Mercenary’s War
Chapter 657 - 657 650 The Healer Heals Themselves

657: Chapter 650: The Healer Heals Themselves 657: Chapter 650: The Healer Heals Themselves Gao Yang was gasping for breath, an instinctive response in a desperate situation, but at the moment he pulled the trigger, Gao Yang could hold his breath until after firing the shot, so his rapid breathing did not affect his shooting accuracy.

Seeing someone trying to pick up an RPG that had fallen to the ground, Gao Yang did not shoot.

The distance was too great, and hitting a moving target was too difficult.

He simply aimed at the Rebel Army soldier trying to pick up the RPG and only took the shot when the soldier had picked up the RPG, rested it on his shoulder, and knelt on one knee to aim.

After the gunshot, although the RPG was picked up, it could not be fired.

After shooting the enemy, Gao Yang immediately resumed gasping for breath and shouted, “Test Tube!

Take care of yourself first.”

Saving comrades was the duty of a medic and also Bruce’s greatest value in the Satan Mercenary Corps.

However, since Bruce was injured himself, Gao Yang wished that he would save his own life first.

If Bruce were to die, then everything would truly be over.

Bruce ignored Gao Yang’s shouting and persisted in cutting open the clothing over Rafael’s wound.

After a quick glance, Bruce loudly said, “Don’t move, I need to stop the bleeding and remove the shrapnel, it’ll be quick.”

Bruce was undoubtedly a top-tier military medic.

Even though he was lying on the dusty dry ground, he dared to perform emergency surgery, and he did so without anesthesia, directly using a knife.

A mercenary’s life was cheap.

Having a medic to provide aid was good enough, and expecting to be evacuated to the rear for medical treatment like the armies of major nations was far-fetched, let alone expecting a helicopter evacuation for the wounded.

That was simply unthinkable.

No matter how good a mercenary group was, it was still just a group of mercenaries, slightly better than the utterly expendable free mercenaries, but similarly without logistics or support, dependent solely on their own in any situation.

Most mercenary groups didn’t even have a qualified medic; a gunshot wound meant immediate death, or a long, painful demise later, or if the wound was minor or by sheer luck, surviving long enough to make it to a hospital.

If one encountered a medic capable of performing surgery on the battlefield, one should consider oneself extremely lucky to get an opportunity to save one’s life in such a way.

Bruce was definitely a good medic, one of the best.

His skills had been tested and proven.

Therefore, having Bruce around meant the members of the Satan Mercenaries had a much better chance of surviving.

After all, on the battlefield, it wasn’t the bullet that killed instantly that was most common; it was the lack of timely and effective medical treatment that led to death.

The problem was, Bruce being a good medic was problematic when he himself was injured.

It was very problematic.

Rafael’s injury was more serious than Eileen’s, but still manageable.

Bruce made an incision on the left side of his back, removed a shrapnel piece the size of a rice grain, performed hemostasis, and then, without time to stitch the wound, sealed it with a field emergency adhesive.

Although Rafael would inevitably have to undergo surgery again later, his wound would definitely not worsen, meaning his life was no longer in danger.

After attending to Rafael, Bruce then sat down on the ground, cut open his own pants, and cursed, “F**k, F**k!

I’ve injured a major blood vessel in my leg, the lateral circumflex femoral artery, a secondary artery.

I need to perform hemostasis on myself or I will die.

If my procedure is successful, you need to get me a blood transfusion and vascular surgery within four hours, or even if I don’t die, my leg will be useless!”

As Bruce yelled, he prepared himself for the surgery.

Rafael lay next to Bruce and shouted, “What do we need to do!”

Bruce clenched his teeth and said, “You can’t help, go do your thing, no, no!

Watch me.

If I pass out, wake me up!”

Bruce’s leg was gushing blood, but fortunately, he hadn’t damaged a major artery, only a smaller one.

Although Bruce had applied a tourniquet, he still needed to operate on the wounded artery to stop the bleeding soon.

Bruce could only rely on himself now.

Bruce was harsh on others, and just as harsh on himself.

Bruce stabbed his thigh with a knife, and with a yank outwards, he bellowed, “F**k, shit, it hurts like hell!

These damn rebels, f**k you!”

Lucica’s face was covered in tears, and finally, she couldn’t help but turn back to look at Bruce.

However, it was just a brief glance before she immediately turned away and continued firing at the approaching Rebel Army.

“These damn rebels, I hate them!

Let them go to Hell, all of them to Hell, ah, missed a vessel, f**k, I’m not going to die.”

Bruce’s face turned green with pain.

To divert his attention from the pain, he cursed loudly.

To stop the bleeding, he had to make a larger cut on his leg, which meant more small vessels needed attention.

Moreover, he couldn’t use anesthetics unless he was sure it wouldn’t affect his thinking and actions.

Bruce used small hemostats to clamp the vessels.

Only when the bleeding had significantly reduced did he grab a weak painkiller spray and frantically sprayed it on the wound, followed by another spray to prevent infection.

After treating himself, Bruce collapsed onto the ground, gasping for air, and said weakly, “Guys, I can’t move anymore, God help us, hopefully, no one else gets injured.”

“Buddy, you could pass out now, it would feel better.”

Bruce glanced at Rafael, and with a bitter smile, said, “Buddy, I can’t pass out, it’s not the time yet, and buddy, take this, if you see I can’t hold on, inject two of these into me, one dose doesn’t do much for me.”

Receiving two injections from Bruce’s trembling hands, Rafael shouted after a pause, “What is this, morphine?

No, this isn’t morphine, what is it?”

Bruce hesitated and then whispered softly, “Caffeine.”

In urgent situations, everyone naturally yells, but Gao Yang and his team members were using automatic radios, which were suited for small-scale teams without specific settings.

This meant that every word spoken could be heard by everyone else, so there was no need to yell.

Moreover, Gao Yang heard every word spoken by Bruce and Rafael very clearly.

Now, Gao Yang finally understood why Glolov’s military doctor friend was poisoned and why Bruce had developed a drug addiction.

For military doctors, when they must remain alert under extreme conditions, stimulants seem to be the only choice.

Not just military doctors, the use of stimulants is also quite common in Special Forces.

Of course, mercenaries also commonly use them, but the Satan Mercenary Corps never used such substances.

Just then, Glolov spoke in a deep voice, “Test Tube, you’ve done your duty.

We won’t have anyone else injured now.

Relax, and pass out.”

(To be continued.

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