Marvel Salted Fish Kryptonian

The white subcutaneous fat fills the surgical field of view, protecting the internal organs very well, and the bright red organs are completely invisible.

To be honest, this was the first time the tinker had seen this.

Most of the people who had surgery on them before were poor, so skinny they could be dragged away by a dog. Even wanting to become fat was a luxury, so how could they see so much fat?

The repairman picked up a large syringe and began to extract fat. When one syringe was full, he set it aside and switched to the second one. This fat would have to be injected back in later, so it couldn't be disposed of casually.

On the one hand, I wasn't asked to undergo liposuction. On the other hand, if the fat doesn't return to its original place after the surgery, it could affect organs that are already accustomed to a certain degree of pressure. It could also cause fascial laxity and wrinkles caused by sagging skin.

Secondly, liposuction is not about randomly removing fat. In addition to evenly removing fat, a certain amount of fat must be retained to prevent friction between organs.

Therefore, the surgeon only temporarily extracts the fat within the surgical field of view until the liver and gallbladder are exposed.

The nurse in charge of the equipment promptly handed over the scalpel. According to her experience, the next step was to deal with any adhesions to the organs and to clear the parts to be removed. The scalpel was the most basic tool; the rest depended on the physician's familiarity.

The repairman took the scalpel and quickly removed the stuck organs, exposing the liver and gallbladder. He then took the hemostats and clamped the blood vessels he was about to sever.

Scalpels, clamps, and other necessary tools were placed inside this old man's body. They seemed to be placed randomly, but also seemed to be inserted somewhere, just piled up in an unclear manner.

Then the tinker did something that surprised everyone: He took off his rubber gloves, threw them into the waste collection bin, and walked out.

Compared to the other doctors and nurses who were assisting, the old, fat man, who was only half anesthetized and was normal above the neck, and could even see the area where he was being operated on, asked excitedly, "What are you going to do?"

The tinker didn't bother to answer, but walked out of the inflatable operating room, picked up the extinguished cigar and relit it. Then, holding it in his mouth, he walked into the operating room that was supposed to maintain a sterile environment.

Not far away, the fat old man's men seemed to have noticed something was wrong with the operating room. They stopped wandering around and gathered around, but they didn't rush into the sterile space.

Taking a long drag on his cigar, the repairman blew the smoke onto the face of the fat old man lying on the operating table. He said seriously, "One million for my life."

"Fuck! Is this the time to talk about this?" the fat old white man roared. His men, those with guns, drew theirs, those without, grabbed their weapons, and stood outside the operating room in a fierce, furious manner. Still, no one dared to barge in.

The tinker, seemingly oblivious to the threat, said cheerfully, "Is there a better time than now? I won't raise my price. It's the same one million I agreed on. If you don't give it to me, I'll leave."

"Ah~! You damn bastard, I'm going to kill you. Kill you!"

The tinker chuckled and watched coldly as a group of people rushed into the operating room. Some pointed guns at him, while those without guns brandished weapons they had found.

The number one henchman who had "invited" the man to come here even had the muzzle of his gun pointed directly at the tinker's forehead, as if ready to shoot if he disagreed with him.

But this time, the tinker ignored these threats. Although he hadn't been afraid before, he now refused to cooperate. He even raised his cigar over the surgical field and flicked the ash into it.

"Ah~, what are you doing, you Madfak bastard! Kill him, kill him for me." The old fat man shouted excitedly to his subordinates.

The tinker said calmly, "Don't worry. Just throwing some cigarette ash in there won't kill anyone. Haven't you seen Rambo's movies? The hero uses gunpowder to disinfect wounds and stop bleeding. High-temperature cigarette ash won't cause bacterial infection."

A nurse next to me whispered, "But it could cause inflammation and adhesions after surgery..."

The tinker laughed and said, "Don't worry, even if this fat man is going to die, he won't die over such a trivial matter."

"Shoot! Shoot him!" The fat old white man roared, unable to bear it any longer.

"Before you shoot!" the tinker shouted, attracting everyone's attention before slowly saying, "You have to make sure someone can clean up this mess first. Otherwise, if I'm gone, you'll only have two options left."

