The screams in the operating room continued.
Under the shadowless lamp, the dirty scalpel rises and falls, piercing into the fuzzy and glued flesh and blood, severing a tendon.
The torn face was drooping aside, and the ticking blood dripped down the operating table, adding a new layer of blood stain again.
Halfway through the operation, Dr. Fox dropped the surgical scissors and was too lazy to take off his rubber gloves, so he was soaked in blood and lit a cigarette again.
“Your face is shaved.”
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