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墨書 Inktalez
I stood at the door of the operating room, my heart pounding like a drum. As a "family member of the patient," I was about to witness my own death. This absurd experience sent chills down my spine.
The moment I pushed the door open, the sharp smell of disinfectant hit me. I forced myself to endure the discomfort and quietly slipped into a corner of the operating room. The busy figures of the medical staff blurred before my eyes as I struggled to concentrate, fixating on the "me" lying on the Operating Table.
Chief Surgeon Doctor Zhang was fully focused on the instruments in his hands. I recognized him as a reliable-looking middle-aged doctor. Yet at that moment, I could see an unusual hint of anxiety in his slightly furrowed brow.
"Blood pressure is a bit low; we need to be careful," Anesthesiologist Doctor Li suddenly reminded him. Doctor Zhang nodded, but his movements showed no hesitation. I secretly breathed a sigh of relief; everything seemed to be going normally.
However, just then, I noticed a detail that sent alarm bells ringing in my mind—the scalpel handed to Doctor Zhang seemed different from what I remembered. The blade was slightly curved, glinting with an eerie light under the surgical lamp.
Something was off! My heart raced with panic. That knife was definitely not the standard surgical type!
"Wait!" I blurted out, "That knife has a problem!"
But no one acknowledged my outburst. They continued their work as if I didn’t exist at all. I stomped my feet in frustration, but no matter how much I shouted or even tried to grab their sleeves, there was no response.
Despair washed over me as I realized that I was merely a "ghost," unable to intervene in the course of this surgery.
Everything that happened next felt like a nightmare replaying itself. I watched helplessly as the life signs of "myself" began to plummet, witnessing the frantic efforts of the medical staff to revive me, and finally seeing the electrocardiogram flatline...
The fear of death consumed me once again. I felt a wave of dizziness wash over me, and my consciousness began to fade...
When I opened my eyes again, the familiar ceiling came into view. I lay in a hospital bed, sunlight streaming through the window, and birds chirping joyfully outside.
I sat up abruptly, gasping for air. I was back, back to the morning of the surgery. This absurd cycle filled me with immense frustration and confusion. I buried my face in my palms, trying to calm my rapid breathing.
Calm down, Lin Hao, think this through.
Recalling everything I had seen in the operating room, a terrifying thought suddenly flashed through my mind—could this medical accident have been anything but an accident? Was it deliberately caused?
That strange scalpel, Doctor Zhang's unusual anxiety, and then...
I strained to remember other details. Right, Anesthesiologist Li—Doctor Li. There seemed to be something off between him and Doctor Zhang; their conversation carried an almost imperceptible tension.
My mind raced. If someone was indeed committing murder, then the suspect was likely within the hospital.
I had to uncover the truth; otherwise, this damned cycle would never end. I clenched my fists, resolute.
In the next loop, I would infiltrate the operating room under a different identity. I would observe everyone closely, searching for any suspicious clues.
Just then, a nurse entered the room, interrupting my thoughts.
"Mr. Lin, please get ready; we are about to take you to the operating room."
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to wear a calm smile.
"Alright, I'm ready."
Lying on the stretcher, I secretly calculated my plan.
This time, I needed to focus on Doctor Zhang and Doctor Li.
The conflict between them could very well be the key to solving the case.
The stretcher slowly rolled toward the operating room, and I closed my eyes, waiting for the next cycle to begin.
No matter what, I had to uncover this mystery and put an end to this absurd cycle of death.
Even if it meant experiencing countless repetitions, I was willing to do so.
Because living is truly wonderful.
How I longed to truly live again, to feel the sunlight, breathe fresh air, and embrace those I love.
For this simple yet precious wish, I was willing to pay any price.
The stretcher came to a stop, and the door to the operating room was right in front of me.
I took a deep breath, preparing myself to face death once more.
This time, I would definitely find the truth.
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