One Thousand Six Hundred and Forty-One Bright Red Lights

"The energy cannonball hit his arm directly. You know the power of that thing. Even with the protection of the powered mecha, his arm would not be able to keep it." While writing the case record, a doctor in a white coat, Opened his mouth and said with emotion.

This is the case of a patient he just treated. When this patient was sent, one arm was bloody and bloody, and he couldn't keep it at all.

Even the bones of this arm have been shattered, embedded in the flesh and blood, like irregular shrapnel.

Without even thinking about it, the doctors used tools to cut off the man's arm, and threw the remaining pile of minced meat into the medical trash can.

This is the field hospital. They must use the least loss plan as soon as possible and use the fastest speed to make a choice for each wounded.

Another doctor sighed and started talking about this patient: "Fortunately, we have soul technology and puppet prosthetics. His life will not be affected. Amputation is a good choice."

Soul technology and puppet prosthetics can help the wounded return to life as much as possible. With advanced prosthetics, many soldiers can even stay on the battlefield and continue to fight the enemy.

However, no matter how useful prosthetics are, they are still prosthetics. They can never replace a person's own arms or thighs, so no matter how they develop, they cannot make up for the regret of people losing their limbs.

At this time, a doctor walked into the room with a tired face. He walked to his seat, casually threw the record book for ward rounds in his hand on the table, and then collapsed on his rotating table as if exhausted. chair.

He straightened his legs, facing the ceiling weakly, his whole body exuded a strong breath of decadence.

There is no way, anyone who has worked overtime for two consecutive days, has undergone various operations and has to take care of more than 200 patients, without the heaven-defying props provided by the system, will be as tired as a dead dog.

The doctor who came in later, when everyone thought he would not speak again, suddenly let out a long snort, and said as if he was struggling: "The patient in bed No. 9 woke up...his mind is still a little bit. I don't know, but it's much better than yesterday before taking the tranquilizer."

"The buddy on the 31st bed... took seven sleeping pills before he fell asleep... tell the nurse in the duty room that the dosage cannot be increased... he won't be able to wake up if you add more." There was a slight pause , and didn't hear anyone talking, so he just said to himself.

This time, a doctor finally spoke up and said, "I know that buddy, isn't he suffering from battlefield syndrome and can't sleep? For him, being able to sleep to death is happier than being alive... ..."

The doctors in the room are the backbone of this field hospital,

As the war continues, their workload has reached a huge level.

They have to deal with tens of thousands of wounded every day, with an average of five days to rest for one day, and they are no different from livestock.

Therefore, most of the time, the office is terribly quiet, and no one is willing to speak, because all their energy is spent on ward rounds, surgery, and wound treatment.

It was their happiest thing to be able to crawl back here and lie down on the chair for a short rest. So they are too lazy to talk, too lazy to do anything superfluous.

"He's also a poor guy." Hearing colleagues agree, the doctor who was still writing case notes just now also said with emotion.

As soon as he finished speaking, a nurse rushed in and shouted, "Doctor! Another car is here! There is a seriously injured person! The situation is very dangerous."

Without speaking, several doctors stood up from their positions one after another. They rubbed their faces with their hands, and then they took a step and walked towards the door.

"Have you had a blood transfusion?" While walking, the leading doctor asked the nurse leading the way, "Is there any basic treatment for frontline medical soldiers?"

"Blood transfusion... But the situation is not optimistic, the injury is too serious... The treatment of the medical soldiers is also very messy. It is initially suspected that there is internal bleeding and organ damage..." The nurse replied as she walked forward.

In the corridor, a second lieutenant officer saw several doctors passing by in a hurry, and immediately jumped up, rushed to the doctor, and begged: "Doctor...doctor! Help this soldier! He is a good man, He threw his comrades down, but he was shot!"

"We will do our best!" Without stopping his steps, a doctor calmed down casually, and prepared to continue to the operating room.

"If he dies, I will fight you! Bastard! I don't want you to do your best, I want you to save him!" Another soldier covered in blood desperately wanted to pounce on him, but he was killed by the field. The guards in the hospital stopped him.

The guard with the armband frowned and pushed the soldier to the wall: "Calm down! Soldier! This is a field hospital! Not a place for you to run wild! Back! Back!"

While talking, he even touched the stun gun on his waist - in this kind of field hospital specially prepared for soldiers who saw blood, it is impossible to control the scene without being vicious.

The leading doctor stopped in his tracks and comforted him: "We understand your feelings very well. We will do our best to treat every soldier sent here! Please rest assured!"

"He saved me! He did this to save me!" The soldier didn't have the guts to mess around with the guards in the field hospital, but even though he was pushed against the wall, he still yelled loudly.

The leading doctor continued, "I understand! I understand! We will try our best to make him better."

"Thank you! Thank you! We must save him, we must..." As he spoke, the soldier who was very impulsive and domineering just now burst into tears.

There were still bloodstains on his body, and it was not known whether it was his own or his comrades in arms. On the digital camouflage military uniform, there is also a commemorative medal stationed at Higgs 3.

This means that he is a warrior, a real warrior who has fought against the enemy for more than three months on the surface of the Higgs 3 planet.

Seeing the doctors and nurses going away, the second lieutenant smiled and made a harmless gesture to the hospital guard who was waiting in line. The guard did not continue to embarrass the soldiers under the second lieutenant, and finally let go of his hand.

The soldier who had just been pressed against the wall looked at the end of the corridor uneasily, at the dried up puddles of blood on the stone floor of the corridor.

He didn't know what to do, he squatted back to the corner in a daze, holding his helmet, as if his soul had been sucked out of him.

The second lieutenant walked up to him and put his hands on his shoulders. After thinking about it, he comforted him, "It's going to be fine...don't worry."

The lights in the operating room were on, as red as blood.