I Was Once a Legend

"The box is gone." He whispered.

"What box?"

"The space box containing the meme." The place where the space box was originally placed was replaced by a box of the same color. It looked very similar. The clown didn't find it in the first time. "Chang Hui wanted to take the meme."

"Ah, but it's a pity that they are one step late." Cui Zuojing reassured Wen Yan, "Dong Zheng told me that the meme is called Murphy, and now in his mind, he has succeeded in taking me It’s contagious, and the people in your circus are probably not spared."

"Fortunately, I took a step ahead." The clown took the replaced box in his hand. "This idea is probably proposed by "Worm Mystery."

Cui Zuojing: "Does it want the remaining power of Murphy?"

The clown was a little surprised: "Yes, how do you know this? When those things happened in those years, haven't you come to the pure earth?"

"Luo Zhen told me." Cui Zuojing didn't conceal. He picked up vodka and puffed his head again. He almost choked and shed tears. "If only the box is taken away, it's fine."

The clown nodded, and neither of them spoke for a while. At this moment, the clown realized that Cui Zuojing had really grown a lot after the seal was lifted. It was no longer the sixteen-year-old child who only reached his chest.

After a while, Cui Zuojing rubbed his face and took two long steps, apparently a little bit above.

The emotion in his chest was so strong that he couldn't suppress it, and he couldn't bear it. He now especially wanted to see that person.

I don't want to bear it anymore.

"Where is Dong Zheng?"

Victor followed the gnomes, the audience had all left, the staff were busy packing up the venue, and brought the animal actors back to the background, everyone was doing their own things in an orderly manner.

Victor got in under the drape, the magician was changing inside, he took off the top hat, one arm was dismantled and placed on the leg, and the other was brushed with rosin oil and smeared on it.The box next to him was opened, and there were many puppet limbs. After removing the white gloves, the spherical joints of his wrists were exposed.

Victor stopped and touched the magician's trousers with his claws. When the other party paid attention to him, he said, "Sir, can I help my friend get in touch with the curse of the Busby chair?"

"That lady." The magician remembered. He bent down to touch Victor's head and smiled: "Sorry, I forgot, I will go immediately."

Behind the curtain, another identical magician came out. The thin silk thread was tied at the joint. The vague reflection could only be seen under the white light. He asked Victor where he was now and went to find her. .

The last time I came to the circus, Victor was still in human form. The magician did not recognize the white cat that had appeared, and Victor did not say much. After confirming that the winch would be fine, he continued to follow the dwarf.

He was taken to a room with a different style from the rest of the circus.

Bright but non-glare white lights, spotless equipment and the smell of disinfection water in the air, Victor knew that it was an operating room as soon as he entered the door, and there was no place to familiarize him more than this. He was admitted to the Department of Clinical Medicine of the Moscow State Setonov Medical College and has been on the operating table for 25 years since then.

The bandaged doctor stood there and whispered, "I haven't seen you for a long time."

"I haven't seen you for a long time." Victor walked over step by step, and a man was lying on the operating table. He was blown up and half of his body below his waist was still alive in pain.

The shadowless lamp shone on his gray face and loose pupils, and the medical instruments showed various vital signs. Victor just glanced at it and knew that unless the gods descended, this person would be difficult to save with the power of modern medicine .

He never said he would never, before completely proclaiming his death, as a doctor Victor would not give up any hope of life.

"He wants to live, even if it becomes a monster."

The doctor said, opening the side of the freezer, the liquid nitrogen vaporized out of white mist, and the pale blue mask covered most of the doctor's face, only to see the two eyes exposed, ruthlessly.

Inside the freezer is a headless body of a white horse.

"He would be a good actor." The doctor murmured.

"Do you want to transplant this thing to him?" Victor stared at the wound that had been cleaned up. The disconnected aorta was very precisely connected to the extracorporeal catheter to form a blood circulation circuit. Important internal organs also stayed safely in the abdominal cavity. Beat gently under the heart.

There is no life support device, no blood transfusion to stabilize blood pressure, no strict disinfection, and even let him enter a cat. All self-confidence and serious irregular operations are derived from the ability of the doctor, named [Do not die].

On his operating table, there will never be a patient who has died because of his injuries, even if he wants to die.

Many deformity show actors were transformed into that look. They were injured for various reasons. They agreed to the doctor to save their lives, but they had no choice but to live.

"Do you feel guilty like this?" Victor whispered. "He woke up to see himself like that, and would rather not ask you at all."

