Chapter 2364: Psychic Assault (XII)

Chapter 2357 Psychic Assault (12)

"You have to believe what I say. It's not a good thing to let those ordinary people participate early. It is the same for both of us. You are too hasty, Nick!"

Strange stood in the middle of Nick's office, looked at Nick seriously and said, "The fact is that they are good at screwing up everything, everything!"

Nick was not angry, he just sighed and said: "Stephen, I can understand that you have been a genius since you were a child. You look at ordinary people and always have shortcomings, and feel that their efficiency is too low compared to yours."

"But I hope you don't forget who we are launching this project for. The main body of the human race is still ordinary people with low efficiency. A few elites can lead society, but they cannot control society, let alone directly isolate themselves from society. ”

"I never said that we would be isolated from society." Strange pinched his eyebrows and said: "You are always good at misinterpreting what I mean. I mean that in the current solar system development plan, most of the work has not yet been completed. It’s so deep that ordinary people can do it.”

Nick shook his head again and said: "That's because you have been away from the earth for too long. You see, Peter's uncle Ben Parker is just an ordinary person, but he has become the president of the shuttle terminal in Manhattan through learning on the job. Engineers suddenly became the elite middle class.”

"This is the purpose of our development, to provide more jobs, higher salaries, and more valuable work, and to raise the production and living standards of the entire human society to a higher level."

Strange also sighed and said, "You have never thought about where Peter Parker's genius comes from."

"Are you a blood-only person?"

"Of course not, my dad couldn't even get into community college." Strange looked into Nick's eyes and said, "In addition to innate IQ, wisdom also comes from character. Peter is the super guy with the best character I have ever seen. Hero, that is inseparable from his uncle’s teachings.”

"This proves that Ben Parker may not have a super high IQ, but his wisdom in dealing with people must be very strong. To a certain extent, it was the original society that delayed him, and you just put him back in the correct position."

"But some people are not. You have to believe that there are some people in this world who deserve their current situation. Maybe not all, but if such a person is placed in a key position, it will be all over."

Nick obviously disagreed. He said: "Human beings can be re-educated in labor. If they work correctly, get the rewards they deserve, and have the life they want, then there are no bad habits that cannot be changed."

"Yes, of course it is if you retrain a generation." Strange said: "But the problem is that if you want to recruit workers directly from the society, the people who come are adults, and there is not much room for them to change."

"We can set strict screening conditions." Nick said: "Screen out those who lack ability or are full of bad ideas."

"But people change."

"It usually doesn't change for the worse, and even if it does, we can stop them and make them pay."

Strange sighed deeply.

Nick stepped forward, put his hand on his shoulder and said, "We must give them enough opportunities. Even if we have to pay some price, we cannot use this as an excuse to never take that step."

"Otherwise things will get worse. We say they are not suitable, everyone is saying they are not suitable, and then they also feel that they are not suitable. In the end, everything will fall into the hands of a small group of people, but in fact that small group Not suitable, not more qualified than anyone else, and disaster happened.”

Strange pursed his lips, knowing that he could not convince Nick, but he also used his own attitude to express his disapproval, saying: "You already knew what kind of price this would cost you, right? "

"I made the decision and took responsibility for it, bearing all the consequences. If they're going to write me down as a villain in the history books, they'd better write me down as a cool guy."

The atmosphere in the office was solemn. All the interns stood straight in a row, not daring to breathe. Everyone had their heads lowered. If their gazes were meaningful, a piece of the floor tile would have been chipped away.

The doctor sitting at the desk seemed to feel nothing. He stood up, put down his pen, glanced around and said, "I was busy some time ago and didn't have time to follow your internship."

"Starting from today, I will perform an average of six operations a day, each operation takes at least three hours. Everyone takes turns to go on stage. Each person is guaranteed to have ten hours of internship time every day. All the time outside the operating room is not included. In the first two days, we are familiar with each other. The process doesn’t count either.”

There were gasps in the room, and some people couldn't help but turn their heads to look at the sign hanging outside the department - Neurosurgery.

Six operations a day in neurosurgery can really kill people, because this department is often not on stage. Once on stage, it is full of difficult and complicated diseases, which are a matter of life and death.

If an operation can be completed within four hours, it is considered a mild case. When it comes to extremely serious and difficult diseases, it is normal for four or five doctors to take turns to perform it for twenty or thirty hours. If one person performs six operations a day, then there is only one sentence that can describe it - - "He is God, but occasionally thinks he is a doctor."

And standing in front of them was indeed God, the world's most famous neurosurgeon, Stephen Strange, known as the Hand of God.

Then they began to whine about their future lives. They had to work on the operating table for ten hours a day, but if they wanted to memorize all the theoretical content, they would need at least eight hours a day. Minus the time for eating, which was necessary for survival, they would be lucky to sleep four or five hours a day.

"By the way, don't go to the corridor on the left side of the first floor of the next building." Strange said, "If you are absent for this reason, get out of this office."

After that, he strode out of the door and prepared to go to the operation. Others dared not breathe until the sharp ring of the phone broke the silence.

