The hideout was everything Lǐ Xīnyuàn dreaded and abhorred with passion. An unsanitary, abandoned building, dust and dirt decorating its every nook and corner.

Lǐ Xīnyuàn sneezed the moment he stepped into that place, forcefully lead through the cemented, dusty stairs leading up the incomplete building. As he observed the place, he couldn't help but shiver in disgust, roaming his eyes all over the place.

“Are you sure your leader is even alive in these... conditions?“ He inquired politely, only to feel a harsh tug at his bound wrists and a gun digging against his back. “Rude.“

The stand-in leader glared at him, warning harshly. “You are lucky that you're one of the world's top surgrons and that we need you, Dr. Lǐ. Or else...“ he sneered threateningly.

Lǐ Xīnyuàn quickly bowed his head, making a face in secret as he let them drag him around, feeling the ropes rub against his skin.

“Careful with my hands,” he muttered. The stand-in leader gave him a look.

They stopped, feet halting as Lǐ Xīnyuàn raised his head, looking curiously at the closed door.

Could it be where the injured leader was? His previous question still stood. Was that man even alive?

Lǐ Xīnyuàn blinked, trying to push away the blur in his field of vision. Damn it, he should have at least had that chocolate bar.

“Is this it?“ He asked, as the man holding his shackles pushed open the door and rudely pushed him inside. “Be careful.“ He winced, his wrists feeling raw.

A moment later, the surgeon finally became aware of his surroundings, unlike the desolate conditions of the building, this room itself looked more like an operation theatre than a terrorist hideout.

With his hands finally out of bounds, Lǐ Xīnyuàn walked closer to the lone operating table in the room where he saw the leader lying unconscious, looking ghastly pale.

The surgeon pursed his lips and turned to the stand-in leader, inquiring once more. “He's actually salvageable, right?“ Slowly, he checked the man's vitals, they were highly unstable. “At this point, a surgery is very risky,” he commented, washing and sanitizing his hands with the terrorist's help.

“And I must remind you of the state of my clothes,” he added, looking down at his clothes. “Not that you have scrubs but still...“ he shut up when the man harshly pulled the surgical gown on his head and then a tieback cap to cover his hair.

The man then helped him put on a surgical mask and latex gloves. In apparent frustration, he sanitized Lǐ Xīnyuàn's gloves, grumbling something about, 'Bastdard with long hair, fuckin' disgusting...'

Lǐ Xīnyuàn made a face under the mask, only to freeze the moment he examined his patient.

Stiffly, he demanded. “Why wasn't I informed that this man had sharpnels stuck so close to his heart??“ He turned to the stand-in leader. “Not even the heart! What is he, Tony fucking Starke?“

The terroist flinched, keeping his eyes on the scalpel in Lǐ Xīnyuàn's hand as the surgeon started doing his job in utter silence, feeling light-headed and weak as he tried to concentrate.

Truth be told, Lǐ Xīnyuàn had no desire to aid these people. But then, his Hippocratic oath stood in the way.

However, that's fine, Lǐ Xīnyuàn consoled himself as his hands moved with practiced, deadly precision, sweat forming on his brows as he frowned hard, to extricate a small bit of the shrapnel. I can always kill him and say it was inevitable.

Suddenly, his hand shook, shrapnel he pulled out using the forceps trembled. Lǐ Xīnyuàn's eyes widened as his vision blurred.

The first sign of his weak state.

Quickly picking out the shrapnel and dropping it on the tray with other pieces, Lǐ Xīnyuàn put down the scalpel and forceps, hunching forward as he took deep breaths.

The man acting as his assistant and captor frowned. “What happened, Dr. Lǐ?“

Lǐ Xīnyuàn's lips trembled as he struggled to form words through his faint consciousness. “Low... blood sugar..“ His hands shook more and more, tremors wrecking his entire body. “Should have, at least... given me time to drink something.“

The man's eyes widened in alarm, he had no intention of the surgeon dying here. “Can I help you?“

Lǐ Xīnyuàn's brows drew into a tight furrow as he blinked slowly. “Do you... have juice? Apple juice or cranberry juice? Even a little chocolate will help.“ He muttered, stabilising himself as he stood above his patient. “Sorry for this...“

The man rushed out quickly, presumably to fetch one of the things Lǐ Xīnyuàn listed. As the surgeon watched his captor rush out, he glanced at the patient on the operating table.

