Chapter 201: Life-Saving Money

The fat old white man threw a stack of documents, scattered on the table, and asked without rhyme or reason: "Can you do it?"

Looking at the scattered medical records, X-rays, and other materials, the tinkerer picked them up and flipped through them, saying: "Hilar cholangiocarcinoma?"

This was cancer developing from stage two to stage three. Besides removing the bile duct, it was also necessary to remove part of the liver where the cancer cells had spread and the surrounding tissues. Due to the considerable number of blood vessels and nerves nearby, the surgery was very difficult.

If the patient was the fat man in front of him, then how to clear a field of vision in the fat mass would take some effort.

But such a disease wasn't a problem in some top medical centers in the United States. There were plenty of brilliant doctors who could bring the dead back to life; some might even complain that the difficulty wasn't enough and throw it to other small doctors to handle.

So, having this kind of wealth but not daring to go to a big hospital only meant that this person had quite a bit of trouble and couldn't see the light of day.

The tinkerer didn't answer the fat old white man's question directly. Instead, he threw the materials in his hand back onto the table exactly as they were and asked: "Who is the patient?"

"Me. Just tell me if you can treat it."

"No, goodbye." As soon as he finished speaking, the tinkerer was about to get up and leave. It was just that he had only just stood up when he was pushed back down by the person standing behind the sofa.

The tinkerer, with a cigar in his mouth, glanced at the young white guy who had "invited" him, but didn't say much. Instead, the person being looked at said: "The boss is someone you can't afford to offend; you'd better think clearly about what you're doing."

Instead, he explained to the dissatisfied fat old white man: "Hilar cholangiocarcinoma still hasn't had a clear cause researched, so there's no way to find an effective prevention method. So most people's advice is to quit smoking, reduce alcohol consumption, maintain a normal weight, etc."

"Simply put, it's maintaining a healthy body to avoid getting liver disease, thereby reducing the risk of cholangiocarcinoma. But you—"

Never mind the cigar in the fat old white man's hand; the weight of that belly was probably seventy or eighty kilograms, and the whole person was over two hundred kilograms. He was also holding a girl in each arm, and there were several empty wine bottles scattered on the table.

Red wine, whiskey, vodka. To the tinkerer's knowledge, there wasn't that kind of cheap mixed liquor there. But mixing them? Even an elixir would turn into poison.

"—if you still maintain this lifestyle, even if I save you once, it will eventually recur sooner or later. Rather than having you complain afterward that my medical skills aren't good and ruining my reputation, I'd rather give up first."

What the tinkerer didn't say was that although it wasn't written on the other party's medical report, from the accidentally observed tongue coating, skin condition, and some abnormal symptoms on the body, the other party probably also had venereal disease.

Maybe it was even the disease of the century—AIDS.

These sexually transmitted diseases mainly spread through the exchange of body fluids, and blood was naturally one of the mediums.

To perform surgery on such a person, the doctor was equivalent to risking the danger of being infected. So many hospitals didn't accept such patients, and naturally wouldn't perform any medical behavior for them.

Actually, it was just surface contact; without wounds, there would be no infection. But he was afraid of people who touched things randomly with dirty hands, or who wiped their eyes, picked their teeth, or ate things without washing thoroughly, actively eating the virus into their stomachs. In this way, even if they weren't infected, they would be.

The problem was whether they were washed clean; this kind of thing couldn't be seen with the eyes, in the case of normal people. So those hospitals without full protective clothing and corresponding isolation and cleaning measures would rather not accept this kind of trouble.

However, this fat old white man caught people not to listen to these things. He said impatiently: "I'm just asking, can you perform this surgery? You don't need to consider anything else."

"Yes." The tinkerer told the truth.

The fat old white man pointed to the side, and then the lights turned on, illuminating the direction he pointed to, where there was a mobile inflatable sterile medical operating room. Beside it stood several men and women with relatively calm expressions, looking like doctors and nurses.

He continued to ask: "Besides those, what else do you need?"

Sitting majestically on the precious antique sofa chair, the tinkerer exhaled another circle of cigar smoke before saying in an indifferent attitude: "Your life-saving money, one million dollars."

The tinkerer's asking price stunned everyone present. Probably those few people standing by the inflatable operating room couldn't hear, but everyone else had a dumbfounded expression.

The fat old white man was worthy of being someone who had seen the world. He recovered the fastest and laughed domineeringly: "I like you very much; you are very good at telling jokes that make people laugh. And you have the guts to say it in front of me, not bad, this is very not bad."

"I'm serious, one million dollars, otherwise no deal." The tinkerer emphasized again.

He looked at the fat old white man who had suddenly quieted down and changed his face. Although the tinkerer didn't have the same momentum, he had an indifferent look.

In contrast, that fat old white man was so annoyed that he couldn't speak, and the veins on his forehead were even more exposed. "I've never heard of you ever charging such a large medical fee. You wouldn't be treating me as someone easy to bully, would you?"

"How could that be, sir." The tinkerer explained his behavior: "I have always charged life-saving money. Some people's lives are expensive, some people's lives are cheap."

"Like the two bitches beside you, for the same surgery, I would charge them one hundred to two hundred dollars, depending on my mood. But if it's this guy, —"

The tinkerer pointed to the man standing behind him who had invited him.

"—this guy's life-saving money is only twenty-three dollars and seventy-five cents. Even if I charged him a penny more, it would be overestimating him. The ones I treated before were also poor people who couldn't get enough to eat. Their lives are cheap, so the life-saving money naturally can't be much."

"But sir, you are different. You look like you have received a good education, live a luxurious life, and have a confidante; you definitely wouldn't want to die too early. Then the question is, how much money are you willing to spend to exchange for health, or just to live a few more years?"

Facts proved that there were some people in this world who couldn't be shaken by glib talk. This fat old white man didn't want to pay attention to the logic in the tinkerer's mouth at all, but gave his subordinate a wink.

Immediately, a gun was pointed at the back of the tinkerer's head. He didn't respond to anything, just said: "I'll ask one more time, can the surgery be done?"

: This is... not understanding the situation? Or is there another intention?

He took another puff of the cigar and exhaled thick white smoke. The tinkerer said simply: "Yes."

Pointing to the mobile operating room on the side, the fat old white man said: "Go prepare. And my life-saving money is your life. If you want to live, it's best that I can live too."

: It seems this is a guy who doesn't understand the situation.

Thinking of this, the tinkerer felt a bit bored. He held the cigar in his mouth with a lack of interest and walked toward the inflatable mobile operating room, not even carrying his handbag.

After approaching, he just asked the others: "Are the surgical tools complete?"