< Chapter 10 

Chapter 10 “Beep–” 

The flatline of the heart monitor sounded. 

A nurse’s voice, “Dr. Hanson, the transplant was successful.” 

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, except Bastian Hanson. 

His hand trembled; a wave of immense fear washed over him. 

He instinctively looked at the figure on the operating table. 

My face was serene, peaceful, lifeless. 

He had taken my life. 

Menu 

He was in a daze until someone nudged him.“Dr. Hanson, shouldn’t you be attending to the patient?” 

He snapped back to reality. 

Yes, Quilla Lewis was saved. 

Wasn’t this what he always wanted? 

Six hours later, Bastian Hanson emerged from the operating room. 

My father and mother were anxiously waiting outside, along with William and Lily, all concerned about Quilla Lewis. 

“The surgery was a success,” he announced. 

My parents wept with joy; William and Lily jumped with excitement. 

No one inquired about me. 

Quilla Lewis was wheeled out. 

My mother followed the nurses to the ward; my father stayed to thank Bastian Hanson. Tears in his eyes, he clasped Bastian Hanson’s hand. 

“Bastian, you’re a good son–in–law. If you hadn’t found the blood source and performed the surgery, Quilla wouldn’t have made it.” 

He paused, sighing.“If only we’d let Quilla marry you back then… she actually…” He trailed off. 

“Never mind.” 

“Can you tell me who donated the blood? I want to thank the family.” 

The operating room doors opened. 

The nurses wheeled me out, covered by a sheet. 

A gust of wind lifted a corner, revealing a hand with a birthmark. 

My father froze. 

“That’s…” 

He recognized the birthmark. 

It was mine. 

He instinctively moved towards me. 

Bastian Hanson blocked him. 

“Hospital regulations prohibit disclosing information. Please don’t ask.” 

08:19 

40.0% 

< Chapter 10 

My father didn’t suspect anything. 

Perhaps the birthmark was just a coincidence. 

In the corridor, Bastian Hanson took the sheet–covered body to the morgue. 

In the cold room, he lifted the sheet, seeing my pale face. 

There were several gruesome wounds on my chest, wrists, and neck. 

Even though I wasn’t truly dead, seeing me lying there so cold, Bastian Hanson’s heart ached, as if I were truly 

gone. 

A delayed wave of pain washed over him. 

He held my hand, comforting himself. 

“It’s okay, you’ll come back. You love me; you’ll come back. 

Even if you don’t want to, the system won’t let you leave me before the mission is complete.” 

He leaned his forehead against mine, whispering, “When you come back, we’ll have a good life, okay?” 

In the past, I would have gently stroked his face and said, “Okay.” 

But now, only silence answered him. 

Based on his experience, I’d return within three days. 

I’d inhabit a new body, a new identity. 

Bastian Hanson was confident; no matter what I became, as long as I reappeared, he would recognize me.