[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-marvel-a-lazy-ass-superman":3,"chapter-marvel-a-lazy-ass-superman-marvel-a-lazy-ass-superman-chapter-214":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"english","Marvel: A Lazy-Ass Superman",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},1721514,2198,"Chapter 214 - 214 – An Unexpected Surgery Opportunity","marvel-a-lazy-ass-superman-chapter-214",214,"\u003Cp>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For 20 advanced chapters, visit my Patreon:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Patreon - Twilight_scribe1\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>> \"Do you want to live?\" Henry asked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>> \"Do you want to die?\" the old man on the table shot back, struggling to sit up.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Henry swept the gold coins the Slavic man had laid on the table into his palm — but he only kept one, pushing the rest back toward their owner.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>> \"If you want me to help him,\" he said evenly, \"get a few men to hold him down.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Slavic man slipped the coins back into his pocket, nodded once, and gestured behind him. A few burly Russians stepped forward, each taking hold of one of the old man's limbs.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>> \"You bastards!\" the old man roared. \"What the hell do you think you're doing? Let me go or I'll put a bullet in every last one of you!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Slavic man gave a weary smile.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>> \"If you don't let him fix you, you won't get the chance.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Henry tore open the blood-soaked shirt around the bullet wound. It was near the lower left lung lobe, and the blood leaking out looked wrong — too dark, too thick, almost black.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And the old man was coughing violently. That coughing was exactly what had made the earlier medics give up; every time he convulsed, they lost control of the wound. The rough handling had only earned them shouted curses and spit-flecked threats.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Without hesitation, Henry pressed his palm hard against the man's chest.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The old man nearly sprang off the table from the pain, headbutting upward with enough force to knock Henry out — if not for the men restraining him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Henry looked down at him calmly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>> \"You've got lung cancer, don't you?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>> \"You've got lung cancer! Your whole damn family's got lung cancer! Your—\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The old man's rant cut off in another vicious coughing fit, hacking so hard he nearly vomited up a lung.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Henry grinned.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>> \"Lucky you. I already promised to treat you. And hey — I've never done lung surgery before. Actually… I've never done any surgery before.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The old man's eyes bulged.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>> \"What the hell are you planning, you quack?!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>> \"I'm helping you.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>> \"I didn't ask for your help! Get out — get out!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>> \"Too late. I already agreed to save you. You think refusing me will stop a doctor with a scalpel? You'll need to check into a real hospital for that.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Henry's tone was light, almost cheerful. But his eyes were sharp and unblinking.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He took stock of his equipment — a small first-aid kit, nowhere near enough for real surgery. And there was the issue of anesthesia.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Major operations were supposed to use general anesthesia — so patients wouldn't thrash around or scream in agony while their insides were opened up. Too much anesthetic could kill; too little, and the patient might die from shock or movement.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Henry, of course, was no licensed surgeon. And this wasn't a sterile operating room — just a bloodstained lounge of the Los Angeles Continental Hotel.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So, he improvised.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He took a handful of sewing needles, sterilized them, and stuck them into precise points around the wound — makeshift acupuncture pins to disrupt nerve signals and dull sensation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It wasn't perfect. He couldn't paralyze the whole body temporarily like a real anesthesiologist could. The Russians still had to pin the old man down.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He didn't need a huge field of vision, though — only a small workspace. With some creativity, he could approximate a minimally invasive surgery by modern standards, even if his tools were decades behind.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of course, he didn't have a Da Vinci surgical robot, but he could still minimize the incision.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Inside Henry's head, a full surgical plan ran through his superhuman brain a thousand times in an instant — each step simulated, perfected, executed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And before anyone could react, amid the old man's furious screaming—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Henry made the first cut.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The motion was clean, confident. He removed the embedded bullet as easily as he had from the others — sometimes not even needing to enlarge the wound. A quick twist with the forceps, and the slug dropped neatly into the metal tray.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If internal bleeding wasn't severe, Henry avoided widening the incision — faster healing, less trauma.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But the lung cancer… that was another matter.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fortunately, the gangsters surrounding him were hardly medical experts. Most of them couldn't tell a scalpel from a steak knife. They had no idea what Henry was actually doing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So, without an ounce of guilt, Henry worked. The rib cage, adhesions, bleeding — none of it fazed him. His superhuman reflexes and speed made even the old man's thrashing manageable.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The old man's voice, hoarse and furious, filled the room.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>> \"You quack! You goddamn butcher! I'll report you — have your license revoked! What kind of surgery is this?!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Henry chuckled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>> \"Oh, don't worry about that. You can't revoke a license I don't have.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>> \"What?! Then where the hell did you study medicine? From Gypsies? African witch doctors?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>> \"Relax. I studied at the Los Angeles Public Library,\" Henry replied with a straight face. \"Did postgraduate work in the New York Public Library, too. My knowledge is broad and cutting-edge — far beyond tribal medicine.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>> \"You… you never even went to medical school, and you're cutting me open?!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>> \"You don't even have medical insurance,\" Henry shot back. \"What good would a certified doctor do you? What's more important — getting treated, or seeing my diploma? Or do you think med school grads can't be quacks too? That's discrimination!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>> \"This has nothing to do with discrimination, you crazy bastard! If I get off this table, I'll— I'll kill you myself!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even the Russians restraining him began to exchange uneasy glances.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They weren't sure if they should let him go — or if doing so would make things worse. After all, the man's chest was already wide open. It was far too late to stop.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>> \"Aaghhh!\" the old man screamed, thrashing with wild strength.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>More men piled on to hold him down.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Henry didn't care whether the cries were from pain or pure rage. His focus was absolute.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He worked steadily, heart pounding beside his hands, the charred black tissue of a diseased lung lobe glistening under dim light. The sight was… exhilarating.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With a precise motion, Henry clamped and removed the black, tumor-ridden chunk of lung, dropping it into the tray beside the bullet with a wet clink. Then he tied off vessels, closed the incision, and sealed the chest with practiced, if unorthodox, speed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The old man had been cursing non-stop — until the final stitch was done. Then, as Henry pulled out the makeshift acupuncture needles, the man went limp, collapsing like a puppet with its strings cut.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The room went silent.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Russians slowly released their grip, staring at the unconscious man — and at Henry, whose hands were still steady and clean.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No one spoke. No one quite knew what they had just witnessed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>🎉 Power Stone Goal Announcement! 🎉\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I'll release one bonus chapter for every 500 Power Stones we hit!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Let me know what should I do\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Your support means everything—let's crush these goals together! Keep voting, and let the stones pile up! 🚀\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~\u003C\u002Fp>",1225,"2026-06-06T15:31:22.542Z",1,"novelbin.me","15289be5dbb7c5736d4dd76ea5e7cf2af15f03fed7584ffc04d4e956a3c8d1cf","marvel-a-lazy-ass-superman-chapter-215","marvel-a-lazy-ass-superman-chapter-213",556,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fmarvel-a-lazy-ass-superman-cover.jpg"]