"I'm not like you, I just find it very interesting." The doctor moved the horse's body to the operating table, marking where each blood vessel and nerve should correspond. "So I never call myself a doctor."

He paused and looked at Victor, with an unstoppable excitement in his voice: "It's as happy as the creator to see new creatures born in his hands."

Victor didn't speak. He stared quietly at the doctor. The doctor clearly saw disapproval and severe condemnation in his amber eyes.

The doctor smiled. He held the surgical forceps, crouched down and touched Victor's head. He tilted his head and asked: "So what do you want to do? Watching him die? What is the difference between killing him? He Then you don’t want to die. What are your qualifications to deprive him of his qualifications for living?"

With a sneer, he stood up and pointed to the position on the operating table prepared specifically for Victor.

"Come help."

Victor listened to the sound of surgical forceps colliding with each other, and finally jumped up.

Skin, flesh, bones, blood vessels, nerves, internal organs.

Everything reappeared before Victor's eyes. The last time he saw these on the operating table was ten years ago.

He is just a cat now and can't really help anything. He can only stand on the side and remind doctors who have never received systematic medical studies that blood vessels cannot be sutured like this.

Of course, the doctor will not listen and has the ability to stay in his body, even if he sews the rough stitches like clothes, he will not break.

Victor could see his frontal horn jump suddenly, if his students had already been kicked out of the classroom.

The man on the operating table has fallen into anesthetized coma, the white horse's body is gradually stitched with him, and Victor recalls the many operations he has performed. The patient lies on his operating table, under the shadowless lamp, there is life , Someone died.

It would be great if he had such ability, he wouldn’t be able to put down the equipment so many times and walk out of the operating room, shaking his head in pain to the relatives who were anxiously waiting outside.

Victor didn't watch the doctor's operation. He stared at the patient's pale face and torn body. The nasal cavity was full of blood, and the long-lost problem appeared again.

What is life?

When sitting for the first time in the bright classroom of Sedonov College, the white-haired old professor asked such questions to the young students under the stage.

Earlier, Victor thought of this problem for the first time when he and his father cut wood in the pine forest of Siberia and saw frozen birds in the snow.

What is life?

He thought about it for forty years, listening to the first cry of his daughter when he was born outside the delivery room, and sent away his father who died unexpectedly. After seeing countless joys and sorrows, he finally ushered in his own death.

There has been no answer.

Then he came to this post-death world, whether as a precision surgeon or a pilgrim with medical department capabilities, Victor became the most popular type in the pure white world without suspense. In the face of the olive branch stretched out by countless teams, he chose a small team that was not at all conspicuous.

There is a less strict German, a weak math teacher, and a cowardly child who is only 16 years old.

He put a beak mask in District Ⅸ and became a plague doctor. With his ability and excellent professional level, he rescued many injured pilgrims in the box. It was the strongest backing of the afternoon tea party team.

He was stopped at midnight on the corridor of the palace and turned into a cat, and Cui Zuojing left the pure white realm and became a cat raised by a teenager who never grew up.

The cat's body gradually grew old, and the old body made him difficult to move and confused, until the teenager held him back to the pure white world again.

He is alive again.

They met new friends and found their best friends in the past. They have always had dreams and desires in their hearts.He was smashed by Pan Yizhang at the doll's house and broke his first seal when he was about to die. He really gained the power of the "body".

But Victor never understood what life was.

It is said that only by walking on the edge of life and death can you realize the true meaning of life. He has walked back and forth so many times, dying, surviving, dying, and surviving again.

I still don't understand.

Victor gradually realized that he might never find the answer, because not all questions had exact answers.

The eyes were gradually blurred, leaving only the closed eyes of the man. In the flare before the anesthesia, there were still flashing inside, still the desire to desperately want to live.

A faint purple glow emerged from the white cat.

Thoughts suddenly returned to the summer of eighteen.

"Victor Vladimir Morozov." The old professor on the stage stared at the young man standing up and down, looking at him with a panic violet eye pupil, and asked, "What do you think life is like?" ?"

The classmates who didn't know each other stared at the unlucky egg that was lit up on the first day of school, with a good-looking expression, quietly waiting for his answer.

"I don't know, teacher." After a few voices, Victor heard his young voice penetrate through thirty-eight years later. Unlike the standard Moscow accent of the professor, his pronunciation seemed to be the deepest in Siberia. The roar of wind and snow in the pine forest, and the cry of the frozen stiff bird who was buried in the snow by him.

"I can't answer such esoteric questions yet...but I don't think it can be defined."