My Empire

"The energy shell hit his arm directly. You know the power of that thing. Even if it is protected by a powered mech, his arm can't be kept." While writing the case record, a doctor in a white coat, Said with emotion.

  This is the case of a patient he has just treated. When this patient was sent, his arm was **** and he couldn't keep it.

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

  The doctors did not even think about it, so they cut off the man’s arm with tools, 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.

  The other doctor sighed and talked about the patient: "Fortunately we have soul technology and puppet prostheses. His life will not be affected. Amputation is a good choice."

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

  However, no matter how good a prosthesis is, it is still a prosthesis after all. It can never replace one's own arms or thighs, so no matter how they develop, they can't make up for people's regrets about losing their limbs.

At this time, a doctor walked into the room with a tired look. He walked to his seat, and randomly dropped the notebook in his hand on the table, and then fell on his own rotating table as if exhausted. Chair.

  He straightened his legs and turned weakly toward the ceiling, and the whole person exuded a strong sigh of depression.

  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 guards 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 anymore, suddenly snorted, seeming to be struggling, and said: "The patient in bed 9 has awakened... He still has a certain mind. I don’t know, but it’s much better than before I took the tranquilizer yesterday."

"The buddy in bed 31... only fell asleep after taking seven sleeping pills... Tell the nurse in the duty room that the dose can't be increased... If you add to it, he won't be able to wake up." There was a slight pause. , And he didn't hear other people talking, so he said to himself.

This time, a doctor finally spoke and said, "I know, buddy, he has Battlefield Syndrome and can’t sleep? For him, it’s happier to be able to fall asleep than to live... …"

  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 people every day, with an average of five days to rest for one day, which is almost indistinguishable from livestock.

  So, most of the time, the office is terribly quiet, and everyone is reluctant to talk, because all the energy is spent on ward rounds, surgery, and wound treatment.

  It is their happiest thing to be able to climb back here and lie down in a chair for a while. So they are too lazy to talk, too lazy to do any unnecessary things.

   "Also a poor fellow." Hearing a colleague echoed, the doctor who was still writing the case notes also followed with emotion.

  Just after he finished speaking, a nurse rushed in and shouted: "Doctor! Another car! There is a seriously injured person! The situation is very dangerous."

   did not speak, several doctors stood up from their positions one after another, rubbing their faces with their hands, and then took a step forward and walked outside the door.

  "Did you have a blood transfusion?" As he walked, a doctor in the lead asked the nurse who led the way: "Are there any basic treatments for frontline medical soldiers?"

   "Blood transfusion... But the situation is not optimistic, the injuries are too serious... The medical soldiers' disposal is also very messy, initially suspected of internal bleeding, organ damage..." The nurse replied as he walked forward.

In the corridor, a second lieutenant officer saw several doctors hurriedly passing by, immediately rushed up, rushed to the doctor, and pleaded: "Doctor...Doctor! Save this soldier! He is a good man," He threw down his comrades, but he was hit!"

  "We will do our best!" Without stopping, a doctor casually reassures him, while preparing to continue to the operating room.

"If he dies, I'll fight you! Asshole! I don't want you to do your best, I want you to save him!" Another soldier covered in blood tried desperately to rush forward, but was killed in a field battle. The guards in the hospital stopped.

  The guard with an armband frowned, and pushed the soldier to the wall: "Calm down! Soldier! This is a field hospital! Not where you run wild! Go back! Go back!"

  While talking, he even touched the stun gun around his waist in a field hospital specially prepared for soldiers who had seen blood. It would not be able to hold the place if it was not fierce.

The doctor headed by    stopped and comforted: "We understand your mood very well. We will do our best to treat every soldier sent here! Please rest assured!"

  "He saved me! He did it to save me!" The soldier didn't dare to bully the guards in the field hospital, but even though he was pressed against the wall, he still shouted loudly.

  The head doctor continued to speak: "I understand! I understand! We will try our best to make him better."

   "Thank you! Thank you! I must save him, I must..." As he said, the soldier who was very impulsive and arrogant just now was already in tears.

  There are still blood stains on his body, and I don’t know if it is his own or his comrade-in-arms. On the digital camouflage uniform, there was also a commemorative medal garrisoned on the Higgs 3.

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

  Looking at the doctors and nurses going away, the second lieutenant smiled and made a harmless gesture to the hospital guard who was waiting. 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 on the wall looked at the end of the corridor nervously, at the dry puddles of blood on the stone floor of the corridor.

  He didn't know what he should do, and squatted back to the corner in a daze, holding his helmet, as if his whole soul had been taken away.

  The second lieutenant walked to his side and put his hand on his shoulder. After considering it for a moment, he comforted him: "Nothing will happen... Don't worry."

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