Lewis didn't seem satisfied, so he added, "Also, from now on, try to act like a professional. Stop behaving like some cowboy doctor."

I paused and looked at him. "Well, then. Can you please tell me what the diagnostic criteria and differential points for stress-induced cardiomyopathy are?"

Lewis froze, stammering, "Uh… Well, that… depends on ECG and echocardiography findings… It's a… kind of…"

I stopped looking at him. He huffed, clearly annoyed, and walked away.

I remembered three years ago when the hospital director, Kelvin Holder, personally came to the state hospital ICU to recruit me.

He'd shaken my hand and said, "Cody, come to our hospital. I'll give you full autonomy. Your CPR skills are top-notch. You can save more lives."

Looking back, it felt like a joke.

…

I'd been demoted to resident, with a lot less responsibility.

I no longer took part in emergency rescues. Instead, I followed the standard residency protocol to the letter. I did my rounds, wrote up charts, and issued medical orders.

I handed over my shift on time and left the second the clock struck.

Yesterday, a car accident patient arrived in critical condition. The nurse called me out of habit. I glanced at her and said calmly, "Go get Dr. Robinson. He's the attending physician now."

The nurse panicked. "Dr. Robinson's in the office! He said he's working on an important academic paper!"

I said nothing and walked out of the ward.

I didn't linger for any critical patients anymore.

After work, for the first time, I skipped the hospital library. I went to a fencing gym instead.

I strapped on the heavy armor, pulled the helmet down, and gripped the cold blade. I let all my anger and frustration out through every thrust and parry.

The next day, Lewis posted a file in the department group chat.

The file was titled "Pilot Guidelines for Standardizing Medical Charts and Aligning with International Documentation Systems".

It was a dozen-page PDF filled with complex charts and definitions, introducing an entirely new medical chart template.

All terms had to use official full titles from the national medical association. No common abbreviations allowed. It even added massive sections for data analysis and references.

The chat went silent.

Seconds later, my phone started blowing up with private messages from colleagues.

"Dr. Parker, what the hell is this guy doing? He wants us to write a chart like it's a thesis?"

"Is he out of his mind? We're treating patients, not publishing papers!"

"Today on rounds, he made the nurse say 'cardiac pulsation frequency' instead of 'heart rate'! Seriously?"

"This isn't aligning with international standards. It's just extra work! By the time he finishes writing this for an emergency patient, they'll be dead!"

"Pure PowerPoint doctor! All talk, no action!"

I stared at Lewis's self-important notice, saying nothing.

An older colleague privately messaged me, asking what some of the "standardized terms" even meant.

I patiently explained, then turned off my phone.

My complete "check-out" attitude sharply contrasted with Lewis' useless micromanagement.

I used to be the backbone of this department. No matter how complicated the emergency, everyone felt secure with me around.

Now, the moment a critical patient arrived, chaos broke out.

Lewis would just stand off to the side, barking orders in all the standard terms from his new guide but never lifting a hand himself.

Colleagues' resentment grew, and some privately started to miss the efficiency and dependability I used to provide.

I knew they were waiting for a real crisis to hit.

…

I submitted my annual leave request to Gabriel—a full 30 days. It was the total time I had accumulated over the past five years.

Gabriel's expression darkened the moment he saw the leave request. "Cody, what is this supposed to mean?"

He slammed the paper onto my face. "The department needs hands right now! Are you taking this many days off to go against me?"

His voice dropped, full of threat. "Don't think that just because you're a resident you're safe. You still have a long career ahead of you. If you cross me, I have plenty of ways to make sure you can't last in this field! Keep this up, and it won't just be a demotion. I can fire you right now."

I said nothing. I pulled the medical checkup report I'd just done a few days ago from my pocket and set it on his desk.

"Dr. Robinson, I've been experiencing arrhythmia recently. My doctor recommended some rest," I said evenly.

"Long-term high-pressure work isn't good for the heart. You're my senior. You should understand that better than I do."

He picked up the report and scanned it. His face turned ashen and then flushed with rage. In the end, he couldn't find any argument.

"Hmph!"

He snorted, grabbed a pen, and signed my leave form.

I was about to turn and leave when Scarlett appeared.

She looped her arm through Lewis' and said with a mocking tone, "Well, well, Dr. Parker. A little setback, and you're already running?"

Lewis grinned and added, "Some people lack the skill, but their mental fortitude is even worse. Back where I practiced abroad, they would have been weeded out years ago."

"Don't think the department will collapse without you. Lewis here is way better than you. He's the real elite," Scarlett said.

Ignoring them, I walked straight out of the office.

At the end of the hall, the head nurse, Kaia Acevedo, called after me, "Dr. Parker."

She handed me an apple. "Remember that female patient you saved a few days ago?"

I nodded.

"She's the only daughter of Mr. Jabari Dodson, Crestfield Group's chairman. Mr. Dodson sent people to inquire about you, so he could thank you."

