Ultimate Evolution: I Became the Master of the World

The night was pitch black and super gloomy.

The big ol' clock on the square facade of that tall building up north showed 8:50 PM. Rush hour was long over, but the streets were still jam-packed. Every now and then, some fearless electric bike rider would zoom out from a red-light intersection. Right behind them, a bunch of folks who seemed to value time more than their lives would follow suit, not willing to wait even a second.

"These idiots, running red lights like they own the place. No wonder people say Veridiania folks have no manners!"

A middle-aged dude with thick black-framed glasses stood by the crosswalk, watching the electric bikes and bicycles weave past him. He angrily muttered in the local Auroravale language. He glanced up at the pedestrian signal flashing red on the other side of the street, then confidently stepped off the curb, forcing a bus that had the green light to stop. He quickly vanished into the crowd on the other side.

Traffic rules? Those are for vehicles. Pedestrians? They do whatever they want.

Suddenly, an ambulance with flashing red and blue lights, marked "Auroravale General Hospital," slowly made its way through the traffic, siren blaring.

This obvious attempt to cut through the rules ticked off a lot of people waiting around. Especially a middle-aged woman on an electric bike hogging the bus lane in front. She turned her head, spat at the ambulance, snorted, and with a smug sense of pride in blocking a steel beast way bigger than her, ignored the blaring horn behind her.

Inside the ambulance, it was way quieter.

"Just my luck. Covering for ten minutes and I get an emergency."

On the side seat, a young male orderly in a white coat grumbled, arms crossed, slowly chewing a piece of gum that had lost its flavor.

"Chill out! Everyone hits a rough patch sometimes."

Opposite him, another young guy in a white coat with a "Duty Doctor" badge on his chest adjusted his slipping glasses and calmly advised.

Compared to the first guy, he was taller, about 5'9". The big white coat made him look kinda skinny, but his hands were muscular and strong. The neon lights outside the window occasionally reflected in his eyes, adding a touch of shyness to his youthful look.

His name was James Smith. He was twenty-two, a fresh-out-of-med-school intern.

It was already time to clock out. Just as he was about to change and leave, he saw the on-duty doctor and nurse from Ambulance No. 3 heading to the restroom. So, he and the orderly, Michael Johnson, decided to cover for a few minutes. Unexpectedly, they got an emergency call and had no choice but to go.

Willowbrook, up in the northern part of the city, was this sketchy "urban village" and the spot where the patient from the call was at.

Thanks to the driver's decent skills, the ambulance finally squeezed out of the traffic mess, struggled through the narrow village roads crowded with illegal buildings, and slowly pulled up in front of a six-story DIY house.

Before the vehicle even stopped, James had already grabbed the medical kit and bolted out of the car, rushing into the house like a madman, following the address from the call.

In emergency care, speed is everything.

A minute earlier or later can mean life or death for the patient.

The building was about 1,000 square feet but shot up six stories high. The unguarded stairs were super dark, and stepping on the wet cement floor felt grossly sticky and slippery. The light hanging from the ceiling was wrapped in dusty cobwebs, barely glowing under the interest of a swarm of mosquitoes.