“How could I know why she harmed him?" she whispered. "To put it bluntly, I don't believe she means any good."

“Don't make that claim without proof," said Forrest.

Reluctantly, she kept quiet.

About an hour later.

The door to the operating room opened, and a nurse emerged. She inquired, "May I know who the patient's family is?"

Upon hearing her voice, Wynter hastened over and asked, "How is he? Is he awake?"

“The doctor needs to conduct a check-up before we can determine his status. We require the family's signature," the nurse replied, handing over the examination report. "Who will sign?"

“I'll sign it," said Forrest.

Taking the pen, he signed the document.

Wynter interposed, blocking the nurse's path. "Tell me, how is he? Is he awake?"

“I'm just a nurse. I'm not privy to the details of the surgery," the nurse stated.

Forrest gently pulled Wynter away.

“Calm down."

“How can I be calm?" Wynter, realizing her previous anxiety was too conspicuous, quickly sought an excuse.

“Mr. Johnston needs him urgently. But he had an accident..."

Her expression turned mournful.

Forrest took a deep breath.

“I believe he'll be fine."

He held faith in the competence of the doctors at Military Central Hospital.

Simultaneously, he was comforting himself.

After two hours, the Light outside the room went off.

The surgeon, dressed in blue, emerged from the room and removed his mask.

Forrest approached and said, “How's it going?" with concern on his face.

Wynter, too, glanced intently at the doctor.

The doctor whom Forrest was acquainted with agreed to perform the emergency situation. However, the patient's condition right now had taken the turn for the worst.