Vice didn't pass out like he'd thought he would. The vertigo had hit hard, dropping him to the floor of the operating theater, but instead of fading to black, strength seeped back into his limbs—slow, shaky, like a battery flickering to life. He hauled himself up, leaning against the cold wall, as the nurses and Dr. Nam draped a white sheet over the patient's still form.
His stomach twisted as he watched, hands still stained with blood under the gloves. This was what he'd become a doctor to stop. He knew death came for everyone—life wasn't forever—but he'd vowed to stand in the way of accidents, tragedies, fates that didn't have to happen, like his grandmother's.
The memory clawed its way up unbidden: her frail arms pulling him close, her voice whispering his name as warm blood soaked through her shirt, pooling on the floor. A car crash, a drunk driver, a surgery that couldn't save her. Vice had been ten, helpless, watching her fade. He shook his head hard, shoving it back down. 'Not now. Not here.'
Guilt and doubt churned in his chest, a deep, churning well that threatened to drown him. He'd failed—his first day, his first patient, gone. Then he remembered that voice—the cold, mechanical thing that had pierced his mind right before the vertigo. He glanced around the theater, half-expecting some glowing figure to materialize, but saw only the nurses working in somber silence, wheeling the body out. Vice stood there, breath ragged, willing his heart to stop hammering.
Dr. Nam approached, snapping him out of his spiral. "You did well, Doctor Vice," he said, voice hollow and rough with exhaustion. "I was the one at fault here."
Vice opened his mouth to argue—'No, I should've–' – but Nam cut him off with a heavy clap on the shoulder. "Take a break in the resting ward. I'll call if anything comes up." The head doctor trudged out, shoulders slumped, disappearing into the bustle beyond the theater doors.
Vice nodded mutely, following the order like it was a lifeline. He wove through the Truman Centre, dodging stretchers and staff, hoping to slip past Lisa's eagle eyes. No chance—she pounced like a cat on a mouse. "Don't sweat it, Vice," she said, her tone softer than her usual teasing. She pressed a bubble gum into his palm and pulled him into a quick, light hug. "Don't tell your cousin about this, okay?"
A faint smile tugged at his lips despite everything. "Thanks," he muttered, pocketing the gum. Lisa's warmth was a small anchor in the storm. He set off for the resting ward, frustration building as he wandered the hospital's labyrinth. 'Why didn't I just ask someone?' he cursed himself, his lack of social grace biting him again. By the time he found the ward—five floors up, tucked behind a maze of corridors—he was sweaty, exhausted, and muttering under his breath about his own stupidity.
He slipped into the Truman staff ward, found an empty doctor's room, and collapsed onto the narrow bed with a groan. The mattress creaked under him, and he rubbed his face, trying to shake the weight of the day. Then, as if it had been waiting for him to stop moving, that voice returned—not just a whisper now, but a cascade of glowing blue text floating before his eyes.
[Medical System Bestowal Completed]
"Jesus!" Vice yelped, bolting upright, the whisper tickling the back of his ears like a ghost.
[You have been found worthy of hosting the system. Do not disappoint the heavens.]
His stomach dropped, horror creeping up his spine as the voice pressed on, relentless.
[Quest Received: Unlocking the System]
[You have been found worthy. Now, prove it. A medical practitioner does not rest; he saves lives. Assist Dr. Nam with minor cases in the Truman Centre. (0/10) Time remaining: 4h 29min]
'Am I losing my mind?' Vice couldn't even finish the thought. The system felt more real than the blood on his gloves—sharp, commanding, undeniable.
[Reward: System Unlock.]
[Cost of Failure: Resignation from the medical career.]
"Resignation?" Vice shot to his feet, eyes darting over the text. 'Not just Bao—my whole career?' The stakes hit him like a punch. Everything he'd worked for—years of late nights, missing Kai's soccer games, Lila's recitals, all for this—gone if he failed. He bolted from the ward, legs pumping as he raced through the hospital. The resting ward was five floors above the Truman Centre, and every glance at his watch—4h 25min now—sent his heart into overdrive.