Kaia sighed. "But Dr. Gabriel blocked it. He credited the entire department, saying it was all thanks to Dr. Lewis' exceptional leadership. You're just too honest. You don't know how to fight for yourself."

I just nodded and thought that they weren't capable of handling this gratitude.

I boarded the high-speed train back home.

As soon as it started moving, my phone rang. It was Oscar. His voice was thick with panic, and he sounded like he was on the verge of tears.

"Dr. Parker! This is bad! Really bad! Crestfield Group's chairman just had an acute heart attack. He's been rushed to our hospital!"

My stomach dropped.

Oscar continued, "Lewis is the attending physician. He looked at the ECG and diagnosed an acute myocardial infarction, but the patient has special drug allergies, so he's afraid to use standard thrombolytics!

"He spent forever looking things up on his tablet, muttering about evidence-based medicine, but wouldn't make a decision! He's too scared to perform an emergency surgery, so he's asking the family to sign a transfer consent!"

Oscar's voice cracked. "Dr. Parker, this is an acute heart attack! Every minute counts! How can he even think about transferring him?"

Before I could respond, my phone vibrated and signaled Gabriel's number.

I hung up on Oscar and answered.

Gabriel's roar came through the line. "Cody! You get your ass back here immediately! If anything happens to Mr. Dodson, you'll regret it!"

I held the phone away, letting him blow off steam.

Then, I spoke calmly. "Dr. Robinson, first, I'm officially on leave. Second, I'm just a resident. I don't have the authority or the ability to handle a patient at this level. Isn't that overseas-trained prodigy, Dr. Lewis, supposed to be the expert in handling these complicated cases?"

With that, I hung up.

Oscar's voice messages came through again, panic thick in his voice.

"Dr. Parker, Mr. Dodson's condition worsened on the transfer ambulance! His heart even stopped once!

"The family is hysterical! They called Mr. Holder, demanding that the hospital take full responsibility!

"The whole hospital is in chaos now! Mr. Holder and several deputy directors are already at our department!"

He sent another voice message right after.

"Dr. Gabriel started spreading rumors in the department, claiming that you deliberately hid the Dodson family's special case files to steal credit. He said you concealed a crucial allergy report, which is why Lewis couldn't make the right call in time!

"He's even claiming you knew about Mr. Dodson's condition and intentionally kept quiet to make Lewis look bad!"

I scoffed, looking at the screen.

The art of shifting blame was truly perfected here.

Before one crisis even had a chance to settle, another was already brewing.

A different critical patient in our department, who'd just had a coronary artery bypass, suddenly went into ventricular fibrillation after surgery. The monitor's alarm rang, shrill and loud.

Oscar's messages continued in real-time.

"Lewis scrambled to direct the nurses to bring in the defibrillator. He shocked the patient multiple times, but he's still unresponsive!

"He even messed up the defibrillation energy settings. When a nurse pointed it out, he yelled at her!

"Ms. Acevedo said we need to start ECMO immediately. This is our last hope!"

ECMO—Extracorporeal Membrane Oxygenation—was a top-tier machine we imported from Dredan, costing millions of dollars. It was nicknamed the "lifeboat".

Oscar's message came again. "Lewis went to start the ECMO, but the machine failed to activate and kept sounding alarms!"

Frantic, Kaia yelled, "Dr. Parker is the only one who's familiar with the startup process and parameters! He's the one who always operates it! Don't mess with it!"

Lewis, annoyed, shoved her aside. "I've used imported equipment before. The principles are the same! What does a nurse know? The parameters were obviously wrong. It's not up to the latest international standards!"

He forcibly restarted the machine, trying to tweak the core parameters.

"Dr. Parker, this is bad! The ECMO's smoking!"

With Lewis' reckless handling, the ECMO unit shrieked. The screen flickered and then went black. A burnt plastic smell soon filled the room.

That multi-million-dollar "lifeboat" was completely down.

Two critically ill patients—one had missed the optimal window for treatment and was now in critical condition, while the other had lost the last of his life support, and the ECG was about to flatline.

The screams and curses from the families mixed with the alarm blaring from the monitors turned the entire cardiothoracic department into utter chaos.

Kelvin's face went ashen, and he nearly passed out on the spot.

With trembling hands, he called a technician from the ECMO manufacturer in Dredan for help.

The Dredanean, speaking in stiff Eldric, regretfully informed him that the nearest technicians were in Eryndor, and the earliest they could get here was in two days.

Despair hung over everyone.

Just as Kelvin was about to hang up, the Dredanean technician added, "Perhaps you can try reaching out to Professor Walker's team, who helped us with the initial equipment setup. I remember he had an apprentice surnamed Parker working at your hospital."

Kelvin's hand froze in mid-air. He whipped his head around, locking eyes with Gabriel.

Gabriel's face instantly drained of color.

He knew better than anyone that the technician was talking about the apprentice of Teagan Walker, the country's top heart and lung specialist.

And that apprentice surnamed Parker was none other than me—Cody Parker—the one he had personally sabotaged, now on a high-speed train for a vacation.