Jack's New Protocol
The next afternoon, Belle arrived at the clinic through the back alley, hood up, walking with a practiced, almost theatrical slowness—just as Jack had instructed.
Jack was already waiting, leaning against the table, arms crossed.
Hetty sat on a stool with her legs crossed, twirling a scalpel like a knife fighter.
Fagin smoked in the corner, eyes squinting through the haze.
Jack didn't waste time.
"Good. You're here. We start."
Belle straightened, sensing the seriousness in his tone.
Jack slid a stack of papers onto the table. Not medical charts—plans. Diagrams. Maps of the streets. Lists of names. Rotations.
Belle's heartbeat quickened.
"Is this… for us?"
Jack nodded.
"It's time our little group started acting like a proper operation."
Hetty smirked.
"Told you the boy's finally using his brains."
Fagin grunted in agreement.
Jack ignored them and continued.
1. NEW RULE: No One Moves Alone
Jack tapped the first page.
"From this moment forward, no member of our group walks to or from the hospital without at least one shadow following behind to check for tails."
Belle blinked.
"You mean… we follow each other home?"
"Yes. Quietly. Invisibly. You're not just a surgeon in training anymore—you're part of something bigger."
Hetty added:
"Sydney's full of eyes. Some friendly, most not. Even nobles get dragged into trouble."
Belle nodded slowly.
She understood.
2. NEW RULE: New Identities for Each Member
Jack placed a small cloth bundle on the table and opened it.
Inside were hair dyes, false ribbons, cheap glasses, and small props that changed appearance just enough.
Belle gasped softly.
"You made disguises… for all of us?"
Jack nodded.
"You already know how effective identity is. If someone spots you going into the same abandoned warehouse every day, questions start."
Fagin chuckled.
"I've lived fifty years by changing names like shirts."
Jack continued:
"You'll rotate three identities—a seamstress, a tutor, and a merchant's niece. Simple. Invisible. Normal."
Belle was impressed—and scared.
"So you're preparing… for war?"
Jack didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
3. NEW RULE: Clinic Access Is Now Tiered
Jack lifted a wooden box from under the table and unlocked it.
Inside were keys—three sets of three, each marked with colored wax seals.
"From now on," Jack said, "the clinic has levels."
Hetty raised an eyebrow.
"Oh? Is the boy turning into a king now?"
Jack ignored the jab.
"Red key — unrestricted access. Only me."
"Yellow key — limited access. Hetty and Belle."
"Blue key — outer access. Fagin and our artisans."
Belle frowned.
"What does that mean?"
"Red accesses everything. Yellow allows the surgical floor and the herb storage. Blue can only open the entrance and supply room."
Belle realized the implication.
"So if one of us is captured—"
Jack finished:
"They can't give away what they don't know."
A cold silence fell.
This was no longer a game.
This was survival.
4. NEW RULE: Silent Signals
Jack unfurled a long strip of paper with symbols drawn neatly in ink.
"A knock pattern on the door. Three short, one long. That's ours. Anything else—you run."
Hetty nodded.
"And the chalk marks on the walls?"
"Right." Jack pointed.
"A circle means safe.
A slash means followed.
A cross means scatter."
Belle swallowed.
"What if the soldiers learn the signals?"
Jack smirked faintly.
"They won't. These aren't normal codes. They come from a place far away."
Belle narrowed her eyes.
"You mean—"
"Yes."
"From the world I learned my skills."
Belle shivered.
It felt like touching forbidden fire.
5. NEW RULE: Absolute Denial
Jack's face hardened.
"Final rule. If captured, if questioned, if confronted—"
He placed his hand flat on the table.
"—you deny ever knowing a doctor. Not me. Not the clinic. Nothing. You weren't chosen. You weren't trained. You and I are strangers."
Belle whispered:
"That's cruel."
Jack's expression didn't change.
"It's how we live."
Belle lowered her head.
But she accepted it.
