[{"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-231":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},1721531,2198,"Chapter 231 - 231 — Surgical Prep","marvel-a-lazy-ass-superman-chapter-231",231,"\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>A nurse wearing a mask — pretty eyes, even through the sterile glare — said softly:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>> \"All types of surgical tools are ready. Everything's been sterilized and sealed in the aseptic case.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>> \"Do you have any needles?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>> \"Needles? You mean suturing needles? We've got all sizes — at least three full sets of each.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>> \"Not that kind.\" The Tinkerer started to explain, then gave up.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Forget it. I'll use my own.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He walked back to his satchel and pulled out a rolled-up cloth bundle.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Glancing at the smug, clueless fat man on the sofa, the Tinkerer asked:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>> \"You want the surgery today? Or you'd rather wait for a special occasion — Thanksgiving, maybe Christmas?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The fat man blinked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>> \"Aren't you going to study my case first?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>> \"Sure. If you're willing to wait ten years while I do the research.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>> \"I can't last that long, can I?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>> \"That's why I picked that timeframe,\" the Tinkerer said flatly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If someone else had already done the diagnostics, he was fine working off their results. He had no interest in wasting neurons on a man who'd ignore any medical advice anyway.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For once, the man known as Old White — ruthless, decisive, a man who could order life or death in a word — hesitated.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He wasn't used to people talking to him like this. Usually, anyone below him trembled when he spoke — unless they belonged to a higher circle of power.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He knew the Tinkerer's identity: just a Continental Hotel service contractor. A technician, not an assassin. Not part of the High Table.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That meant this was \"personal business.\" As long as he didn't break the Hotel's rules — say, by sending a hit squad into their property — they wouldn't retaliate.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So why did this man act like he had nothing to fear? What was he relying on?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Old White thought and thought, but no answer came.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He lacked real medical knowledge and couldn't risk going to a legitimate hospital to confirm what this underground doctor had said. So his only choice was to believe or not believe.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And given how uncooperative the man was, trust didn't seem like the smart option. Should he just bury him and find someone else?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Maybe kidnap a top surgeon from one of the medical centers — safer that way. But could he even survive long enough for that? The clock was ticking.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Tinkerer couldn't read minds, but he didn't need to. The man's twitching expressions told the story — panic and hesitation fighting under the surface.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Finally, the fat man gave in. He'd had one of his men's severed hands reattached by this very doctor — perfectly restored, full mobility. That was proof enough.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Sure, grabbing a hospital surgeon would be riskier — and less controllable. Someone from the underworld, though… someone like the Tinkerer — would understand.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After running through the logic, Old White let out a breath, stood up with help from the two women beside him, and said:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>> \"If you're confident, we'll do it today. I've waited long enough.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Tinkerer smiled — a small, crooked grin that carried no warmth.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Old White didn't flinch. He'd seen worse. He still believed everything was under control.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The two of them walked toward the inflatable mobile operating room. The nurses and assistants immediately moved in, helping both surgeon and patient change into sterile gowns.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They were probably former doctors or nurses — people whose licenses had been revoked, or who'd been expelled from the system for one reason or another. Now, they worked in the shadows for big paydays and tighter lips.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Sure, it wasn't reassuring that the lead surgeon had only skimmed the files and decided to cut the same day. But everyone here had their own motives — the sooner this was over, the sooner they could get paid and leave.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They knew enough about procedures to do their part — and if something went wrong, it wouldn't be on them. Success or failure belonged to the lead surgeon.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Once everyone had changed, they passed through the disinfection corridor and entered the sterile inflatable OR.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Old White climbed onto the table himself, ready for anesthesia.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The anesthetist began his briefing:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>> \"We'll be performing general anesthesia. It'll take fifteen to twenty minutes to take full effect. There may be some discomfort during intubation. Please be aware, sir.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No consent forms were needed here — legality wasn't part of the process. The anesthetist simply took up a syringe and prepared to begin.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Tinkerer stopped him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>> \"Half-body anesthesia is enough.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>> \"But for a major surgery like this—\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>> \"I'm the lead surgeon,\" the Tinkerer snapped. \"You don't like my method, do it yourself. I'll walk.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The force in his voice made the others hesitate.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Oddly, the only person unfazed was Old White himself. He nodded for them to follow the Tinkerer's lead. Maybe it was resignation — or fatalism. He'd chosen to trust this man; now he had no choice but to trust him completely.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With help, the fat man rolled onto his side, hugging his knees into his chest like a shrimp — exposing his spine for the injection.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But finding the exact point through all that fat was another matter. Especially when the anesthetist wasn't exactly first-rate — more like someone kicked out of the profession for mistakes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Tinkerer couldn't watch anymore. He grabbed the syringe, found the spot, and administered the spinal block himself. Then he tossed the used syringe into the waste tray without ceremony.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The spinal anesthesia would take a minute or two to kick in. But that alone wasn't enough — the Tinkerer couldn't risk using his superhuman speed openly with so many eyes watching.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He needed the patient still, but awake.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So he unrolled his cloth bundle again — inside lay a neat row of gold acupuncture needles.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Tinkerer wasn't trained in formal Eastern or Western medicine. His methods were improvised, pragmatic — whatever worked, he used. He'd cauterized wounds with a soldering gun before; that said enough about his \"technique.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Acupuncture and nerve pathways had long been part of his self-taught experiments. Merging them with Western anatomy and neurology, he'd developed some unconventional tricks.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Within moments of the gold needles sliding into place, Old White realized — he couldn't feel anything below his neck.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was wide awake.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And terrified.\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>",1127,"2026-06-06T15:31:22.542Z",1,"novelbin.me","7987d9489bdd5dc3a31a98860d4fcb72c8f0f9b406e7beff8a4393be8042108e","marvel-a-lazy-ass-superman-chapter-232","marvel-a-lazy-ass-superman-chapter-230",556,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fmarvel-a-lazy-ass-superman-cover.jpg"]