"Let this fat guy die here; or call 911 and have an ambulance take him to a regular hospital to complete the surgery and close his abdomen."

The tinker turned to look at the others with interest and said, "If anyone wants to do this, then hurry up. This is your chance to rise to power. You don't think that after this shot, this fat man will still be alive or at large.

"I'm your only savior. Oh, that's not right. We can use this opportunity to kidnap another doctor who can perform this surgery. Maybe we can still make it. But you have to act quickly."

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Chapter 233 Rewards Received

The tinker's words made all of Walter White's men hesitate.

If no one else was present, perhaps he would have done it. But now that a lot of people were present, anyone who dared to step forward would give others the opportunity to avenge the boss and then naturally take over.

So no one dared to move at this time.

Even though the old white man was furious, he now understood his predicament. He looked at the other medical staff and cursed, "Fuck! Damn it! God damn it! Is there anyone among you who can continue this operation?"

Fearing they might be implicated, the assistant doctors and nurses quickly stepped back. If this operation were truly simple, like an appendectomy, they would have performed it.

However, bile duct resection is a very difficult operation, and no one present had ever seen it before. The repairman's method was not the same as that of a normal surgeon, which made them even more confused.

At a time like this, how could I possibly come out and say I was capable or incapable? That would be tantamount to courting death.

Seeing everyone's reaction, the repairman seemed even more confident and smug. He said, "Well, is one million a fair price? You can't afford to offend a doctor, after all." He blew another puff of smoke in the other man's face.

"Don't you have any medical ethics at all? Have you even forgotten the Hippocratic Oath?"

"Oh, you even know Hippocrates. I admire you." The tinker flicked some more ash into the old fat man's stomach, causing him to scream. Then he said:

"You can't expect someone who hasn't attended medical school and doesn't have a medical license to swear that kind of bullshit oath. Besides, what's the point of swearing? Aren't there fewer people who don't keep their words?"

"You!" The old, fat man barely lifted his neck and glared at the damned quack. He gritted his teeth and said, "Give it to me! I'll give it to you! It's only a million dollars, I can afford it. You just do the surgery for me now."

"Ha, I've seen people who don't keep their word. They only do things when they see money. If you don't have money, you can figure it out yourself. Maybe I can find a nice cemetery, a comfortable coffin, and a group of beautiful dancers to do a striptease on your grave."

"Ah, damn it. If you have the guts, just leave me here to die, otherwise when I recover, I will personally..."

The tinker pressed the cigar directly into Old White's body. The fat hit the cigar butt, making a distinct "sizzle" sound. He simply asked, "How about doing it yourself?"

"Take out the cigarette! Take that damn cigar out of my stomach. Who of you, go get me a million dollars right now! Smash this sour radish and kill him." The fat old man yelled at his subordinates.

"Hey, it would have been better if you had taken out the money earlier. It would have saved us from such a farce and trouble." The repairman smiled triumphantly and puffed on his cigar.

It's just that he pressed the cigarette too hard, and the cigarette butt was stained with human mucus, so it was almost out. So while he was waiting for the money to come, he walked out of the operating room to get a lighter and lit the cigar.

Then, ignoring the sterilization rules of the sterile room, he walked into the inflatable operating room. This series of outrageous operations made the unemployed nurses who came here for a little money tremble with fear.

If this happened in a regular hospital, it would be strange if he wasn't sued to death.

But don't think that illegal doctors are beyond the reach of the law. The surgery will eventually be completed. By then, if you don't have any evidence against the other party, everyone is already imagining how you'll end up.

The little girl who was too weak to endure psychologically had already started sobbing.

Is it difficult for gangs to raise money? Not at all, because their money can't be deposited in banks, so they just go to where they keep their money and get it. Unless they are really out of money.

So it didn't take long before someone came over carrying two heavy handbags.

They carried it directly into the operating room, placed it in front of the repairman, and unzipped it. The leader said, "It's all small change. One, five, ten, and twenty denominations. The total is one million. Do you want to order it right now?"

