?Chapter 932:


    N clutched her stomach and hunched slightly, her voice weak as she feigned difort. “Glenn, I’m not feeling well. I’m afraid I can’t go ahead with the surgery.”


    The excuse was pathetic—and everyone knew it.


    Carlton muttered under his breath, “Sick? Now? How convenient. Dr. Vance, surely you know that Deputy Commander Aston is running out of time. Every second you waste shes his chances.”


    Glenn’s face turned cold. He’d once believed N was a rising star—but now, it was clear: she was nothing but a disappointment. And that wasn’t the worst of it. What truly cut deep was the dy her bluffing caused on Lamont’s treatment.


    If she hadn’t insisted on her own treatment yesterday, Lamont could have been flown to the’s best hospital overnight. A full expert team could have been waiting. He might still have a shot. Now, there was no one left to operate. Lamont’sst chance had vanished.


    Glenn fixed her with a hard stare. “I’ll ask you one more time. Can you do the surgery or not?”


    That $100k chilled N. It crawled under her skin like ice. Still, she summoned the courage to answer. “Glenn, I’m not physically fit to perform surgery right now.”


    That was all Glenn needed to hear. His disappointment was final. Everyone stood there, frozen by the silence, unaware that Elena had quietly slipped out of sight.


    Minutester, someone in a surgical cap and mask stepped into the operating room. She shut the door behind her without a word, scrubbed in, grabbed a scalpel, and got to work.


    By the time anyone realized someone had taken over, the procedure was already underway.


    Carlton’s jaw dropped. “Wait—who is that? Is she really operating on Deputy Commander Aston?”


    Glenn lunged for the observation window. The surgeon was tall, face mostly hidden—only her eyes in view. No way to tell who she was.


    Glenn eximed, “What department is she from? This is insane! Someone stop her!”


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    Glenn moved for the door, but Carlton caught his arm. “Glenn, hold on. Look at her. She knows what she’s doing.”


    Glenn paused. He looked again. Inside, the woman moved with razor-sharp focus. Her hands never trembled. She navigated the delicate nerve clusters with speed and precision, pinpointed the source of the issue, and removed it without faltering. Not a single wasted motion. Every move was deliberate, confident.


    Even with his decades of experience, Glenn doubted he could have done it better. She made it look effortless.


    The room fell silent—shocked into stillness. That level of skill… Only one person alive was known for it. And in that instant, everyone reached the same, impossible conclusion.


    Carlton’s words burst forth, unfiltered and full of disbelief. “Is that really the Healer?”


    Abilities like that didn’t exist outside of legends—and certainly not in anyone else in this space.


    Frozen in ce, Glenn stared through the ss, his knuckles whitening from how tightly he clenched his fists. He wanted to believe the impossible. The precision, the speed—it all matched the stories. But the woman inside looked far too young to be the Healer. His certainty wavered.


    Inside the operating room, Elena worked with a surgeon’s poise, her movements fluid as she excised the damaged tissue and neatly closed the wound without hesitation.


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