The Job is Done

"What are you trying to pull, Sophie?" Dr. Quentyn’s expression darkened, and seemed as if it could explode any moment. How could they allow such a feat to be performed by an ordinary civilian?

Thompson held him back and said, "Dr. Quentyn, I think it’s fine. Maybe we can try it out—I know Li. That guy is a humble and low-profile guy. Unless he was certain, he wouldn’t have offered."

Quentyn glared at him and said, "Are you all nuts? My God, listen to yourselves…"

Thompson cut him off and said, "Looking at the situation now, that fatty’s leg has too much fat. Without a machine to scan, are you sure you can find the bullet and the damaged vessels?"

Dr. Quentyn kept silent, his eyebrows creased, his expression full of hesitation.

Thompson pushed the two into the modified ambulance and said, "Hurry up and perform the surgery, else he’s dead. Oh, do you need me to anesthetize him?"