He missed two elevators, cursing as doors slid shut in his face, and opted for the stairs instead. He stumbled down, nearly tripping twice, his neatly tied hair unraveling into a wild mess. By the time he burst into the Truman Centre, sweat beaded on his forehead, his white coat askew. Lisa spotted him instantly, smirking.
"Ah, you're gonna be single for a long time yet," she said, eyeing his disheveled state.
"Good for me," Vice huffed, catching his breath. "And you're gonna be single forever."
"You!" Lisa yelped, mock-offended, striking a dramatic pose—hands on hips, chin tilted like some goddess of sass. She paused, then waved him off. "I'll let you off this once."
Vice didn't linger for round two. He pushed deeper into the Centre, finding Dr. Nam hunched over a stack of charts. The head doctor's tired eyes lit up with surprise. "Back already? I'm impressed, Vice. Didn't expect you to shake that off so fast."
'If only you knew,' Vice thought, forcing a nod. "Just want to help," he replied silently from the nurses looking his way
Nam clapped him on the shoulder again, this time with a flicker of pride. "Good man. We've got minor cases piling up—sprains, fevers, a kid with a cut. Check on them, and ease the load. I'll handle the big stuff."
Vice dove in, the blue text hovering in his vision like a silent taskmaster. (0/10). First up was a middle-aged man with a twisted ankle—grumbling about a bad step off a curb. Vice wrapped it, gave him care tips, and sent him off. (1/10).
Next was a feverish, flushed, and tired woman who just needed fluids and rest. He adjusted her IV, his hands steadier than he'd expected. (2/10).
A kid with a gash on his knee came third—big eyes staring up as Vice stitched it, chatting nervously about soccer to keep him calm. (3/10). 'Kai'd like this kid,' he thought, a small smile breaking through.
The rhythm took hold. A construction worker with a bruised hand (4/10), an old lady with a nagging cough (5/10), a teen with a sprained wrist from skateboarding (6/10).
Each case chipped away at the guilt from earlier, replacing it with something solid. He caught sight of a nurse—bright smile, quick hands—handing him a chart, and his face heated up. 'Focus, Vice,' he scolded himself, nearly dropping it. Another nurse, sharp-eyed and pretty, brushed past later, and he fumbled a pen at her smile at him. 'Great. Real smooth.'
Lisa popped in between patients, tossing him a grin. "Not bad, Doctor Vice. You're almost competent."
"Almost?" he shot back, a bit low, due to all the attention coming their way. but her laugh eased the knot in his chest. Dr. Nam swung by too, gruff but approving. "Keep this up, and you might survive this place." Vice nodded, the praise sinking deeper than he'd admit.
By the time he hit (10/10)—an old man with a sprained wrist, thanking him profusely as Vice taped it up—the day shift was winding down. Yet the process still continued until his watch read 6:47 PM, the quest timer at a safe had long run out yet no message had noted that fact. Exhaustion tugged at his bones, but he felt lighter. 'I did something,' he thought, pride flickering through the doubt.
Outside, the cool evening air hit him like a balm. Lisa stretched beside him. "Long day," she said. "You heading home?"
"Yeah," Vice replied, flagging down a cab for her. She hopped in with a wave—"See you tomorrow, hero"—and he grabbed the next one. The ride was quiet, Feng Mo City's lights streaking past the window. He slumped in the seat, replaying the day—the failure, the panic, the small victories.
The cab rolled to a stop outside his modest apartment, a squat traditional building wedged between a noodle shop and a laundromat. He paid the driver, stepped out, and fumbled for his keys.
As he crossed the threshold, that mechanical voice returned, crisp and final:
[Quest Completed: Unlocking the System. (10/10)]
[Reward: System Unlock. Welcome, Dr. Vice Xong, to the path of mastery.]
Vice froze, hand on the doorknob. 'It's real,' he thought, heart pounding