"The tumor's position is pressed against the brain's main nerve clusters and the basilar artery. Following your proposed surgical path for the craniotomy would require..."
Serena's cool voice spoke rapidly, yet every word was crystal clear. "...You've overestimated. Following your designated path, the success rate is less than five percent."
Derek's voice died in his throat once again.
His face turned a ghostly pale, his pupils constricting in shock.
Because...
Everything Serena said was correct.
The tumor's location, the surgical path...
She got it all right.
She had even pointed out all the flaws in the surgical plan they had developed.
"You..." Derek's mouth opened, but his throat was painfully dry.
His own profession, the one in which he took so much pride.
His long-held belief in his own medical genius.
Yet every time, in front of Serena, she shattered it all with a casual, almost indifferent air.
His so-called title of "genius doctor" felt like a joke in her presence.
"No... impossible."
The repeated blows to his pride and self-esteem, delivered so effortlessly by Serena, felt as if an invisible, icy hand were crushing Derek's heart.
It tightened with every word she spoke, stealing the very air from his lungs until he could barely breathe.
Serena put away her needles, her languid gaze lifting to glance at the nearly broken Derek.
"Western medicine can't save everyone, but ancient healing arts can create miracles. The fact that you can't do it just proves you're useless."
Serena knew Derek had a fragile ego.
And it was a very fragile ego indeed.
A few pointed words were probably enough to drive him mad.

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