Chapter 3

The next morning, the signs of death were more punctual than any medical instrument could have predicted.

The pain is subsiding.

The suffocating feeling that had been tormenting me for so long has subsided.

As a former medical student, I know better than anyone what this means—severe ischemia caused by end-stage heart failure has caused my nervous system to begin to lose its sense of pain.

In this brief moment of clarity, like a final burst of light before death, I lay quietly in my hospital bed, staring at the pale white light tubes on the ceiling.

A commotion came from the direction of the nurses' station, followed by the extremely crisp sound of shoes stepping on the corridor floor tiles.

That was Sarah's footsteps.

But she was kept out – last night, Davis had locked the ICU access control as I had instructed .

"Beep—beep—" The sensor emitted a red light warning tone indicating that access was denied.

The next second, the wall-mounted loudspeaker was forcibly switched on, and Sarah's cold and clearly impatient voice, accompanied by a faint static, rang out in my hospital room: "Ivan, do you think you're funny?"

I struggled to tilt my heavy head toward the glass door.

Her figure was somewhat blurry in my vision. I could only vaguely see her wearing a spotless white coat, walking past several bewildered nurses, straight to the glass door, and crossing her arms.

“Five minutes ago, I received an official email saying you withdrew your core clinical data! We need that data to apply for a multi-million dollar medical grant next month ! ” Her voice was flat and emotionless over the loudspeaker, filled only with annoyance at her subordinate’s overstepping and extreme behavior. “Cutting off access, withdrawing the data, and then lying in there pretending to be on the verge of dying… Did you think you could force me to give you back your heart transplant by playing such a clumsy trick?”

Seeing that I didn't react, she stared intently at Davis inside the room: "Davis, are you going to join in his nonsense too?! Don't forget you're a doctor!"

She didn't even bother to look closely at the readings on the monitor, convinced that this was just a ploy to force her to submit.

Davis glared at her fiercely: "Don't forget you're a doctor!"

I opened my chapped lips, but no sound came out.

At that very moment, a violent spasm came from deep within my chest, like a rusty gear finally snapping its spring.

"Tick-tock"

The monitor by the bedside, which had been languishing in its monotonous state, suddenly emitted a long, extremely piercing red beep.

"Beep—beep—beep—!!"

My vision began to shake violently, my heart sank into a completely ineffective, lethal ventricular fibrillation, and my blood stopped flowing altogether.

“Ivan?!” Davis turned around abruptly upon hearing the alarm, his voice instantly turning into a sob, “Ventricular fibrillation!”

Even though I had signed the do-not-resuscitate order, in that split second as I watched myself walk toward death, Davis's instincts still overcame his reason.

But it didn't work.

Even with a defibrillator, the heart remains stagnant.

Sarah's extremely cold sneer still rang out from the loudspeaker.

"Davis, your acting is really good."

Her voice clearly cut through the beeping of the defibrillator charging, "To cooperate with his act, you even used a real defibrillator? How many medical resources do you intend to waste in this ward before you're willing to end this farce?"

In her eyes, this chaotic last-minute rescue was nothing more than a farce that I had orchestrated under her very nose by bribing a friend .

"Chest compressions!"

Ignoring the sounds outside the door, Davis jumped onto the trolley's footrest, pressed his hands firmly against my sternum, and began to press down desperately.

In the last glimmer of my vision, I looked through Davis's undulating arms and out the glass door.

She remained standing there with her arms crossed, observing coldly through the glass as if watching a low-quality circus.

That last glance exhausted all my strength. The boundless darkness completely swallowed me, and the muffled sounds of compressions on my chest gradually faded into the distance.

Just a second before I completely detached the body, the chaotic alarms on the monitor stopped. It transformed into a straight green line that would never rise or fall again.

"drop----"

The long, silent wail that signaled final death echoed throughout the ICU.

I can no longer feel any pain; all that remains is the last vestige of hearing that is gradually fading away.

Davis's heavy, labored pressing finally stopped.

The ward fell into a deathly silence, with only the sound of microwaves coming from the loudspeaker.

"Alright, the ECG is flat. If the chest compressions stop, can we wrap this up now?"

Sarah's voice came through the microphone, still as arrogant as ever, even with the urgency of preparing for a consultation, "Davis, tell him to stop pretending, make him get up and sign the data authorization. I still have Liam's surgery to do..."

Her extremely impatient words abruptly stopped a second later.

Because in the last bit of hearing I had left, I heard a faint "swish" sound of fabric rubbing against each other beside the hospital bed.

Davis ignored her.

Without a word, he put down the resuscitation equipment, his eyes red, and reached out to pull up the thick, sterile white sheet at the foot of my bed.

Then, under Sarah's watchful eye from outside the door, she slowly pulled the sheet up until it completely covered my head.

"Resuscitation efforts have failed..."

Davis's voice was hoarse and choked with sobs as he read the most chilling, routine clinical closure statement into the medical recorder on his sleeve: "Patient Ivan Hayes...time of death, 8:14 a.m.

The monitor in the ward was still emitting that piercing, long beep that signaled the end of life.

Davis expressionlessly pulled out all the tubes. Then, he pulled up the heavy white sheet and slowly covered the lifeless face with it.

He didn't ask anyone for help; he simply pushed the heavy wheeled hospital bed by himself and pressed the switch by the door.

"laugh--"

The heavy glass doors slid open to the sides. Davis pushed the hospital bed out.

Outside the door, Sarah was still standing there, her face full of impatience. When she saw Davis push out a hospital bed covered with a white sheet, her brows furrowed tightly, and she stood directly in front of the bed with a cold expression.

"Davis, when will you two ever stop?" Sarah's tone was full of condescending frustration. "Pretending to faint wasn't enough, now you've even covered him with a white sheet? Where are you pushing him? To force me to back down, you're even resorting to such a low-down script as faking death, aren't you?"

She simply doesn't believe I'm dead .

In her subconscious, I was just throwing a tantrum at her.

"Get out of my way." Davis looked at her coldly, his eyes devoid of any emotion.

"I'd like to see how long he can hold his breath!"

Sarah ignored the warnings, grabbed the bed railing, and ripped open the white sheet:

"Ivan! Get up right now, my patience is running out..."

Her condescending rebuke abruptly ceased the moment she saw the face on the bed.