The tinker casually weighed it, then zipped up his large handbag and said, "Take it out and put it next to my handbag. I see you put it down, and I'll start over here."

As he spoke, the repairman put his cigar in his mouth again, put his hands in front of a nurse, and motioned him to help put on surgical gloves.

At this time, no one dared to disobey the surgeon. Even if the person lying on the operating table hated him to the core, he would not let his opened abdomen be unhappy.

The fat old man's subordinates naturally followed the instructions and took out the large handbags containing money and placed them next to the small bag brought by the repairman.

Everything was ready, and the repairman finally picked up the scalpel and began the excision. He first removed the cancerous bile duct, cut off the abnormally colored proliferative tissue, and threw it into the iron basin specially used to collect the excised tissue.

Then the liver tissue where the cancer cells had spread was cut off and thrown into the same place.

During the operation, the repairman kept advising, "Your blood pressure is very high right now. Don't be so angry. It's not good for your health, and it's not very friendly to the person performing the surgery."

"You know, it looks like a blood vessel here is about to burst. If it does, it'll be very troublesome for me to clean up. Normal blood pressure medication won't help you in this situation. Maintaining a good mood is more important."

"How can I be in a good mood? Tell me! How can I be in a good mood?" The fat old white man became more and more excited as he spoke, and he even began to breathe heavily.

According to standard surgical procedures, in such cases, medication would be added to the patient's IV drip to adjust their physical condition. However, the repairman acted as if he knew nothing and just operated without paying attention to anything else.

The doctors and nurses who were assisting him breathed a sigh of relief when they saw the lesion finally removed, but they also felt a surge of anxiety.

The surgeon is such a mess, will they be able to leave alive after the operation is completed?

Just before suturing and ligating the excised area, the repairman paused again. He turned and asked the two men who had been guarding the operating room. "Do you have a phone? I just remembered that I have an important call that I haven't made yet."

The fat old man had just calmed down, but soon became agitated again. He shouted, "Can't you just finish the operation before making that stupid phone call?"

"It will be too late then. This call is very important. If I don't make it, I won't be able to sleep today." The repairman said with a smile, holding a cigar.

"You damn bastard...give me the phone to him!" The fat old white man swallowed his words before he finished cursing and changed his tone to instruct his subordinates.

Chapter 234 Is the reputation loud enough?

While waiting for the call, the repairman did not continue the operation, but asked casually: "By the way, sir, I don't know your name yet."

The old fat man said fiercely: "Andrew Saxon, remember this name well."

"Is this name very loud? Will others know it as soon as they hear it?" the repairman asked curiously.

"You can try and see if there is any gangster or policeman who doesn't recognize me. If there is, it just means he is not from Los Angeles." The old white fat man said with rare pride.

The white guy who returned to the operating room did not bring the landline phone that the repairman had imagined, but brought a portable phone.

By 1994, cellular phones, later known as mobile phones, had become popular. While not as versatile as the smartphones of the 21st century, they at least freed people from the constraints of telephone wires.

I saw that the mobile phone presented was from Germany's Siemens, which can be said to be the best mobile phone brand of this era, and has a higher reputation than those of Nokia.

The reason is simple: its reception is excellent! In the same location, other brands of phones might have no signal at all, but Siemens can squeeze out one or two bars of signal. That's its advantage.

It can almost be said that Siemens ranks second in this era and no one dares to rank first.

"Do you know how to operate it?" the young man who handed me the phone asked, his tone tinged with contempt.

"That's easy." The tinker took the phone, pressed the '911' key, and then pressed the green dial button.

Due to the angle, only a few medical staff standing behind the repairman could see it. However, in the operating room, everyone was wearing masks. For a moment, no one noticed the strange expressions on their faces.

The emergency center's phone didn't ring for long before someone picked it up. The tinker said immediately, "I've seen Andrew Saxon. He's in an old industrial area on the outskirts of Los Angeles. Specifically..."

The tinkerer carefully explained the location of the warehouse they were in and how to get there. Only then did the fat old man and his men realize something was amiss. Someone raised his gun and shouted, "Who are you calling? Who the hell are you calling?"

