baltimore."
"Clinical Research Position – Pulmonary & Critical Care, Mayo Clinic."
All excellent institutions.
Yet, none of these listings felt different. None of them were game changers.
Then, something caught his eye.
A bold, eye-catching listing appeared at the top of the page:
"Celestial Medical Center – Pulmonary & Critical Care Division Hiring! Seeking 60 High-Level Specialists!"
His pulse quickened.
Celestial Medical Center?
He had never heard of it.
Curious, he clicked on the posting.
The description read:
The Pulmonary & Critical Care Division at Celestial Medical Center is looking to recruit 60 top-tier specialists.
The positions were categorized into four tiers, each based on experience and credentials:
Tier 1: Internationally renowned researchers, Ivy League professors, NIH-funded principal investigators, or equivalent foreign experts. (Age limit: 70)
Tier 2: Chief scientists of major national research projects, recipients of prestigious NIH grants, or faculty members at top-tier medical schools. (Age limit: 60)
Tier 3: Leading medical scholars with high-impact research publications and outstanding academic achievements. (Age limit: 55)
Tier 4: Recognized clinical experts with significant contributions to medical research and leadership potential. (Age limit: 50)
Ryan hesitated for a moment, then clicked into the details for Tier 4 candidates.
The qualifications appeared on his screen:
1. M.D. and Ph.D. in medicine from a top medical institution.
2. Currently serving as an attending or associate chief physician at a major hospital.
3. Published research in high-impact journals, with recognized contributions to the field.
Ryan's eyes narrowed.
He fit the criteria perfectly.
He had earned his M.D. and Ph.D. from Harvard Medical School, specializing in Pulmonary & Critical Care Medicine.
His research on acute respiratory distress syndrome (ARDS) had been published in The New England Journal of Medicine—one of the most respected medical journals in the world.
By all standards, he was exactly the kind of physician they were looking for.
A part of him wondered—why had he never heard of Celestial Medical Center before?
Next, he checked the salary and benefits package.
For Tier 4 specialists, the base salary was $280,000 per year before taxes.
(Note: In the first year, 60% of the salary will be paid, increasing incrementally until reaching the full amount by the sixth year.)
In addition to the base salary, the hospital offered:
Comprehensive health insurance and retirement benefits.
A $140,000 signing bonus.
A fully furnished apartment provided by the hospital for the first year.
Ryan exhaled slowly.
This wasn't just a job—it was a serious investment in top-tier talent.
Even at Mayo Clinic, Cleveland Clinic, and Johns Hopkins, specialists typically earned between $200,000 to $600,000, depending on tenure and subspecialties.
But for a brand-new hospital to offer this level of compensation?
It meant only one thing:
Celestial Medical Center wasn't aiming to be just another hospital—it was aiming to become the best in the world.
Ryan leaned back in his chair, staring at the screen.
This could be it.
This could be the opportunity he had been waiting for all along.
The benefits package was even more generous than Ryan had expected.
Celestial Medical Center wasn't just offering a high salary—it was ensuring that its physicians could focus on medicine without distractions.
Spousal Employment Assistance: The hospital would help arrange a suitable job for a physician's spouse based on their education and experience.
Education Support: Assistance in securing top-tier schooling for their children.
Fully Covered Travel & Accommodation: The hospital would pay for all interview-related travel expenses, including flights, trains, long-distance buses, and hotel stays.
Ryan was overjoyed.
The compensation and benefits at Celestial Medical Center were exactly what he had hoped for.
But curiosity got the best of him.
He decided to check the salaries for physicians in higher talent tiers.
Strangely, the base salaries for all levels were the same—the only difference lay in settling allowances and bonuses.
Then, a new concern surfaced in his mind.
Celestial Medical Center was completely unheard of.
Where had this mystery hospital suddenly appeared from?
Could it be a scam?
Was it even real?
After some hesitation, Ryan decided to submit his résumé.
It was worth finding out.
Just as he finished, he scrolled further down the list of job postings—
And what he saw shocked him.
"Celestial Medical Center – Orthopedic Surgery Division Hiring 60 Specialists!"
"Neurosurgery Department Hiring 60 Top Surgeons!"
"Pancreatic Surgery Division Seeking 60 Highly Experienced Physicians!"
"Cardiology, Endocrinology, Pediatrics—Multiple Departments Hiring Now!"
It wasn't just one department—every department was recruiting dozens of elite doctors.
Ryan's jaw tightened as he read further.
The salary figures were staggering:
Plastic surgeons: $500,000 per year before taxes.
Neurosurgeons: $480,000 per year.
Orthopedic surgeons: $450,000 per year.
Cardiologists: $420,000 per year.
Endocrinologists and pediatricians: $250,000 per year—the lowest salary tier.
Even the lowest-paid specialists were earning nearly twice the national average.
Ryan leaned back in his chair, stunned.
He knew that in major U.S. hospitals, chief physicians typically earned $200,000 to $600,000 per year, but that included bonuses, speaking fees, and consulting income.
Celestial Medical Center, on the other hand, was offering pure salary—and at the highest levels in the industry.
The numbers didn't add up.
Where was all this money coming from?
Ryan quickly scrolled through Celestial Medical Center's full department list—
72 medical divisions.
If they were hiring 60 doctors per department, that meant:
4,320 physicians in total.
Each doctor receiving an average annual salary of $300,000.
With a $140,000 signing bonus per hire, the hospital would need at least $6 billion in funding!
How could a new hospital afford this?
He had no idea.
But one thing was certain—
Celestial Medical Center was unlike anything he had ever seen before.
His fingers hovered over the mouse for a moment.
Then, with a deep breath, Ryan clicked 'Submit Application.'