Max's speed was astonishing, and his precision was downright terrifying.
Even so, the hand-suturing just now had only been a small test.
It did not directly prove that he could save Hale's father, let alone serve as evidence that he could handle a hell-level brain surgery.
But if one couldn't even handle the small things, then the big things were out of the question.
Foundation was what determined a person's limits.
Only with a solid enough foundation did one have the right to touch things that were truly complex and dangerous.
A routine procedure that normally took thirty to forty-five minutes, Max had completed it in just three.
The disparity was so vast that Javier felt as if he were living inside a fantasy novel rather than a modern hospital.
If Max was this young and already at such a level, then how monstrous must the teacher behind him be?
Javier suddenly recalled his own past, many years ago.
When he had first entered the medical field, he too had been a passionate youth, indifferent to money, unconcerned with fame.
Back then, the joy of saving a life and honing his skills every day had been enough.
But as time passed, he hit a bottleneck.
No matter how hard he tried, he could no longer improve.
His youthful ideals were gradually worn away, until all that remained was cold practicality.
Until now.
The moment he witnessed Max perform something bordering on a miracle, the flame that had long been extinguished in Javier's heart suddenly reignited.
If he missed this opportunity, he knew he would regret it for the rest of his life.
"Impossible."
Max's voice was calm.
"I'm very busy. I don't have time to teach you anything."
This wasn't entirely an excuse. Max still had to travel around flirting with women, something no less important than life and death.
Teaching medical skills truly wasn't in his plans.
Hearing this, Javier wasn't discouraged at all. Instead, he lowered his posture even further.
"Then please allow me to serve as your subordinate," Javier said, his voice nearly trembling.
"I don't ask that you teach me anything. Just let me work for you, that's enough."
Of course, that wasn't the whole truth.
Javier had lived long enough to understand how relationships worked. As long as he stayed close for long enough, feelings would naturally develop.
When that time came, even if Max didn't want to, he would still teach him a thing or two.
Hands that had never once trembled in the operating room were now shaking uncontrollably. Javier's gaze was firm, carrying the resolve of someone gambling his entire life.
Max looked at him for a few seconds.
He had his own considerations. Sooner or later, he would need someone to run errands, he couldn't handle everything himself forever.
Besides, Javier had repeatedly spoken up for him in front of Hale earlier, even though Max still didn't fully understand why.
Goodwill like that was worth accepting.
"Alright, get up," Max said, reaching out to help him up. "What's your name?"
Treating subordinates well was never a mistake.
Javier stood up, his face full of honor.
"My name is Javier Castillo Fernández. But you can also call me White Coat."
"Ahem."
Hale coughed lightly, trying to draw attention.
Even though he was the highest-status person present, he didn't dare show any dissatisfaction.
In front of people who held his father's life in their hands, status meant nothing.
Hale didn't fully understand what was special about the technique just now, but Javier's reaction said everything.
This man was known for being arrogant, respecting only the strong and looking down on the weak.
Yet now, he was being humble to this extent.
There was only one possible explanation.
Max truly had the ability to save his father.
After officially becoming Max's underling, Javier seemed to no longer care about his own success rate at all.
He turned to Max for instructions, completely ignoring Hale.
"If you wish, master, I can directly refuse him."
Hale was so angry he wanted to grind his teeth, but he didn't dare say a word.
Max, on the other hand, felt a chill down his spine from that form of address.
"Don't call me 'master,'" Max said immediately. "That sounds disgusting. I don't like men calling me that."
After correcting the newly acquired underling's title, Max turned to Hale and smiled.
"Well?"
Just two words, without context.
Hale understood perfectly.
this was the moment he had to beg. Here, he was the one who needed help.
Without hesitation, Hale bowed deeply.
"Please save my father's life," his voice was low and solemn. "From this day forward, as long as you call for me, even if it means descending into the eighteen layers of hell, I will not hesitate. The Hale family will forever owe you this debt."
"Alright," Max nodded. "Take me there."
After a series of cumbersome procedures that Javier bypassed using his authority, they finally stood before the operating room.
Just as Max was about to enter, Hale grabbed his shoulder, his voice unable to hide his anxiety.
"What's the success rate?"
Max turned back, a confident smile on his face, as if he were facing a game he had already secured victory in.
"Of course, ninety-nine percent."
Javier, standing to the side, gave a faint laugh and couldn't resist mocking Hale.
"To even dare doubt someone of the young master's, ah, I mean, the young lord's level. Truly, old age really does bring confusion."
The operating room doors closed.
Outside, only Hale remained, standing alone, quietly waiting amid intertwined anxiety and hope.