Even Andrew Saxon, the boss lying on the operating table, figured out what was happening and started cursing.

After taking a look at the young man holding the gun, the repairman considerately put his forehead against the muzzle of the gun, with obvious provocation.

At the same time, he cursed and replied to the question on the phone, saying, "Who cares who I am? Believe me or not. If this person is not important, then don't come."

The tinkerer, not interested in talking anymore, didn't even bother hanging up the phone. He handed the phone directly to the guy who was holding the gun to him. He responded with the same contemptuous look, saying, "You didn't dare to do that even after I gave you a chance. You're such a loser."

"What have you done! What the hell did you do to me!" the fat old white man shouted like crazy.

The repairman returned to the operating table and slowly clamped the stitches, finally preparing to end the operation. He said casually, "I just wanted to test whether your name is really that famous. Anyone who asks you will know it."

"Look, maybe even if I just say Andrew Saxon, the police won't know who I am. By the time I'm done with the surgery, I'll be at your disposal.

"So take a gamble, Mr. Saxon. Bet on whether you really hold such an important position in the eyes of the police. Or bet that the police will be too late and never catch the criminal. Are there any corrupt police officers on the inside that you have bribed? If not, it won't work.

"How can you be considered a boss if you don't have a few informants in the police force? Look, if something like today happens, it's one thing to have no one to protect you, but if you don't even have someone to tip you off, that's a real shame."

The fat old man yelled viciously, "You unlicensed doctor, do you think you'll be alright if you get caught by the police for operating on someone else? I'm telling you, if I get caught, you can't escape either."

"If you finish the surgery first and the police haven't arrived yet, do you think you still have a chance of survival? Don't think you can just leave me there and wait for the police to come.

"Hey, you guys, keep an eye on this damn pickled radish! If he stops, don't worry about anything else and just kill him! Also, everyone else, pack up and get the car ready. We're moving base."

Andrew Saxon was a man of decisive action. He quickly issued orders, mobilizing all his men. Everyone rushed to drive and move things, taking what they could and abandoning what they couldn't.

The white guy who invited the repairman was now holding a gun and pointing it at the back of the head of the damn surgeon.

He had wanted to kill this guy for a long time, but he couldn't do it on his own without the boss's approval. Especially when the boss's life was in his hands, it was unclear who he was trying to kill by killing the doctor.

Now that he had received the order, there was no reason not to act. So he watched the tinker's movements closely.

Of course, the tinkerer wasn't making this call randomly. Emergency call centers back then weren't directly connected to computers like they are today. When a call came in, the recipient's phone number and approximate location would instantly appear on the screen.

Emergency call centers today rely more on manual operations by operators. When a call involves a critical case or a special situation, multiple people might answer the call, but only one person would respond.

What makes the fat white man Andrew Saxon proud is that as soon as his name was announced, it indeed attracted the attention of the emergency rescue center staff.

Not only did the center's director answer the call, but the tinker also heard instructions from the background to transfer the call to the FBI.

This means that it's not just the police who might be there; the FBI might also take action. And if the matter escalates to the federal level, there shouldn't be a situation where they treat it as a false alarm and then refuse to respond...

I think so.

Since arriving in this world, the Tinker has only ever dealt with the sheriff of a small town in Alaska. He truly has no idea how efficient the LAPD is. He also wonders if there are any psychotic operators who ignore every incoming call as fake news.

With the response from the emergency center, the tinker widened his focus, allowing him to hear the radio notification tone of a police car several kilometers away and the emergency dispatch.

The nearest police officer received instructions not to rush in directly, but to first block several main routes leading out of the warehouse area.

The reason for not sending someone to report the location and check the situation first was probably that I didn't intentionally disconnect the phone when I handed it over to the repairman. The young man who answered the phone didn't notice this either, he was just anxious to point the gun at someone.

Andrew Saxon's words and curses were enough for the person on the other end of the phone to make many judgments.

Thanks to Jijing Defeng for the reward

Chapter 235 The Surgery is Finally Completed