Medical Center.
The hallway.
With all the commotion, it didn't take long for a crowd of nosy onlookers to gather.
Especially after George let out that ambiguous, booming yell—it had everyone's eyes glinting with juicy speculation.
"What's going on?"
"George caught syphilis from Alex!"
"What? You're kidding, right?"
"Syphilis spreads mostly through, uh, you-know-what—and the unprotected kind, no less. If George got it from Alex, doesn't that mean…"
"Uh-huh, you get it now, right? What kind of protection would they even need? Of course it's the no-holds-barred, unprotected you-know-what! Otherwise, how do you explain why, even with all the 'true love' talk in the gay scene, the chaos and STD rates are way higher than with straight couples?"
"Heh, Durex must hate them. If everyone followed their lead, condom companies would go bankrupt!"
"Hahaha!"
"We all knew George was gay, but Alex? Never saw that coming!"
"What's so surprising? A playboy like Alex? He's always been the type to swing both ways—guys, girls, whatever. If he wanted to try it, you think George would say no?"
"Yeah, makes sense. Think about it—Alex was originally punished with a week of latrine duty, but now it's stretched to two weeks, three weeks, maybe even permanent. Doesn't that strike you as weird?"
"What are you getting at? He's being punished because he keeps pissing off Dr. Burke."
"That's the obvious take—or what Alex wants you to think. But look at this mess now. Doesn't the truth just hit you in the face?"
"Wait, are you saying Alex actually likes latrine duty, so he's been deliberately ticking off Dr. Burke to drag out the punishment?"
"Pfft!"
"Don't laugh—okay, fine, laugh, but not in my face!"
"Sorry, I can't help it!"
"…"
"Look, maybe the first punishment was an accident. But after that? Unless he's an idiot or genuinely into it, why else would a lowly intern keep provoking Dr. Burke over and over again? That takes some serious guts!"
"Right? He's not dumb—he couldn't be a doctor if he was. So what's he after? He knows messing with Dr. Burke will get him punished, yet he keeps doing it…"
"Exactly! Peel back the surface, look at all the evidence, rule out the other options, and no matter how ridiculous it sounds, there's only one truth left: He loves latrine duty. He went from straight, to bi, and now he's diving headfirst into full-on gay territory with no turning back. Or maybe this is the real Alex all along. Like a lot of closet cases, he couldn't face it at first, but now he's free—finally brave enough to be his true self."
"Whoa, that… actually tracks."
"Impressive! With logic like that, you could totally do diagnostic work. Maybe you're the next Dr. House!"
"Heh, no big deal. I just tossed out some casual reasoning. It's not even hard—the evidence is so obvious it's practically blinding. I couldn't ignore it if I tried!"
"…"
George's one loud outburst had been twisted into "the only truth" by a bunch of self-proclaimed logic geniuses. Alex's supposed emotional journey and his tangled love-hate saga with George were being unraveled bit by bit in the gossip mill.
Back in the East, a sage taught the art of divination to interpret the heavens and earth. Over here? The crowd was using it to decode "freedom and love." Talk about a waste of potential.
"Asshole!"
Alex was already fuming, and the not-so-subtle whispers from the onlookers weren't helping. Every word rang clear as day in his ears, and he couldn't take it anymore. Clenching his fists, he charged forward.
"Back off, Alex!" Adam called out, raising a hand to stop him.
"Go to hell!"
Seeing Adam block his path, Alex swung a fist straight at his face. Compared to George, who'd landed a punch on him earlier, it was this face he despised more.
He loathed it with every fiber of his being.
"Ahh!"
"Dr. Duncan, watch out!"
The moment Alex switched targets, a chorus of gasps erupted from the female onlookers. Their perfectly synced screams threw the guys in the crowd off their gossip game for a second.
Do you have to be that coordinated? What are you, a cheerleading squad?
"Hit him hard!"
"Yeah, right in the face!"
"He's still smirking at them—unbelievable!"
"Still playing cool? Pound him harder!"
"Mess him up so bad even a plastic surgeon can't fix it—let's see if they still swoon then!"
The male onlookers exchanged glances, united by a shared goal. In that instant, their silent eye contact spoke volumes—pure, unfiltered resentment toward Adam.
Adam totally got where their grudge came from. Nine years since he'd crossed into this world, he was used to it by now.
Yep!
In that split second, with a fist flying toward him, Adam not only had the presence of mind to flash a dazzling smile at his female supporters, but he also had the bandwidth to clock the mental meltdown of his male colleagues.
Why? Simple.
Alex's punch was "too slow."
Back when his IQ shot past 180 and he hit super-genius territory, Adam had a fleeting moment where the world seemed to slow down in his eyes. It passed quickly, and he brushed it off. But now? He knew it wasn't an illusion.
His perception had genuinely leveled up.
When he focused—whether by choice or reflex—his brain kicked into overdrive. His thoughts sped up, and paired with his already above-average reflexes, it created a kind of bullet-time effect.
It wasn't that Alex's fist was slow. Adam's mind was just that fast.
Think of Rajesh's scavenger hunt in The Big Bang Theory. The puzzles stumped most geniuses for a bit, but super-genius Sheldon? He'd glance at them and spit out the answer instantly. Why? His brain processed everything at warp speed.
Adam's mental hardware was on that same tier now. And unlike Sheldon—who'd open a door, take a deep breath, and call it "exercise"—Adam's muscle speed was no slouch either.
Sure, with his current abilities, he could track a bullet's path, but his human-level speed still couldn't dodge it outright—unless he saw it coming and reacted before it was fired.
Alex's fist, though? That wasn't a high-velocity bullet. It was just a regular punch, and to Adam—who could semi-dodge a bullet—it was laughably slow.
"I'm just trying to break up the fight," Adam said with a grin, sidestepping Alex's swing by a hair's breadth. "Why're you coming after the peacemaker?"
"Because it's you I want to hit!"
Alex threw another punch, but it missed again. Staring at Adam's smirking face right in front of him, his rage boiled over. Ignoring a bewildered George, he went full berserk, swinging wildly at Adam.
He didn't even graze his shirt.
"What are you two doing?"
The hospital's big boss finally showed up—Dr. Burke, drawn by the chaos.
"Stop it!"
Alex was too far gone to listen.
"Dr. Burke said stop!"
Adam dodged another swing, then grabbed Alex from behind, pinning him firmly against the wall.
"What's going on here?" Dr. Burke demanded, his face dark with anger.
Adam explained the situation, backed up by a flurry of female colleagues chiming in with details. It didn't take long for Dr. Burke to piece it all together.
"You again!"
Dr. Burke glared at Alex, still pinned to the wall. He couldn't believe this scandal—potentially a black mark on surgery, or even the whole hospital—might've been sparked by Alex of all people.
He'd suggested to the surgical chief before that they push Alex out, but the chief shot it down. Now? He couldn't wait to see what the chief—humiliated by this mess—would say about it.
With that thought, Dr. Burke gave Alex a cold, thin smile.