Without much time to think, he staggered back, trembling legs carrying him out of the OT, screw hygiene.

He rushed down the stairs as fast as his nauseous state would allow him. Lǐ Xīnyuàn had seen a hostage when he was taken to the OT.

Barging through door one after another, the frantic surgeon finally found the hostage he was looking for.

It was a young girl, bound by ropes and lying on the concrete floor.

Striding in quickly, Lǐ Xīnyuàn squatted in front of her, bloody hands reaching to loosen her ropes as he spoke faintly.

“You are on the third floor, if you jump down from that window on the left, you'll land into the forest behind this. From there, run for the nearest police station.“ He paused, blinking away the haze in his eyes. “No matter what, don't get caught.“ With that, he pushed the girl up her feet, not giving her enough time to react. “Run.“

As soon as the frightened girl nodded, jumping out of the left window, Lǐ Xīnyuàn let out a sigh of relief, limbs feeling weak and heavy as he turned around and rushed up the stairs.

By the time he reached at the door of the OT, the surgeon was a hair width away from fainting, he pale and dizzy while feeling nauseous at the same time.

Stumbling through the door, weakly walking towards the operating table, the last thing Lǐ Xīnyuàn saw before collapsing was the bright surgical light.

_

Lǐ Xīnyuàn was shaken awake and dragged to his feet after who knew how long.

“What?“ He groaned, disoriented.

“You passed out,” the terrorist answered, pushing a glass of juice against his lips. “Drink it and get back to work.“

Lǐ Xīnyuàn smiled wryly, gulping down the juice offered to him. He heard the terrorist speak.

“And I thought surgeons had endurance.“ That had the Lǐ scowling.

“Excuse me for passing out after performing three high intensity surgeries in past 10 hours without a break or a morsel of food down my throat,” he mumbled, fingers shaking. “Not to mention this is the fourth surgery I'm performing today and the first glass of fluid I'm having. If you wanted high success rate, should have kidnapped more surgeons.“ He groaned, adding. “There's no guarantee of success, these shrapnels are too small. Bloody wannabe Tony Starke motherfucker.“

Before the terrorist could reply, a lackey burst through the door.

“Sir! We are surrounded by armed forces!“ The man paled, head snapping towards the surgeon who returned his gaze blankly. “There's a helicopter flying above the building!“

Lǐ Xīnyuàn looked at the cut open patient on the operating table and raised his hands. “At least let me patch up the incision?“ He offered, turning back to the leader on the operating table, he picked up the tools to start stitching the cut.

As his hands worked on the cut, weaving through the skin, Lǐ Xīnyuàn blinked his eyes, feeling the cold metal touch his neck and no sooner, another gun rested on his forehead.

“You motherfucker,” the terrorist cursed as Lǐ Xīnyuàn continued stitching, unfazed. “You are dead.“ His finger curled against the trigger, ready to pull it.

Lǐ Xīnyuàn looked up, dark Obsidian eyes gleaming as he whispered. “Do it.“

The needle in his hand was replaced by the sharp bloody scalpel, his hand rising up as he plunged the blade into the unconscious man's heart, without flinching.

The monitor beeped, lines on the screen becoming erratic before finally, the man flat-lined. Beeps resounding in the chaos.

Harshly pulling out the blade, the surgeon drove it right into the man's throat, keeping his eye contact with his captor.

“Do it.“ He said again.

Bang!

A bullet shot on his back, followed by another on his chest.

Lǐ Xīnyuàn scoffed despite the pain shooting through his body.

Like hell they were leaving unscathed after this, he thought as he fell to the ground consciousness slipping away from his hands.