Wearing British clothes as a second-generation aristocrat

3. It's just your intestines.

"Alright, now we need to prepare for the blood transfusion. I need to do your blood tests," Dugan said. "Do you have a microscope and slides here?"

"Of course. This is a hospital," Dr. Stein said.

"Then I need to get a blood test done on each of you," Dugan said. "I need a syringe."

"Each of us?" Dr. Stein asked in surprise.

"Yes, I need to know whose blood type Ken shares. If the wrong blood type is entered, this guy will be killed immediately," Dugan said seriously.

"Unheard of," Dr. Stein shook his head.

"This...this is written in an ancient Egyptian medical book. The author's name is Laze, and the book is called 'On Human Blood.' Haven't you heard of it?" Dugan started making things up on the spot.

"Unfortunately, no." Dr. Stein was quite honest. He asked Trish to get a few syringes and had Dugan draw blood from everyone.

Ken's servant, Tom, was a loyal follower. He stepped forward and said, "No need to draw other people's blood, just use mine."

Dugan glanced at him and said, "It's no use. The blood type must match for the transfusion, otherwise Ken will die immediately."

"Mr. Connaught, do you mean there are several different types of human blood?" The old doctor Stein was hearing this theory for the first time.

“That’s right,” Dugan said. “Right now, we need to focus on saving lives. We can discuss this topic privately later when we have more time.”

Dr. Stein agreed, and the two continued their work. Dugan instructed Dr. Stein to boil all the surgical instruments in hot water and then soak them in strong liquor for later use, also for the purpose of sterilization.

Then, Dugan started taking blood tests for everyone, including himself.

After a round of testing, only nurse Tracy's blood type matched Ken's.

So Ken's servant, Tom, immediately took out all the money he had, saying that as long as Tracy was willing to donate blood to save the Rivers' young master, all the money would be hers. Even if the money wasn't enough right now, as long as young master Ken was saved, the Rivers family would definitely reward Tracy handsomely.

Dugan also stated that drawing a small amount of blood would not harm Trish's health, and that the blood would regenerate on its own in a few days.

So, Tracy rolled up her sleeves and said, "Okay."

Dugan drew 400cc of blood from Trish for later use, then took a scalpel from the liquor, preparing to perform surgery on Ken.

"God, it hurts so much!" Ken yelled as soon as the knife cut open his belly, probably because he had drunk the opium too early and the effects had worn off.

"Hold him down!" Dugan shouted quickly, ordering several burly men around to come and hold Ken's hands and feet down. Then, Yuran Cuixi poured a glass of opium into Ken's mouth, and then Dr. Stein decided to give Ken opium to relieve the pain. As for whether it would be addictive, they didn't care anymore.

The fat man, whose hands and feet were held down, struggled desperately, but with the combined efforts of Aldo, Tom, and Dr. Stein, Dugan managed to cut open Ken's fat belly. He then reached into the belly, which was protected by a thick layer of fat, and after feeling around for a long time, he still couldn't find the lead bullet. In the end, he managed to pull out the fat man's stinky intestines!

"My God!" Ken's servant Tom's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

The nurse named Tracy screamed and fainted.

Ken's blurred vision suddenly locked onto the slippery organ in Dugan's hand. Overwhelmed by the excruciating pain, his mind went blank, and he managed to speak, his voice filled with confusion and terror: "What... what is this thing?"

Dugan smirked, revealing a slightly wicked grin, and replied nonchalantly, "It's nothing, just your guts."

Those five short words were like the last straw.

Ken's pupils constricted sharply as he imagined the horrific scene of his internal organs being exposed. His brain overloaded instantly, his eyes rolled back, and he passed out again.

"That's good, finally it's quiet." Dugan then finally found the bullet by following the path through the intestines, pointing to a hole in the intestines and saying, "The bullet pierced through the intestines. If it hadn't been removed in time, I would have been dead."

"His intestines are all out, isn't he dead?" Ken's servant Tom said, his face pale.

"Bullet found." With a soft thud, a deformed lead bullet was tossed onto the table.

Dugan then said, "Needle, thread."

Immediately, Dugan shouted, "Dr. Stein, give him a blood transfusion! Aldo, get me hemostats!"

Dr. Stein immediately handed over hemostats so that Dugan could use them to clamp several bleeding points that were spurting blood. Aldo, on the other hand, clumsily used a syringe to inject the blood from the glass bottle into the veins in Ken's arm. Although it took five attempts to succeed, at least the blood was transfused into Ken's body.

Dr. Stein then quickly handed the threaded sutures to Dugan.

Although Dugan was a surgical intern, he had never performed surgery before. He lacked surgical skills, possessing only theoretical knowledge and having attended anatomy classes. As a result, it took several incisions to open Cheken's thick belly, and the stitches were uneven and crooked. Even after the wound healed, it would leave an extremely ugly scar.

"God, I'm still alive?" Just as Dugan, Aldo, Tom, and Dr. Stein were about to work together to carry Ken to the ward, the fat man actually woke up.

Then, he hissed, "It hurts, it hurts so much!"

Dugan scoffed, "Can't even handle this little bit of pain? Are all the Rivers this afraid of pain?"

Ken grinned and cursed, "Fuck, Dugan, you shot that damn bullet in my stomach. You almost killed me."

Old man Stein still seemed unconvinced that the fat man had really escaped unscathed. He took out a thermometer and checked Ken's temperature, and sure enough, Ken didn't have a fever.

The old man scratched his sparse white hair, his face full of disbelief. "It's a miracle! They cut open his stomach, gave him a blood transfusion, and even removed his intestines..."

"What? Intestines?" Stein's words reminded Ken of the scene where Dugan was holding his intestines in one hand, grinning wickedly at him.

"..."

"Young master, why are you dizzy again?" the servant Tom cried out in alarm.

"It's alright, he won't die," Dugan said. "Give him... give him some opium, some opium liquor, let him sleep well, and he shouldn't be in so much pain tomorrow."

With such frequent and high-dose use of opium for pain relief, will he become a heavy smoker after recovery?

Forget it, I can't worry about that now. After all, I just saved his life!

Besides, the duel was initiated by the opponent, and the bullet was his own doing, while I have already put aside past grievances and used medical skills ahead of his time to snatch his life back from the clutches of death.

As for the aftereffects?

Compared to a life, it's nothing at all.