"Oh, hello, yes, but he just left and asked me to tell him... OK, no problem."

"Who?"

"A psychiatrist, seems to be friends with Dr. Strange."

"Isn't it Dr. Schiller?"

"Of course, who else can be called friends with Dr. Strange?"

"But I heard that they don't have a good relationship." A female intern lowered her voice and gossiped: "Dr. Strange often doesn't give Dr. Schiller face during consultations."

"It seems that it's because Dr. Schiller is often late."

"Oh my God, if we are late..."

"I will die."

In Schiller's office, Charles was looking at the case with relish. It can be said that the interns in the psychiatry department are the least boring among all departments when reading medical records.

There is a very important requirement in the psychiatry department, that is, when writing medical records, you must record what the patient said. After all, psychiatry is different from other departments. You can't see pathological images. The patient's movements, expressions and language are direct evidence of whether the symptoms have improved.

This results in most of the cases written by psychiatrists looking like fantasy novels. In the mouths of one patient after another, the hospital can be a temple, a dungeon, or even the folds on the back of a mushroom, but it is definitely not a hospital.

The doctors and nurses here can be demons and angels, goblins and elves, or ladybugs that land on mushrooms, but they are definitely not doctors and nurses.

Reading such cases is not only not a boring time, but can even be called an extremely interesting pastime. However, the price is that it is easy to only remember the story, not the judgment, and answer questions in the examination room with a blank mind.

The examiners in Schiller's department basically don't read medical records, because Schiller's medical records are particularly interesting, always full of emotion and fascinating, and seem endless, which wastes too much study time.

But Charles obviously has no such troubles, so when he is not seeing patients, he hides in the ward and reads a lot.

Dinglingling, dinglingling.

"Hello, hello, this is the psychiatric department... Oh, really? Tell him that I miss him too. Yes, of course I remember, Grete, we agreed to defeat the Red Flame Dragon together next time. Don't worry, I didn't forget... Well, okay, goodbye."

"Hello, hello, this is... Oh, Miss Onion, yes, your nurse is right, you have to take your magic pill first to defeat all the onions around you and become the tallest one. The nurse didn't lie to you, I promise, okay, see you tomorrow."

"Hello? Uh... No, head nurse, listen to me, the 5000 ml yesterday was definitely an accident, and the 600 tablets today may also be shock therapy. Yes, this lady has always had her own unique understanding of adequate medication. Otherwise, you can prescribe the medicine and send the remaining 540 tablets to my office..."

As expected, the head nurse's roar came from the phone again, Schiller threw the phone far away again, and Charles sighed in his heart.

In the past few days, he almost understood what kind of image Schiller had in the hospital. It was mainly because he read the minds of doctors and nurses who had seen Lisa and Oaks more deeply when he modified their memories, and then he knew what was going on.

Schiller had a history of drug addiction and alcoholism. He would not go to consultations and lectures if he could. He was always late for important lectures, and he always mingled with the mental patients he was responsible for, always standing on the side of the patients. Many nurses and doctors were annoyed by him.

However, they all had a unified understanding that Schiller really had a way with these strange mental patients. He could always make them laugh and satisfy the patients and their families. He was also the mainstay of New York Presbyterian Hospital's impact on the top three rankings in the psychiatric department this year.

It turned out that he was so professional. Charles looked down at the medical records again. Anyway, he really couldn't find a better excuse to deal with the degenerative hallucinations and vegetative delusions in the two phone calls just now.

However, he was still somewhat dissatisfied with Schiller's negative work attitude, because in just a short time, Schiller had pushed back at least two or three requests for him to go over and check the situation, and they all sounded very urgent.

I must persuade him to go next time, Charles silently made up his mind in his heart. Other departments were busy, and they were the only ones who had so much free time. If they had this time, they could comfort the patients more.

"Hello, hello, Psychiatry 3102."

Charles immediately pricked up his ears, he knew the opportunity had come.

"What? A student is suicidal?"

Schiller stood up, and Charles also stood up.

"Catherine? Which department is she from? Neurosurgery?...Oh." Schiller dragged out a long tone and sat down again, "I know her, Linda, an intern in Neurosurgery 1001, a student of Dr. Stephen Strange."

"It's okay, I don't have to go. You just need to tell Dr. Strange to stop talking about how she dared to come to him as an intern after only publishing 47 papers, and make sure she stays healthy."

Schiller hung up the phone with a snap, and turned to Charles and stared at him.

"What's wrong?"

"Aren't we going?"

"You go if you want to go, but I'm not going anyway."

"No, we'll go together."

Schiller and Charles stared at each other for 30 seconds, and finally gave in. He said, "Okay, let's go see Linda, but you have to promise me not to talk to that long-faced doctor."

"Why?"

"We are in a cold war."

"Why are you in a cold war?"

"Because he said that my return to the hospital would significantly lower the moral level of clinical medicine in New York."

Charles opened his mouth.

"What did you want to say just now?" Schiller asked with narrowed eyes.

"Nothing." Charles looked away and said, "Not really."

"That's about right."

"At most, it's in the field of clinical psychiatry."

_(:з”∠)_