Sterling would feel uncomfortable all over every time he thought about these things. He gnawed his teeth and glared furiously at Charles' back.
They were young and still had many days ahead of them. One day, he would make this bastard Charles pay the price!
Even though he was getting glared at, Charles still stared straight at the emergency room. Not once did he turn to look back at Sterling.
Not long after, doctors and nurses pushed a transfer bed and hurried over. Victor exchanged a few words with them with a solemn look on his face before leading them to Charles.
"Get on the bed, Mr. Harris. They will treat the wound for you," Victor walked to Charles and said.
Charles glanced at the tightly sealed emergency room door, hesitated for a moment, and nodded slightly. With the patient blouse in his hand, he laid down on the transfer bed with some effort.
"Give me the thing thatâs in your hand." The nurses pushed the transfer bed toward the emergency room on the other side in a hurry. One of the nurses grabbed the corner of the torn patient blouse and said very quickly.
Charles covered his abdomen that was bleeding nonstop with one hand and the torn patient blouse with another. He pulled it back and said, "Itâs fine.
I can hold it."
The nurse did not insist further after hearing what he said and loosened her grip on the blouse.
Lying on the transfer bed, Charles stared at the emergency room door that was still closed through the gap between the nurses. His pupils darkened as he held even tighter to the patient blouse in his hand.
He only retracted his gaze when he was pushed into the emergency room and the door was closed.
The doctors and nurses transferred Charles to the operating bed and laid out a bunch of surgical instruments and drugs that were needed to treat his wounds. Then, a nurse took out a few vials and sucked them with a syringe after mixing them. She lowered her head and was ready to inject it into Charlesâ arm.
"Is there anesthetic in it?" Charles stopped the nurse and asked.
His wound was deep and needed to be dealt with immediately. The nurse was sweating profusely and was in no mood to answer a non-professional question from a non-professional.
Charles' identity, however, left the nurse no choice but to reply patiently, "Yes."
Not one word more.
The nurse grabbed Charles' arm, wiped it with an alcohol swab, squeezed out a small portion of the air bubbles in the syringe, and was prepared to give him an injection.
"I don't need anesthetic, tranquilizers, or anything of that sort. Get rid of those things for me," Charles said.
Sophia had been sent into the emergency room for a while now. He wanted to finish the operation as soon as possible. He wanted to know her condition immediately even if it might not be convenient for him to see her.
Before the nurse could say anything this time, the doctor pulled a long face and refused. "No! Itâs necessary for us to administer anesthetics and tranquilizers. You wonât be able to stand the pain if we donât administer them!â
"I refuse to get the injection, thanks," Charles said, turning his head to look at the doctor.
The doctor looked even more sullen now. He was busy enough yet still had to deal with his unreasonable demands. "Mr. Harris, you may have gotten used to ordering people around. However, weâre in the hospital and youâre my patient. You have to listen to me."
"There were patients who were afraid that the injection of anesthetics would harm their body and all sorts of things like that. Hence, they were adamant to not get anesthetics. At the start of the operation, however, they could not stand it and we still had to inject anesthetics and tranquilizers in the end.
"If this is what youâre concerned about, Mr. Harris, then I can assure you that injecting anesthetics and tranquilizers will bring no harm to your body.
He spoke with great haste in order to save as much time as possible as the nurses next to him prepared for the operation in a quick and methodical way.
"I will be able to stand it," Charles said. "I will bear all consequences if I cause any unnecessary trouble for not injecting these drugs."
Doctors hated patients like that the most. They liked to command others when they had no clue about anything at all. While holding the needles required to suture his wound later, he yelled, âThe wound on your lower abdomen isnât long but itâs deep. The wound on your hand isnât deep but itâs long. They both need to be sutured through an operation.
"These two wounds need at least dozens of stitches combined, and every stitch will pierce through your skin. Can you bear this kind of pain?!â
Charles hummed a response without even hesitating for a single moment. Even his countenance remained the same.
"Everything is ready, Doctor Wyatt," a nurse said.
The doctor looked at Charles with a sullen face for a good while and said, "If you insist, then I have nothing to say. Tell me when you canât stand it and I will administer anesthetic and tranquilizers for you."
"Okay." Charles nodded at the doctor.
"Get ready." The doctor said to the nurses, "Get someone to hold him down. Make sure he doesnât move around."
A nurse responded and stepped forward with a solemn look on her face. She exerted all her strength to press down on Charles' body firmly so that he would not twist his body if the pain was too much for him to bear as it would end up affecting the doctorâs operation instead.
The moment the needle and thread touched his skin and flesh, the blue veins on Charles' forearm bulged up. There was no trace of blood on his good-looking face as sweat flowed down his forehead heavily.
The nurse who was pressing down on him exerted more strength and braced for it in case he put up a fight. To her surprise, apart from applying a bit of force, he did not struggle even for a bit.
She was slightly taken aback. No ordinary person could endure this kind of pain. She was surprised to see that a mighty president who had lived a life of comfort and luxury could endure this kind of pain without a single complaint.
This time, the doctor used more force just to get Charles to give up earlier so they could administer anesthetics and finish the operation quickly.
To his surprise, however, he was able to bear it even after a long time. Apart from his slightly pale face, he did not make any excessive movements at all.
The doctor was slightly astonished, but he did not say anything. He was much gentler in handling his wounds now.
The bone-piercing pain traveled all the way to his cranial nerves along his limbs and bones. Charles was breathing slightly more rapidly than usual.
His sweat continued to flow out incessantly.
After a while, his face was already covered with sweat. Even his shirt was drenched in sweat as it stuck to his broad back.
"Tell me if you canât stand it. Itâs still not too late to administer the anesthetics now. This is just the beginning," the doctor paused and said, looking at him.
"No." Charles clenched the patient blouse in his hand and said, "Can you please hurry up? Iâm in a hurry."
The doctor frowned. "It will hurt even more if I speed up."
"Sure," Charles replied as soon as his voice fell.
Atrophy of Love: Mr. Harris, Stop Fooling Around!
ï¤Chapter 163 You Still Refuse To Let Soph Go?
The doctor darted him an ambiguous glance and started stitching faster without a word.
Every passing minute and second the needle and thread pierced through his flesh was an agony. Even though Charles was in pain, he could not stop thinking about Sophia. The pain he was suffering at this moment was nothing compared to his heartache.
Misunderstanding... Zachary was right. It was just a misunderstanding. She had never shared any ambiguous relationship with William.
Despite that, he did not feel even remotely happy about it. He would rather have her betraying him in the first place because at the very least, she would be the one who had let him down instead of being the one who got wrongly accused by him.