Jack Looks at Belle
"And you…" he said softly, almost gently, "must stop letting people see how much you've changed. You're too smart. Too focused. Too dangerous."
Belle swallowed.
"I… I'll try."
"No. You will succeed," Jack said.
"I need you alive."
Belle felt heat rise in her cheeks—but also a tremor of fear.
Because Jack never used the word need unless it meant life or death.
The Meeting Ends
Jack clapped his hands once.
"Good. Now let's get to work."
Belle tied her hair back.
Hetty prepared the instruments.
Fagin locked the doors.
Their world had changed, and Sydney didn't know it yet.
But soon… they would.
Blood, Secrets, and a Knife's Edge
The night began like any other at the clinic—quiet, shadowed, hidden behind boarded windows and misleading signs.
But inside, the air was taut with danger.
Hetty sterilized tools over low flame.
Belle tied her hair back, hands trembling—not from fear, but anticipation.
Jack washed his hands in silence, eyes focused, mind sharpened.
Then the knock came.
Three short.
One long.
Their signal.
Hetty opened the door.
A man stumbled inside, supported by two rough-looking dock workers. His shirt was soaked—dark, nearly black with blood.
Belle's eyes widened.
Jack stepped forward instantly.
"What happened?"
"A fight at the docks," one of the men whispered. "Bloke got stabbed deep. Near the ribs."
Jack exhaled sharply.
A thoracic puncture. Close to the lung. Maybe the heart. Life or death.
And in this century… almost guaranteed death.
But not with him.
He gestured to the table.
"Put him down."
The men obeyed, backing away nervously.
Belle swallowed.
Hetty braced herself.
Jack snapped:
"Belle—gloves. Hetty—boiling water. Now."
The Surgery Begins
Jack ripped the man's shirt aside.
A deep, narrow wound.
Bleeding heavily.
Belle gasped.
"That's—"
"Yes," Jack cut in. "A lung hit."
The man coughed, spraying blood.
Hetty muttered,
"He's going to drown on his own blood if we don't move fast."
Jack already had his eyes shifting…
…changing…
…focusing.
Transparent World activated.
Belle watched, breath stolen, as Jack's pupils sharpened—like a predator locking onto prey.
The world inside the patient opened to him—
fluttering organs,
straining vessels,
the trembling lung leaking air and blood.
Jack whispered:
"Scalpel."
Belle handed it to him without hesitation.
Hetty tightened the straps.
Jack cut with precision no one in this century could dream of.
Belle watched in awe—
every movement smooth,
every decision instantaneous,
every incision perfect.
But things took a turn.
The wounded man convulsed violently, nearly rolling off the table.
Belle grabbed his shoulders.
Hetty pinned his legs.
Jack cursed.
"He's going into shock."
Belle shouted:
"What do we do?!"
Jack's mind raced.
This century had no proper anesthesia.
No blood transfusions.
No machines.
Just him.
And his breathing.
Sun Breathing: First Form — Improvised
Jack inhaled deeply.
Slow. Controlled.
Muscles tightening and expanding.
Belle felt the air change.
Felt heat radiate from him.
Felt the room pulse.
Jack exhaled and pressed two fingers to the wound, sealing a blood vessel by pressure alone.
"Belle," he commanded, "hold this clamp. Hetty, sponge."
Their hands moved as one.
And for the first time—they worked like a true surgical unit.
Jack's voice cut through the chaos:
"Belle, keep his airway open. If he aspirates blood, he dies."
Belle knelt by the man's head, turning him slightly and keeping his mouth clear.
Hetty wiped blood from Jack's fingers, sweat running down her forehead.
Jack's breathing deepened.
Second Form.
Third Form.
He didn't even realize he was shifting between them.
He stitched the torn lung tissue in a technique far beyond anything this world possessed.
Minutes felt like hours.
Finally—
Jack tied the final knot.
"Done."
Hetty collapsed onto a stool.
Belle looked at Jack with something between fear and reverence.
