Hey guys, I was trying to be careful with my wording in the last chapter and I am so sorry if that causes confusion or unclarity instead.

Mew-Star-Mew: hey! long time not hearing from you ^^ she has her reasons why she didn't fight back, which will be explained in this chapter.

teamBLAZE: yeah, so sorry about the description again. I sort-of implied by saying he had dark fingers, but I guess I have to make it more obvious the next time...?

Guest: Thank you for the input, I have edited the last document to include some indication of her being in pain, which strangely I had missed when I first posted it. Reine's left ankle was shot to prevent her from getting out from the OR, causing her to fall down.


"Your time starts now."

Neil didn't move. He glared at the elder Jackson, but Jackson immediately pressed his gun against Reine's neck, "C'mon! Time is ticking!"

Reine gave him a small nod and Neil took a deep breath, "Laughlin. Keep up." He said before suddenly getting back to what he had been doing before, but with an increased speed. Georgia, who usually was able to keep up with Neil's speed, now was struggling.

All the interns were transfixed by the sudden acceleration of Neil's pace. However, operation was a team-centred procedure. No matter how fast Neil could finish his part, he had to compensate for the other team members who were not as fast.

The elder Jackson glanced at the timer. He smirked.

Right when ten minutes was up, another shot was heard. This time, it was Reine's right shin sideways. Reine could feel the bullet shot past through her right leg, crushing the lower part of her tibia, then entering her left and blood began to pool around her leg. She bit her lip, fighting not to scream. When she looked up all the interns were looking at her, "Your job is to… observe the operation," she said while trying to control her breathing, "not watching people get shot. So… do your job."

They were reluctant to look away. "Guys, your job." She reminded again, this time sterner while nodding at the operation table.

Another ten minutes, another shot. This time, it was further up from the previous shot, but still on her right tibia region. Again, it managed to pass through her right and entered her left leg—a condition sometimes called as 'ABC' wound (when a bullet entered the body, exited, then re-entered in one line of fire).

The moment that shot was fired, Neil stopped working just for a split moment before resuming under the same, if not increasing, speed.

Reine struggled not to scream so that the team wouldn't be distracted—and to not give Neil's auditory memory something unpleasant to remember. She glanced down, trying to get a good look on the gun being used. 9mm Browning Hi Power, she thought, 13 rounds per magazine. He already shot five… that means max eight more?

Reine looked around. There were too many interns, too many sensitive equipment around. There was no guarantee that she could knock him down without him accidentally firing his gun.

And it's not exactly funny if he accidentally fired it at his own brother, the one he had desperately wanted to save.

Eight more bullets, that's if it was fully loaded before his first shot. I could make it… maybe.

Ten more minutes had passed, and the next bullet pierced Reine's right knee from sideway at an upward angle—right at where the corner where it bent. This time, it was harder for her to restrain her from screaming, but somehow she managed to do it.

Neil stopped again, but he immediately picked up relentlessly. It was getting extremely difficult to keep up with his pace, but it was understandable.

He wasn't called the Hands of Asclepius for nothing.

But as more shot piercing the internist he had tried to save earlier, the toll began to build up both physically and mentally. Despite his calm outlook, inwardly, Neil had been telling himself to keep it together.

This time, Reine was already panting and her head felt light. She knew she might enter haemorrhagic shock soon enough. Reine looked up and Neil was looking at the patient, but his hands began to slow down as the toll began to take over him both physically and mentally.

"I will save this patient."

"Duh, that's your job, Forrester." Reine quipped—she even managed a light laugh. "Do it."

"And you, Reine." He added quietly. A promise to her, a motivation for him.

Reine was taken aback, but she managed to chuckle, "Then my job is… to stay alive, huh?"

There was a heavy silence for a while, but Georgia tried to keep some optimism alive, "That's right, Dr Kreiss!"

