Apocalypse: I Can Upgrade Everything

Chapter 146: I Have No Filter for Any Profession

Dr. Luo Tao, 43, was once a respected chief surgeon at a top-tier hospital in Rong City. He had a career, a loving wife who taught at the university, and a reputation for impeccable medical ethics.

The apocalypse took everything except his wife and his hands.

Fleeing the city, they had ended up at the Second Primary School. Life here was stable, safe under the protection of the Death God. The only downside was his obsolescence. The Church’s miraculous potions cured illnesses instantly, rendering his decades of medical training useless. He had become just another mouth to feed.

But today, his wife brought news: A Sequence Beyonder needed surgery. The payment? A 30-liter drum of gasoline.

“Hui Hui, is this real?” Dr. Luo asked, incredulous.

“Would I lie to you? Xu Lina told me!”

“Xu Lina?”

His wife narrowed her eyes. “Why do you sound so excited? Has that vixen stolen your soul too?”

Dr. Luo quickly denied it, but the truth was undeniable: Xu Lina had half the male population of the cult wrapped around her finger.

Fourth Grade, Class Three

“Iron Lion,” Chen Ye said, his voice low and serious. “You’re the only one I can trust.”

“If the doctor tries anything… anything at all… you end him.”

Chen Ye drew a finger across his throat, his eyes cold.

Iron Lion hesitated, scratching his head. “Yezi, that seems harsh. I know Dr. Luo. He’s a good guy…”

“Iron Lion,” Chen Ye snapped. “You can know a man’s face but not his heart. Are you going to watch your brother get butchered on the operating table?”

“As long as he does his job, he gets paid. I’m giving him gasoline! I just need you here to ensure he doesn’t get creative with his scalpel.”

“I really don’t want to hurt anyone. Really.”

“And besides… do I look like a bad guy to you?”

Iron Lion stared at him for a long moment.

“Yes,” he said earnestly.

Chen Ye: “…”

Chen Ye sighed. He didn’t trust anyone, but he had no choice. The ritual was in three days. Wu Jianshan was plotting something. He needed the Abyssal Blood Eye installed now.

Iron Lion finally agreed.

Moments later, the door opened. Xu Lina led Dr. Luo and his wife inside.

The room was dim, lit only by a few battery-powered lanterns. Chen Ye sat on a desk, sharpening his Heavy Machete. Iron Lion loomed in the corner like a mountain of muscle.

Dr. Luo looked around, confused. “Mr. Chen? You want to do the surgery here?”

“We don’t have a hospital, Doc. This will have to do.”

“Impossible,” Dr. Luo shook his head. “No sterile field, no anesthesia, no equipment. You’ll die of infection before I even finish suturing. I advise you to drop this idea. Those TV shows are fiction.”

He turned to leave.

Chen Ye nodded at Iron Lion.

Iron Lion moved with terrifying speed, grabbing Dr. Luo’s wife by the arm. She shrieked.

“What are you doing?!” Dr. Luo shouted, panic rising. “Let her go!”

Iron Lion held the woman effortlessly, like an eagle holding a chick.

“Dr. Luo, relax,” Chen Ye said calmly. “I have no filter for any profession. I don’t care if you’re a doctor or a saint. I only judge people by their utility.”

“But unfortunately, many people lack morals. So I need insurance.”

“Do the surgery. Follow my instructions perfectly. You and your wife walk away with the gasoline. Refuse, or screw up… well.”

“You…” Dr. Luo was trembling with rage. “You’re a monster! I refuse!”

“Think carefully,” Chen Ye said, his voice dropping an octave.

Xu Lina stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on the doctor’s arm. “Dr. Luo, Mr. Chen always keeps his word. Just do it. You don’t really have a choice.”

Dr. Luo looked at his terrified wife, then at the implacable Iron Lion. He slumped.

“Fine. I’ll do it. But you better keep your promise.”

“Of course,” Chen Ye smiled.

He reached into a jar filled with diluted Blood Tears and pulled out the eyeball.

It had changed. Soaking in the fluid had revitalized it. The shriveled tissue had plumped up, and grotesque, writhing nerve bundles were sprouting from the back of the orb.

It looked alive. And hungry.

“Dr. Luo,” Chen Ye said, handing him a sheaf of paper. “Read this.”

It was the System’s manual.

Dr. Luo read it. His face went pale. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

“This… this is impossible. This procedure… it’s not medical. It’s madness. You want me to connect that to your brain?”

“Just follow the steps, Doc. Don’t think. Just cut.”

Half an hour later, the “operating theater” was ready.

Chen Ye lay on a table made of pushed-together desks. Above him, suspended by a thin willow branch from the ceiling, hung his Heavy Machete.

It dangled directly over Dr. Luo’s neck.

“Start,” Chen Ye said, staring up at the blade. “And remember: if you slip, the knife drops.”

Dr. Luo picked up the scalpel, his hands shaking. He looked at the writhing alien eye, then at Chen Ye’s calm, waiting face.

There was no anesthesia.

He understood: if he made any mistake, the Heavy Machete would be the weapon that killed him.