"So, remember kids," the gruff instructor, Doctor Kittisak, said as he cast a steely look over his class. "If you're dealing with a stab wound in the field, and the knife is still in there, do not try to remove the blade! Thakur!" He barked at a student sitting in the front row, causing him to jump. "Why should you not remove the blade in the field?"

Malee Thakur, another EMT student who had been doodling on the edge of his notebook, looked dumbfounded for about half a second too long.

"Congratulations, Mister Thakur!" Kittisak barked again. "Your patient just bled out on the street and got your nice-white panties all dirty! I'd say it looks like your time of the month! Well at least we know you're not pregnant! You can shag your boyfriend just one more time! I hope he likes red pussy! Okajima!"

Rock sat up a little straighter. Kittisak, the former army medic turned EMT instructor, wasn't known for being easy or forgiving.

"Why should you not attempt to remove the knife if you encounter a stab wound in the field?"

Rock took a deep breath. He had developed this tactic whenever under stress, especially under Kittisak's questions. That extra half-second of thinking often saved his neck.

A sudden memory of Revy's scream after being impaled by a samurai sword flashed through his hippocampus.

"Because the resulting blood loss could result in unconsciousness and death, sir!"

"Outstanding! Mister Okajima!" Kittisak replied. "You have successfully managed to not kill your patient. Now, what should you do instead?"

Rock took another deep breath. He had a sudden flash of tying Revy's leg with his tie.

"Stabilize the wound. Control the bleeding by applying direct pressure around the wound. Elevate the wound above the heart. Transport the patient to hospital for further treatment," Rock answered.

"Would you use a tourniquet?" Kittisak demanded.

Rock took another deep breath.

"Only if it's arterial bleeding that doesn't stop with direct pressure. If you use a tourniquet, place it three to five inches above the wound and tighten it until you see the bleeding stop."

"Ouchie!" Kittisak barked again, causing them all to jump. "Your patient says it's too tight, but you still see bleeding. What do you do?"

Rock took another deep breath.

"Reassure the patient, but explain that I have to stop the bleeding. Then tighten until it stops."

"Congratulations, Mister Okajima!" Kittisak barked. "Your patient lives another day!"

Rock breathed a sigh of relief as he settled back in his chair. Kittisak launched into another lecture.

It had been about two months since his arrival at the training school for EMTs and Rock had to admit it was going quite well. His routine was always the same. After each day of training he'd retire to his room and review his notes from that day's lessons until he could repeat them from memory. If he felt like working out, he'd go and practice on the CPR dummy. He'd also read the chapter for the next day. Often, he'd crawl into bed after midnight only to rise before dawn, but he managed. It didn't hurt that he had seen many of the injuries they were learning about firsthand. Stab wounds, gunshot wounds, concussions, blunt-force trauma, burns, and a host of other violent injuries appeared in his textbooks but he'd already seen them all. The corpses they were shown in the morgue to study those injuries simply served as reminders. Time was such things would have nauseated him, but the knowledge that he was learning how to treat those injuries helped to settle his stomach.

"I'm building my own strength," he thought to himself as he blew into the CPR dummy's mouth after the day's lessons were over and positioned himself for another round of compressions. Would Balalaika be impressed if she could see him now? Rock liked to think so.

He had just placed his hands over the dummy's heart again when something heavy and flat smashed into the back of his head. Dazed, sprawled forward over the dummy, Rock scrambled to pull himself together before another kick landed on his back.

"Think you're so fucking better than me, you fuckin' Jap?!" He heard Malee's voice from somewhere over his head.

Rock didn't answer. He turned himself over and just in time and managed to use the practice dummy to block Malee's next kick.

"Fuck you!" his attacker yelled again. "Go back to Japan! Fucking Jap!"

Rock didn't answer. Through the headache from the first kick he focused on his defense. When it became clear that he was able to use the practice dummy to block most of Malee's kicks, the enraged EMT student dropped on top of him to use his fists.

"Stop!" A voice bellowed from the other side of the room.

Malee froze, so did Rock. They both recognized that voice. It was Kittisak, and for the first time ever Rock was glad to hear his yell.

One viewing of the security camera footage later and Malee's medical career was over. Rock sat in Kittisak's office holding an ice-pack to the back of his head. The instructor looked at him from over his desk.

"How are you feeling?"

Rock shrugged.

"Eh, I'm okay. My head and back hurt, but that's all."

Kittisak nodded.

"I'll get you in for a CT scan later. You might be concussed. You can have tomorrow off if you want it."

He paused for a moment, then leaned forward.

"Do you intend to quit this program?"

Rock shook his head as well as he could without losing the ice-pack.

"No."

Kittisak nodded.

"Good. I just lost one bad student, I'd rather not lose a good one."

Two months went by and the final exams came and went. Of a class of three-hundred and twenty six students, Rock finished third. Kittisak actually smiled as he handed Rock his license and certificate.

"Well done," he growled as he shook Rock's hand, with what Rock could've sworn was actual pride in his eyes.

Rock might as well have just been crowned king of the earth. He didn't remember much of that night, nor did anyone else. The next day he downed some aspirin to fight the hangover and went to Kittisak's office to find out his assignment.

"Ahh, Okajima," Kittisak grumbled over his file. "Got something special here for you. Have a seat."

Rock sat in front of his desk as Kittisak dug another file out of a drawer. He opened it and passed it to Rock.

"You ever hear of Roanapur?" Kittisak asked him.

Rock's heart rose.

"Yes sir!" he responded.

"What do you know about it?"

Rocks' eyes darted left. He probably knew more about Roanapur than Kittisak could guess, but how much of it could he safely divulge?

He took a deep breath. In the time it took for him to inhale he decided to be as bland and factual as possible.

"It's a city on the coast. There are quite a few fishermen. The police chiefs' name is Watsap. His lieutenant is a man named Saensak. There's a catholic church. It's run by a woman named Yolanda. There's also a bar called the Yellow Flag. The bartender is a man named Bao."

Kittisak narrowed his eyes.

"Hmm. Awfully detailed. You been there before?"

"Yes sir. My last job I worked in an office there."

Kittisak nodded, then sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers.

"You're right about the Chief's name. Watsup has been requesting a new medic for his unit for a while now. We've been holding off on sending anyone because, frankly, I'm not in the habit of sending new medics where they're just going to quit after a month. That's what happened to the last three we sent. They won't say why, but everyone knows that town's rotten."

He fixed Rock with a look.

"If you've been there before, you know."

Rock nodded.

"I'm well aware of the violence of the city, sir. It won't be a problem."

Kittisak surveyed him for a moment. Then, slowly, he nodded.

"Plenty of students would've dropped out, you know, after the incident with Thakur. People don't go down this path to dodge punches while saving lives. It's not in the job description."

Rock leaned forward.

"I came here because I want to save lives, sir. And I can handle the danger. Is that enough?"

Kittisak weighed his words, then nodded again.

"You want the job?"

Rock positively beamed.

"Yes sir!"