The elder Jackson tightened his arm around Reine's neck, but not choking her yet. She glared at him threateningly. "You're tough, chick, I give you that," the elder Jackson whispered, "If you're not white, I might want you."

"You accused him being racist," Reine hissed, "but now you're the one being racist—not that I want you whatsoever."

"No talking back!" he roared as he hit Reine's cheek with the grip of his pistol hard before shooting her leg again—this time, her left knee right from the front. The suddenness of that shot, plus the head-on way it hit her knee, caused Reine almost unable to hold her scream, but she immediately bit her lip, reducing it to a sharp yelp as she hit the floor, her scrub now came in a blend of green and red—from her own blood. "Maybe I could even give you a bonus for your smart mouth!" he said while firing another shot at Reine's right thigh. Her body shuddered and bent into fetal position at the impact. She struggled to reach for her bleeding legs, trying to stop her bleeding as tears started to sneak out from her eyes.

Reine panted as she looked up at the newly-fired gun. Five more bullets. But her head now was getting heavy and her vision began to blur.

Maybe she couldn't hold on that much longer.

What would happen if she passed out now? Would he target the interns?

Reine reached out to one of the empty bullet case on the floor and grabbed it just before he yanked her back to stand. This time, he pressed the gun on her pelvis. "You know what happens if it struck this, right?"

Reine put her hand lightly over the gun, so lightly that the elder Jackson didn't notice. "I'm scared…" she whispered, only to the elder Jackson.

"Oh, finally acting like a chick, huh?" he said, smirking. "After all those tough girl mask, you're just another chick, huh?"

Reine glanced at the timer. Five more minutes to the next interval. She tried to regulate her breathing and tried to gather enough power in her remaining two limbs while ignoring the burning pain in her legs.

After five minutes, the elder Jackson proceeded to pull the trigger, this time aiming at her pelvis. However, there was no shot. He tried to pull the trigger again, but still no fire.

Reine used this opening to hit his throat as hard as she could with her elbow while throwing her whole body to him, smashing him to the empty wall behind them. She pressed him there, making sure that he was out before releasing him. Both the elder Jackson and Reine slid down the wall. He lied limp as Reine tried to roll away from him, panting in relief as the pain in her legs began to spread.

Her strategy worked. She had slid the slider slightly open when she touched the gun earlier, and she slipped the empty casing she had taken from the floor. That way, the elder Jackson caused a double-feeding to his own gun when he wanted to fire the next round—his gun unable to fully eject the bullet due to the jam she had created, giving her the opening to unleash the energy she had been building up for the last five minutes.

The interns immediately came crowding over her, trying to stop her bleeding. However, the overwhelming crowd of worried and frantic interns made it hard for Reine to breathe. "...ace…" she murmured while wriggling to get what she wanted. "…space..."

Georgia glanced at Neil. "I can hold up here, doctor." She assured him. "It's almost done, anyway." Neil stared at her and Georgia nodded reassuringly.

Neil put down his tools. However, at the same time the door to the OR was opened and Mark, who had been running down from the gallery the moment Reine had turned the tides, came rushing in. They rushed to her, but Mark managed to pick her up first.

Both surgeons glared at each other. "Clearly my field." Neil declared.

Reine, in her fading vision, could vaguely see Neil in front of her, but she couldn't hear what he said since her ears were still buzzing due to all the close-distance firing sound. But, she could feel Mark against her head, and his arms that were carrying her. She could feel he cradled her crushed knees very carefully, as if she was a piece of porcelain.

"I got her, Neil." Mark retorted.

Neil saw her eyes. They were hazy, unfocused—the usual brilliant green was now dim. She was drenched in sweat and blood—the bottom half of her scrubs was now practically dark red.

This was no time to argue.

Neil stepped back and walked out.


Maybe this is the hardest operation Neil has ever faced in his entire career in trauma surgery.

And he was left with Mark's declaration: "I got her,"

What will happen next?

Stay tuned to find out!

Thanks for reading! Please rate and review!