Chapter 2: Having Died Once

“Huh!?”
Mei Mu was utterly bewildered.
He’d read plenty of transmigration novels; in those, people would get all sorts of overpowered system sprites or Supreme King systems—utterly unbeatable. So why was his own so-called Scales of Fate this obnoxious?
Before Mei Mu could react, intending to retort to this Miss Scales of Fate—if she could be called that—she was already one step ahead.
“Hmph! Do you think I want to serve a low-dimensional single-celled organism like you? Dream on. If you think you’ll get perks for doing nothing, let me tell you, people like you have only one optimal choice.”
“What?” Mei Mu knew it was a trap, but his wild curiosity got the better of him.
“Just die! Once you’re dead, everything’s over. No more worries. Otherwise, every day you live is its own torment.” This Miss Scales had quite the venomous tongue!
“Hey! Wait a minute, isn’t that too much?” Mei Mu hadn’t finished his protest when he suddenly realized her presence had vanished from his mind.
What was this…
In an instant, his vision shifted again, and he was looking at Christine’s lovely face, which was a blend of surprise, sorrow, sympathy, and confusion.
Christine’s expression changed several times, but when her gaze landed on Mei Mu’s face, swollen and bruised, her expression turned to one of distress.
She wasn’t the only one in pain—Mei Mu himself could barely stand it!
Damn it, anyone would hurt if all their fingers were splinted, and then steel pins were inserted through the backs of their hands to hold their fingers in place. The pain was soul-deep.
After all, every finger is connected to the heart.
It was sheer agony.
Gasping, Mei Mu asked, “What… did they do to me?”
“Mei Mu, I’m so glad. It looks like… there’s no concussion. Please, listen to me calmly.” Christine had clearly misunderstood. In her mind, Mei Mu must be on the verge of a psychological breakdown.
Everyone knows what a pair of hands means to a world-class neurosurgeon. Mei Mu’s entire life depended on them.
“They flew you here by helicopter and spent a long time finding you… but you had already missed the golden window to treat nerve damage.” Christine did her best to sound steady and gentle.
“What… what measures did they take?”
Christine pressed her lips together, searching for words that wouldn’t upset him, but in the end, she spoke frankly: “Eleven stainless steel pins inserted into the bones. Multiple torn ligaments. Severe nerve damage in both hands. The operation lasted a full eleven hours… No one could have done any better.”
At that moment, Mei Mu suddenly realized Christine hadn’t mentioned his chest injuries at all.

Huh?
Mei Mu struggled to lower his head, seeing that his half-exposed chest was perfectly intact.
Did this parallel world correct my chest injury?
Then why not fix my hands as well!?
Damn it!
He’d never seen a transmigration as unreliable as this—he could almost kill someone.
“Hiss… It hurts!”
Christine saw everything: Mei Mu’s silence, the way his facial muscles twitched.
It was a sign of trauma.
Typically, after a serious injury, a patient experiences psychological shock. In the ER, Christine had seen it countless times: first disbelief and shock, then agitation and futile denial, but in the end, everyone is forced to accept the harsh reality.
Sensing the resentment in Mei Mu’s eyes, Christine misunderstood yet again.
“Mei Mu, I know you’re the best neurosurgeon. Among all neurosurgeons in the city, only Nick comes close to you. Don’t blame Nick for ruining you—he did his best. Actually… things aren’t as bad as they seem. At least you’re alive, right?” Christine’s gentle reassurance struck something deep within Mei Mu.
He had been full of resentment—how had disaster struck him out of nowhere?
It was clearly Stephen who had crashed through the barrier and fallen—his car was the one wrecked. So why was he the one lying in a hospital bed, acting out the “undying spirit” trope?
Yet, now he felt a strange sense of release.
In ten thousand transmigrations, nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine end in death; he’d hit the one-in-ten-thousand chance and survived. That alone was a miracle. And to top it off, he had replaced none other than Doctor Strange himself.
Marvel’s world was perilous; Earth would face repeated invasions. But at least now, he was living a new life.
“Exactly. At least I’m still alive.” Mei Mu forced a bitter smile. “By the way, Christine, don’t you have a shift?”
“I… I took a leave.” Christine seemed flustered for a moment, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.
“The ER is always short-staffed.”
“All right, consider it a thank-you for you saving that gunshot patient for me yesterday,” Christine insisted.

Gunshot?
Ah, yes—before the body’s previous owner drove to the Neurology Association banquet, he had performed a miraculous surgery, saving a critical patient with a bullet lodged in the brain.
But all that was in the past.
Suddenly, Mei Mu realized this was its own kind of liberation—at least he, an academic slacker, didn’t have to pretend to be a prodigy.
Exhaling long and slow, Mei Mu lay back in the hospital bed.
He accepted his fate.
“Christine.”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.” No matter how strange this transmigration was, to have someone who genuinely cared for him in this unfamiliar world, who worried and suffered on his behalf—he owed her that much.
A simple “thank you” was well deserved.
Christine’s eyes suddenly filled with tears. She turned away, wiping the corners of her eyes: “You jerk. Why are you suddenly so sentimental?”
Mei Mu was taken aback, then gave a wry smile. “Maybe it’s because I’ve died once already.”
Having died once was a perfect excuse, after all.
Many people have their flaws before illness or disaster; after surviving a great ordeal, it’s not uncommon for their character to change for the better.
“Damn it, I think I like the new you even more,” Christine spat sharply, then realizing her words might be misunderstood, quickly corrected herself, “I mean, your personality.”
Christine was truly afraid.
Before the accident, Mei Mu’s exquisite skill had earned him fame and fortune, but also made him extremely arrogant.
After such an injury, anyone could become sensitive; Christine, kind at heart, couldn’t bear to say anything hurtful at a time like this. Besides, she and Mei Mu had once been more than colleagues…
“It’s all right, I know you mean well. I’m afraid I’ll have to trouble you for a while yet.”
Christine was briefly stunned, then her face broke into a radiant smile. “My pleasure.”