BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP.
The sound was a piercing scream that filled the trauma room, drowning out the sobs of the Mayor's wife.
"Charge to 200! Clear!" Chris yelled, his voice cracking with panic.
THUMP.
The boy's body jerked on the gurney as the electricity coursed through him.
But the monitor didn't change and the green line remained flat.
"Again! Charge to 300. Come on, damn it! Work!" Chris screamed, sweat pouring down his face
THUMP.
"He's not responding! Pupils are fixed and dilated. Doctor, he's… he's gone." a nurse cried, her hands shaking as she held the oxygen mask.
"No!" The Mayor roared. He shoved the nurse aside and grabbed his son's limp hand. "Wake up! Jason, wake up!"
He turned his wild, bloodshot eyes toward Chris. "You said you stabilized him! You said it was a fever! Why is my son dead?!"
"I… I don't know! His heart just stopped! It must be a genetic defect! Or… or the equipment malfunctioned! It's not my fault!" Chris stammered, backing away, holding the defibrillator paddles close to his chest like a shield.
"Not your fault?" The Mayor lunged.
SMACK.
The sound of the slap echoed louder than the defibrillator shock.
The Mayor's hand connected with Chris's cheek with the force of a sledgehammer.
Chris crashed into a tray of surgical instruments, sending scalpels and forceps clattering across the floor.
"You incompetent butcher." the Mayor screamed. "You killed him!"
"Mr. Mayor, please!" Elizabeth rushed forward, grabbing the Mayor's arm. "My father did everything he could! It was unavoidable. The boy was too sick…"
"Shut up!" The Mayor shoved her away. "If my son doesn't wake up, I will bury you both in the same grave!"
In the corner, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, Burt watched the scene unfold.
His expression was unreadable.
He looked at the boy. The blue mist around the child's heart was tightening like a noose.
There was maybe a minute left before the soul departed completely.
"I can save him," he finally spoke up.
His voice wasn't loud, but in the sudden silence of the room, it landed like a heavy stone.
The Mayor froze. He turned slowly, his eyes locking onto Burt.
"What did you say?"
"He's lying!" Elizabeth shrieked, pointing a manicured finger at Burt. "Don't listen to him! He's a driver! He washes the ambulance! He doesn't know the first thing about medicine!"
"But he knew the epinephrine would kill him," the Mayor gritted, his voice trembling. "He warned you. And you laughed."
The Mayor let go of his wife and walked toward Burt. He grabbed Burt by the lapels of his expensive suit.
"Can you really save him? Or are you just tormenting me?" the Mayor asked, desperation leaking from every pore.
Burt looked down at the Mayor's hands gripping his suit.
The man was desperate, so he tried not to hold this against him.
However, he still pried his hands off his lapel, smoothing the crumpled part as he nodded calmly.
"I can save him, but I'm not a charity."
Elizabeth gasped, feigning self-righteousness. "You… you monster! A child is dying and you're talking about money?"
"And where is this bra do coming from? You were the one who nicked an artery first and ruijed everything.l
"Mr. Mayor, I know you're in pain right now and will do anything, but this man is a liar looking to swindle you out of money."
Burt ignored her while the Mayor swallowed, contemplating.
A moment late, he reached into jacket and pulled out a checkbook.
After scribbling on it furiously, he ripped the check out and slammed it into Burt's chest.
"Save him."
Burt took the check. His jaw almost dropped when he saw the amount. Ten million.
He didn't let his surpise show and folded the cheque neatly to place in his pocket.
Then, he moved
.
He stepped over Chris, who was still groaning on the floor holding his swelling cheek and stood over the boy.
"Get away from him. You'll contaminate the sterile field! You're filthy trash!" Chris yelled from the floor, spitting blood.
Burt ignored him and raised his right hand.
As he extended his index finger, the tip began to glow with a faint, white light—pure, concentrated Qi.
Whoosh.
He brought his finger down, tapping the boy firmly on the center of his chest, right between the ribs.
The Thunder Pulse.
Th-thump.
The sound was faint, but audible.
Burt tapped again. Harder.
TH-THUMP.
A cloud of icy blue vapor erupted from the boy's mouth, shooting up toward the ceiling lights like a geyser.
The room temperature plummeted instantly.
The nurses gasped, hugging themselves against the sudden chill.
"Breathe," Burt commanded.
The boy's back arched. His eyes flew open.
"HAAAA!"
Jason sucked in a massive, ragged breath.
Color rushed back into his cheeks, turning from grey to pink in a heartbeat.
Beep… beep… beep… beep.
The heart monitor, previously a flat line of death, began to rhythm rhythmic and strong.
80 beats per minute. Perfect.
"Mom?" the boy croaked, looking around.
"Jason!" The Mayor's wife screamed, throwing herself onto her son on the gurney, weeping uncontrollably.
The room was stunned into silence.
The nurses stared at Burt with their mouths open. The doctors looked at the monitor, then at Burt, unable to comprehend what they had just seen.
Burt stepped back, wiping his hands on a sterile towel.
"Keep him warm. No ice water. He'll be fine by tomorrow." He said to the Mayor, who was sobbing with relief, clutching his son's hand
Burt turned to leave.
"Wait!" The Mayor called out, standing up.
He wiped his eyes and looked at Burt with a mixture of awe and terror. "Who… who are you?"
Burt adjusted his cuffs and went silent.
Right. Everything was happening so fast he hadn't had a momen't to ponder what his future would be like.
But he knew every great doctor had a title. As for him…
"Dr. Nine. That's my name."
Then he walked toward the exit.
But Elizabeth was standing in his way. However, she was too dumbfounded to speak.
When she finally found her tongue, he was long gone.