The nights in New York are never calm. This thriving city on the east coast stages never-ending melodramas every night. The gentle moonlight fails to slow down the hustle and bustle of passers-by, and the cool night wind fails to appease their restless heart.
Shiller walked briskly into the lab. On seeing him, Connors furrowed his brows. Shiller didn't show any specific reaction; he only asked, "Has Stephen been looking for you?"
"Yes, about his brother's case," Connors was straightforward, he adjusted his glasses and said, "Genetic diseases are indeed a bit tricky, but Nick has found a perfect liver source for him. I wanted to give him a cure potion, but he refused. He's very proud of his surgical skills."
Hearing that Strange didn't take the cure potion from Connors, Shiller slightly frowned, made small talk with Connors, then left the ward.
The sound of his dress shoes echoed in the vacant hallway. The cold light from the hospital room combined with the moonlight outside. A tall figure crossed the hallway of the Elders Council Hospital and arrived at the last consultation meeting site.
When he walked in, everyone looked at him with surprise because he was carrying a notebook and a pen-something usually only medical students observing carried.
But he ignored those gazes, sat down calmly, lifted his gaze to the screen at the front, his expression serious, like a student attending a major consultation for the first time.
In the hallways of S.H.I.E.L.D., Shiller passed by Natasha. As the female agent glanced at his face, she raised an eyebrow and revealed an interested expression. Shiller, meanwhile, headed straight for Nick Fury's office.
"Nick, I wanted to confirm something. There shouldn't be any issues with the liver source for Stephen's brother, right?" Shiller knocked on the door and asked.
Nick glanced up, looking somewhat puzzled at Shiller. "Perfectly compatible organs of course won't have any problems. Are you worried about their source or legality?"
Nick got up from his desk, tidying the files on his table as he mentioned, "We might not necessarily find the most suitable liver source within America, but if we look globally, we can surely find one. As long as you have money and influence, this isn't a problem."
"Is the organ to be transplanted determined safe? Where is it now?"
"It's still being transported and should arrive by tomorrow morning. We will perform the surgery immediately upon arrival; it's the safest way. But why are you asking this?" Nick looked at Shiller with confusion.
Shiller composed himself, saying, "No reason. I want to ensure everything goes smoothly. You know how important Stephen is to us. The relatives of heroes shouldn't bleed."
Nick stood by the door, and patted Shiller's shoulder, "Don't worry, nothing will go wrong. Stephen's brother will recover quickly, and then he can resume his work."
Moonlight cascaded onto the window sill. Well-cared-for slender hands flipped through the case histories of past years. The figure sitting by the window seemed to be revisiting his student days, carefully studying each organ transplant cases that had taken place in Elders Council Hospital, and continually revisiting the key points he had taken during the last consultation.
He marked the records with his pen. The rustling sound echoed in the room. The few ancient objects in the apartment were very accustomed to this sound. The days and nights of hard studying not only etched knowledge into his brain but also doubled his silhouette against the wall.
"The surgery is tomorrow morning. Are you nervous?"
Shiller poured a glass of water and placed it in front of Victor. Seeing Victor's scarf on the side, he knew he must have just returned from Elders Council Hospital.
"A little maybe." Victor revealed a simple smile, "I mean, I've never really had surgery before."
"Don't worry. Your brother is the best surgeon in the world. No matter what, he won't let anything happen to you. And neither will I."
"Of course, Dr. Shiller." Victor seemed more relaxed. He tilted his head slightly to one side, looking at the moonlight outside the window, "I know doctors are good people. You always think about how to save people."
"Our town doctor is busier than a tractor during the harvest season. You'd think a person as busy as that wouldn't want any additional work, but he always calls me to ask if there's any discomfort and if there is, I must tell him."
"He's a good person, helping many old farmers so that they could continue working, including my dad. He is a stern person, but I remember the look of astonishment on his face when he learned my brother was Stephen Strange."
Shiller lowered his eyes and smiled, "Indeed, Strange is a legend in the field of surgical medicine, having been written into every piece of literature that mentions renowned surgeons. His surgeries are even taught in textbooks. Which doctor wouldn't want to meet this god-like hand?"
Victor laughed heartily, like a typical farmer chuckling, appearing both innocent and simple. Shiller could tell that despite their mediocre relationship, Victor was clearly proud of this fact.
After the laughter subsided, Victor looked at Shiller sincerely, "You must be one of his good friends."
Shiller paused as he was fixing Victor's blanket, "Why do you say that?"
"Did he send you to persuade me?"
Shiller nodded.
