Three Days Later – Private Meeting
The hospital boardroom was quieter than usual.
This was a smaller, more exclusive meeting—just a handful of key figures from the hospital administration and senior medical staff.
At the head of the table sat Dr. Henry Caldwell (Chief Medical Officer, CMO).
To his right, Dr. Linda Hayworth (Head of Surgery), her expression carefully neutral.
Further down were Dr. Elizabeth Monroe (Director of Medicine), Dr. Wallace (Cardiothoracic Consultant), and Dr. Patel (Senior Neurologist).
Also present was Richard Martin (Head of Administration), who was already reviewing the documents in his hands with increasing concern.
And at the centre of their discussion?
Me.
More specifically, my surgical record.
And the fact that something about it wasn't normal.
The Revelation
Martin cleared his throat, placing the file on the table.
"We finally received a full record of Dr. Lin's surgical history."
Caldwell leaned forward. "And?"
Martin exhaled. "It's… difficult to believe."
Hayworth frowned. "Explain."
Martin glanced at Monroe before continuing.
"He's never failed."
The room fell silent.
Hayworth blinked. "What?"
Wallace raised an eyebrow. "Clarify."
Martin tapped the file. "Across multiple institutions, spanning years, across different specialties—every procedure he has ever performed was successful."
Patel folded his arms. "No surgeon has a perfect record."
"And yet, he does."
Hayworth finally took the document from Martin, flipping through the pages.
It wasn't just a record of good performance.
It was flawless.
From routine appendectomies to complex hepatectomies, from emergency trauma procedures to the most delicate neurosurgeries, every case was marked as successful.
No post-op complications.
No fatal outcomes.
No recorded failures.
Wallace let out a low whistle. "That's not just skill. That's… unnatural."
Hayworth, ever the sceptic, narrowed her eyes. "Are we sure these records are legitimate?"
Monroe nodded. "Cross-verified. Multiple hospitals. Multiple countries. Different specialties."
Caldwell tapped his fingers on the table. "So what you're saying is… we have a surgeon working in our hospital who has never lost a patient?"
Martin hesitated before adding, "Not just never lost a patient—never made a mistake."
The words hung in the air like a weight.
Because that wasn't possible.
Not in the real world.
Not in medicine.
Not in surgery.
And yet, the records didn't lie.
Patel finally spoke. "There's only one way that happens."
The others turned to him.
And he simply stated the obvious.
"He's not just good. He's impossible."
The Theories Begin
Evans, who had been mostly silent until now, finally sighed. "Alright. Let's address the obvious question—how?"
Wallace smirked. "If I had to guess? His girlfriend."
Hayworth shot him a glare. "Be serious."
"I am." He gestured lazily. "She was correcting him in real-time during his first surgery here. She rewrote his report in minutes. We still don't know who she is, and somehow, everything about him defies medical logic."
Martin frowned. "Are you suggesting she's feeding him information?"
Wallace shrugged. "That, or something even weirder."
Patel rubbed his temples. "Let's not go down the conspiracy theory route."
Caldwell, who had been silent, finally spoke.
"Regardless of how or why—there's one thing we can all agree on."
They turned to him.
And his next words sent a clear message.
"We need to keep him."
The Split in Opinion
Hayworth, predictably, was the first to object.
"Absolutely not."
Caldwell raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"Because we don't understand him." She gestured at the file. "No surgeon is perfect. This isn't just unusual—it's dangerous. If we don't know how he's doing it, we can't trust it."
Martin nodded in agreement. "There's also the question of accountability. If something ever does go wrong, how do we explain his record?"
Patel, however, had a different view.
"Or we accept that, for whatever reason, he's an outlier. A statistical anomaly. And we take advantage of that."
Wallace leaned back, smirking. "I'm with Patel on this. You don't let go of a once-in-a-lifetime talent."
Evans, ever the pragmatist, sighed. "Let's put it this way—if you had a surgeon who could guarantee success, would you fire him?"
The room fell silent again.
Because that was the real question, wasn't it?
Did they want certainty in an uncertain field?
Or did they fear what they didn't understand?
The Final Decision
At last, Caldwell made his ruling.
"We won't rush a decision." His voice was calm but firm. "We'll observe him for a while longer, gather more data. If he continues to prove himself, we'll make a formal offer."
Hayworth didn't look pleased, but she didn't argue further.
Martin sighed. "And if we find something concerning?"
Caldwell's expression darkened slightly.
"Then we'll re-evaluate."
But deep down, everyone knew the truth.
If a surgeon like me truly existed…
Could they afford to let me go?
Probably not.
And that was exactly what I had counted on.