"If… if you hadn't been here…" she whispered.
Jack wiped his hands.
"He'd be dead. Easily."
But that wasn't the real problem.
Belle saw it before Jack said a word.
The two dock workers who brought the man stared at Jack, pale with terror.
"T-That's not normal," one whispered.
"No surgeon moves like that…"
"No surgeon sees like that…"
Belle stepped back.
"Oh no…"
Jack's eyes narrowed.
They had seen too much.
The Panic
The men backed toward the exit.
"We won't say anything—swear it—just let us go—"
Hetty cursed under her breath.
"Jack?!"
Belle whispered:
"Are you going to kill them?"
Jack didn't answer.
He stepped forward slowly, mechanically, like a shadow.
The men trembled.
Belle held her breath.
And then—
Jack unlocked the clinic door and opened it.
"Get out."
They blinked.
Shocked.
"You're… letting us go?"
Jack nodded.
"But if you speak a word about what you saw tonight…"
His voice dropped to a chilling whisper—
"…I will know."
Belle felt the temperature of the room drop.
Hetty shivered.
The dock workers ran.
Aftermath
Belle stared at Jack.
"You're trusting them?"
"No."
"Then why—"
"Because fear," Jack said calmly, "is a stronger leash than death. Dead men tell no tales… but terrified men stay loyal permanently."
Belle slowly nodded.
Hetty murmured:
"You're ruthless."
Jack didn't deny it.
He walked to the patient, checked the stitches, then turned to his team.
"This surgery… changed everything."
Belle frowned.
"How?"
"Because after tonight," Jack said, voice low, "people will start talking."
Hetty froze.
Belle exhaled shakily.
"The city will hear rumors… about a doctor who performs miracles."
Jack looked at the bloodied table.
And he whispered:
"And that puts us all at risk."
The Walls Begin to Close
Two things happened the very next day.
Two things Jack had feared since the moment the dock workers fled his clinic with terror in their eyes.
And both arrived faster than expected.
Part I — Soldiers in the Shadows
The sun had barely climbed over the rooftops when uniformed boots began marching through the back alleys of Sydney.
Not the usual lazy patrols.
Not the bored rookies.
These were armed, alert, and searching.
Hetty spotted them first while heading to the hospital.
She froze behind a stack of crates, watching two soldiers whisper:
"Orders from Captain Gaines."
"We're looking for a… what was it—'miracle doctor'?"
"A surgeon who can stitch lungs shut like sewing cloth."
"Sounds like devilry to me."
Their voices carried a mixture of awe and suspicion—dangerous emotions in equal measure.
Hetty's heart jumped into her throat.
Jack. This is because of last night.
She kept her head down and hurried to the hospital, blood pumping fast.
At the Hospital
Jack was reviewing charts when Hetty burst inside, panting.
"Jack," she whispered sharply, "we have a problem."
Jack glanced up.
One look at her face, and he knew.
The walls were closing in.
"How many?" he asked calmly.
"Two squads. Maybe more coming. They're walking the alleys—your alleys."
Jack exhaled slowly.
Predictable.
Dangerous—but manageable.
Belle overheard from across the room and rushed over.
"Did someone talk?" she asked.
Jack shook his head.
"No. The dock workers are terrified—they won't dare speak. But gossip spreads without words."
Hetty nodded grimly.
"A bleeding man goes home breathing normally? That gets tongues wagging."
Belle looked worried.
"What do we do?"
Jack smiled slightly—cold, calculated.
"We adapt. And we make a new plan."
Part II — The Fox Mother Investigation
While soldiers hunted the miracle doctor…
…Belle Fox's mother hunted someone else entirely.
Her daughter.
For the past week, Belle had returned home later than usual.
Her once social, party-loving girl now came home with ink-stained hands, tired eyes, and a jaw set with determination.
Lady Fox noticed.
Mothers always notice.
That morning, Belle disappeared again as soon as she finished hospital rounds.
Her mother called her youngest daughter.