However, Victor shook his head slightly, "You don't know how difficult it is for him to ask for help. From a remote small town all the way to New York, then becoming such a famous surgeon, it's hard to imagine. But he has never begged anyone, not even once."
Victor looked up at the starry sky outside the window and said, "He always works madly alone, then solves all problems by himself. In countless nights like this, he told me that there's only one thing in this world that he can't learn, and that is despair."
The night grew deeper, and the occasional drifting thin clouds dimmed the moonlight. The bright light in the room contrasted with the outside, the practice model that hadn't been used for years was taken out from its box. A hand was placed on it and once the preparatory work was done, a series of lightning-quick stitches appeared under the light, like fluttering butterflies.
For a medical student, basic skin suture is not difficult, but for a surgeon, it's routine work. However, the fluidity and the beauty that emerge from the hands of this person performing it, can turn the gory imagination of stitching flesh into art.
He practiced again and again until the moon fell and the sun rose.
After the suturing line was removed, no additional trace was left on the model's surface. After putting the model back into its box, he sat alone on the bed, watching the sunrise out of the window, just like many of the nights he had spent honing his skills.
On a pitch-black national highway, a special low-temperature transport truck was speeding towards New York. The driver, who was focused on driving, didn't notice a faint layer of grey mist rising around the vehicle.
As the sun rose over the vast horizon of the Americas, the silhouette of the transport truck disappeared into New York's stacked skyline. The morning fog slowly dissipated.
When Victor was wheeled into the operating room, Dr. Strange was already dressed and ready. Despite the mask and cap covering their faces, Shiller could still sense a calmness in him that was more profound than usual.
The double doors of the operating room slowly closed, and the long process of transplant surgery evoked an anxiety that was beyond anyone's imagination, even though he was simply standing outside the door.
Both the inside and outside of the operating room was peaceful until the light outside the window turned from bright to dark. It was then that faint sounds suddenly erupted from the operating room. Someone was shouting something, but it didn't sound like panic.
Soon, the operating room door was opened. Nurses worked together to push the patient out. Shiller faintly heard words like "the operation was very successful" and "another miracle". There was no surprise in their tones, as if it was something taken for granted.
Shiller suddenly revealed a triumphant smile. He shrugged his shoulders and was about to leave when a nurse stopped him and said, "Dr. Rodriguez, Dr. Strange invites you in."
Shiller was taken aback, a bit surprised. He said: "But I'm not in surgical attire, I…"
"It's okay, the operation is over. Dr. Strange may have something urgent, you should go in quickly."
Shiller had no choice but to enter the operating room. After the last nurse left, Dr. Strange, who was still wearing his surgical mask and cap, gestured Shiller to close the door, all the while cleaning the surgical instruments on the side.
Shiller hesitated for a moment but still went to close the door. He walked with a brisk step and said as he moved, "The operation was very successful, wasn't it? I think surgical medicine should also be classified as magic."
"Has your deal with death been fulfilled?" Doctor Strange's voice came from under his mask, sounding somewhat unreal.
Shiller took a couple of steps forward, leaned against the side wall, and said, "Sure, as long as Victor was still alive by the end of the surgery, the deal is completed."
"Your arm's paid its dues to death?"
Shiller nodded, smiled, and said, "I seem to remember someone telling me I'd have to pay a price."
By now, Dr. Strange had finished packing up the tools and removed his gloves, hat, and mask. Shiller assumed he was leaving and stepped aside.
But Dr. Strange stayed in place, pulling out the Time Gem.
Shiller furrowed his brows in surprise, not understanding what Dr. Strange would do, but the next moment, the Time Gem was activated, emitting a dense energy.
They didn't travel through time, instead, the rich energy condensed into a substantial form and reshaped into a dagger-like blade. Strange's left hand held the end of the weapon.
Shiller's eyes widened, and he held his breath. In that moment, he realized what Dr. Strange was going to do, and a thick cloud of grey mist lunged at Dr. Strange.
But it was already too late.
With a "swoosh" sound, the sharp blade sliced through Dr. Strange's right forearm, about ten centimeters below his elbow. There was no blood, no severed limb, no crying out in pain or screams of terror. All that happened was, the 'Hand of God' that was deemed as a marvel in the field of surgery, disappeared completely.
The moment the grey mist gathered, Shiller grabbed Dr. Strange's neck tightly and brutally slammed him against the wall.
Shiller first looked at the smooth incision on Strange's arm, then turned his incredulous gaze to Strange's face.
Dr. Strange lifted his head slightly, and when his eyes met Shiller's, they were filled with cold amusement.
"I have destroyed all the timelines of this arm, and you will never, never, never... be able to get it back."