"Alright, Dr. Clive, I'll take it from here."
Adam stepped forward, smiling.
"What did you say?"
Alex froze for a moment before erupting in anger. "This is my patient!"
"No."
Adam shook his head. "Your patient is still waiting for a rectal exam. This patient has a gunshot wound—on his shoulder, not his rectum. So, he's not your patient."
"Hey! I like Dr. Clive. I want him as my doctor."
The African American man clearly felt a connection with Alex's rebellious nature. Seeing Adam push Alex aside, he immediately stood up for his friend.
"Sorry," Adam shook his head. "This is the emergency department. I'll contact Dr. Lewis right away."
"I'm not an emergency case!"
The man, full of loyalty, stood up while clutching his wound. "I have an appointment with Dr. Burke, and I want Alex to be my attending physician."
It was clear that he was a regular at the hospital. Not only had he scheduled an appointment with a specific attending physician, but he also understood the concept of an attending doctor.
"I'll contact Dr. Burke for you," Adam said with a smile. "But trust me, even if Dr. Burke comes, Dr. Clive still won't be your attending."
"Why not?"
The man was stunned and looked at Alex, whose face had now turned as dark as his own.
Alex was speechless.
What could he say?
That due to his negligence, one of Dr. Burke's patients nearly died, leading to Burke banning him from the operating room for two weeks? That Dr. Bailey had further punished him by assigning him two weeks of rectal exams?
How could he possibly admit something so humiliating to his "bro"?
"No matter what, I have the right to choose my attending physician."
The man grew more determined. "Alex, don't worry. I know Dr. Burke well—I'll make sure he assigns you as my attending."
Saying that, he extended his hand and made a shaking motion.
Alex reached out and did the same.
It looked very much like the fist-bump gesture popular among African Americans.
Alex's face brightened considerably, and he shot Adam a smug look, as if saying, "Just because you're skilled doesn't mean you can steal my patient."
Adam signaled for the nurse to call Dr. Burke.
"I was hoping to see you under different circumstances, Mr. Owens."
Dr. Burke extended a hand to shake the African American man's.
"Just call me Digby," the man grinned.
"What happened?" Dr. Burke asked Adam.
Adam quickly explained the situation.
"Digby, Dr. Duncan is the best intern we have here."
Dr. Burke cast a cold glance at Alex before turning to Digby with a warm tone. "He will be your attending and oversee your treatment."
"No!"
Digby shook his head. "I only want Dr. Clive."
"Digby, Dr. Clive violated hospital regulations. He won't be able to serve as an attending physician for the time being," Dr. Burke explained. "I'm your doctor, and we've known each other for a long time. Don't you trust my judgment?"
"Come on!"
Digby dramatically exclaimed. "Who doesn't make mistakes when they're young? It's no big deal. Besides, I know my injury—it's just a simple wound closure. I might not even need to be admitted. Letting Alex handle it won't hurt anyone. I trust you, and I trust him."
Dr. Burke sighed and shook his head. In the end, he respected the patient's choice.
"Fine. Dr. Clive, suture the wound, then schedule a CT scan. You're responsible."
When he said this, Dr. Burke's gaze toward Alex was filled with disdain.
Alex, being a seasoned smooth-talker, ignored Dr. Burke completely and pushed Digby's wheelchair toward the patient ward. As he passed Adam, he shot him another provocative glance.
Clap! Clap!
The sound of Alex and Digby high-fiving reached Adam's ears as they walked away.
"Dr. Duncan, you handled that well," Dr. Burke praised Adam.
Adam simply smiled.
"Oh, by the way,"
Dr. Burke glanced in the direction Alex had gone, his expression full of contempt.
"Inform Dr. Bailey that Dr. Clive's rectal exam duty has been extended by another week."
"Got it."
Adam nodded.
Alex thought he could circumvent the punishment and fool everyone.
But was there a single doctor here who was actually stupid?
Especially a top physician like Dr. Burke?
Defying a senior doctor's order while acting like everyone else was a fool? Now that's real stupidity.
### Lunch Hour – Hospital Cafeteria
"Did I hear you tried to steal Alex's patient but failed?"
Cristina plopped down with her tray, wasting no time in getting straight to the gossip.
"No choice," Adam shrugged. "Ran into a patient who's not afraid of dying."
"Tsk tsk, Alex really has a way with people."
Cristina clicked her tongue in amusement. "Yesterday, he nearly conned that woman with the giant tumor, and today he managed to trick a fearless, tattooed masochist right in front of you."
Saying he was fearless might be an exaggeration—more accurately, he was a thrill-seeker.
His shoulder wound? He had his friend aim and shoot him on purpose.
All for the sake of adding a new gunshot scar—an extreme version of tattooing.
And this wasn't even his first time.
Last time, the bullet grazed his armpit.
"This guy is from the Iowa wrestling team," George chimed in. "Apparently, Alex wrestles too. During his exam this morning, I heard them passionately discussing wrestling philosophy.
Stuff like:
'What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.'
'Unless you kill me, you can't defeat me.'
'Pain is a dividing line—it's all about how we handle it.'
Alex even borrowed a camera to take close-up shots of the gunshot wound. The two of them bonded like brothers."
"He's faking it."
Liz sneered. "Just like how he deceived that poor woman with the massive tumor. I'd love for this patient to hear his real thoughts."
"Let's just hope Alex doesn't get too carried away," Adam smirked.
"You know something?"
Cristina's eyes narrowed.
"His first gunshot wound? He kept the bullet inside as a keepsake. This time, the wound caused a rib fracture and a hemothorax."
Adam explained, "Dr. Burke inserted a chest tube to drain the blood and repaired his lung. But a gunshot wound can trigger the body's emergency response. Now imagine—what happens if he has any open wounds elsewhere on his body?"
"Infection!"
Cristina and the others said in unison.
"And what are the chances that a tattooed masochist who worships pain doesn't have other wounds?"
Adam said nonchalantly. "If I were his attending, I'd make sure to check thoroughly. But this is basic medical knowledge—Alex should know too…"
Liz suddenly stood up and ran off, leaving just one sentence behind:
"I don't trust Alex!"
Adam continued eating his meal at a leisurely pace.
Just like Digby had said, this was his choice. His belief.
"What doesn't kill me makes me stronger."
All Adam could do was respect it—and wish him luck.
After all, he wasn't about to lose sleep over 0.01% of someone else's life expectancy.