"Follow your sister. Quietly. And do not let her see you."
Belle's sister grinned mischievously.
"With pleasure."
The Shadowing Begins
Belle walked briskly through the streets, medical bag in hand.
Not to the library.
Not to her friends' houses.
She moved with purpose, slipping into an alley behind the butcher shop.
Her sister frowned from a safe distance.
"Why is she going there…?"
Belle took a turn into a narrow lane…
…and then vanished.
"What?!"
Her sister hurried forward, searching every corner—
Then she noticed something odd.
A brick.
Slightly out of place.
Like someone pressed it just minutes earlier.
She reached for it—
Meanwhile, Inside the Clinic District…
Jack arrived first, disguised as always—hair blackened, mask ready.
Hetty arrived next.
Belle last.
She closed the door behind her.
"We're all here," Belle said. "We should—"
A faint click echoed from outside.
Jack's eyes sharpened instantly.
"Someone touched the hidden brick."
Belle froze.
"That's… impossible. Only our group knows—"
Jack cut her off.
"Belle. Who followed you?"
Her face went pale.
"My mother… asked my sister to watch me yesterday. But today—"
Hetty cursed.
"Oh god. She did follow you."
Jack's breathing slowed, controlled.
He moved toward the back entrance.
"Belle, stay inside. Hetty—dim the lamps."
Belle grabbed his arm.
"Jack—don't hurt her. She's just a girl. She doesn't know."
Jack didn't answer.
But his silence was enough.
He wouldn't kill an innocent.
But he would erase suspicion.
Outside, Belle's Sister Stepped Deeper Into the Alley
She whispered to herself:
"Where did she go…?"
She touched the brick again.
Nothing.
But then—
A faint, metallic clink behind her made her spin.
Jack stepped from the shadows silently.
Belle's sister gasped and stumbled back.
"You—! Who are—?!"
Jack tilted his head.
"Just a man walking home."
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
She swallowed.
"I-I was looking for my sister. Belle. She came this way."
Jack studied her—every heartbeat, every breath.
Transparent World activated subtly.
She wasn't lying.
But she was curious.
Curious enough to ruin everything.
Jack stepped closer.
"You shouldn't wander these alleys, miss. Dangerous men pass through here."
She didn't back away.
"My sister came here. I know she did."
Jack kept his mask on, voice low.
"If she did, she must have had a good reason."
Belle's sister narrowed her eyes.
"Do you know her? Do you know where she went?"
Jack leaned just close enough for his words to be a whisper:
"I know nothing of your sister…
…and you should forget you ever came here."
Her breath caught.
His presence—calm, surgical, predatory—terrified her without a single threat spoken.
Then Belle's voice rang from the corner:
"Sister! What are you doing?"
Jack stepped back into the alley shadows, vanishing.
Belle rushed forward, grabbing her sister's arms.
"You can't be here. Not in this part of town."
Her sister looked around frantically.
"There was a man—dark hair, a mask—he spoke to me—"
Belle shook her head.
"No one was here. You're imagining things. These streets echo strangely."
"But I—Belle—"
"Go home," Belle said firmly, voice trembling.
"I'll explain later."
She dragged her sister away from the hidden entrance.
Behind them, unseen…
Jack watched silently.
Back at the Clinic
Belle returned shaking.
Hetty asked,
"What happened?"
Belle looked at Jack.
"She saw you, didn't she?"
Jack nodded.
"But she'll remember nothing clearly. Fear clouds memory better than any drug."
Belle sat down, burying her face in her hands.
"My family… my mother… if she finds out—"
Jack crouched beside her, voice calm.
"She won't. We're careful. You're careful. This won't happen again."
Belle looked up at him—eyes full of fear, frustration, but also trust.
"Just… tell me what to do."
And Jack did.
Because from now on…
her family wasn't the only one watching.
The Crown was hunting the miracle doctor.
And Belle's mother was hunting her daughter's secrets.
The walls were truly closing in.