Since leaving Ronald Reagan Medical Center, Belus has not returned to work at the hospital.

On the one hand, because of the tremor of his hand, he could not guarantee the smooth operation (although he already thought that he had controlled the problem well), but the people around him did not approve of it; On the other hand, the development of robotic surgery in recent years has covered almost most areas of surgery, and doctors walk into the operating room cleanly, control the robot next to the virtual display, and then walk out of the operating room cleanly.

Thanks to deep learning, the cost of AI-powered robotic doctors has gradually dropped from four million dollars to one million dollars, far less than the Zeus and Leonardo da Vinci robots that had great names a few decades ago.

Technically, that type of robot is more like a delicate arm, with a 540-degree rotation range and an ultra-long endurance compared to a normal human hand, avoiding the inevitable subtle tremors of the human hand. Compared with the robots used in hospitals today, such robots are only hand optimization, and the operation still depends on the wisdom and judgment of doctors.

But everything is changing, and these tentacles are stretching farther and farther, from the industrial arm to the hospital, into the human body, under the epidermis and peritoneum, and through the blood vessels and nerves as if no one was there.

These things have become pervasive. Berus thought to himself.

The living room, the bedroom, there are things that have come in, what is their purpose? Sitting on the couch where he usually sits, Berus began to think about the purpose of these things. He believed that this should be the first time something had entered his private space (if humans ever had a real private space). The corners of Belus's mouth twitched at the thought of this, as if he was laughing.

And then he quickly realized that something reasonable was going to happen, and even was happening. He stood up and walked to the window, the curtains were drawn tightly, and behind the beige dark coarse cloth was a thick blackout curtain, and the curtain track was ten centimeters higher than the window, so that almost no light could leak into the room.

Belus noticed that an afternoon sun was leaking from the left side of the curtain, shining on the staircase handrail opposite.

There's something out there too.

I am being watched.

This thought made him uneasy, what was going on, if it was his own research, could it be that just collecting some cases had already attracted the attention of those things? What else has been overlooked?

He took out the data device he carried with him, and it was already an essential habit to transfer all the data to the data device before going out every day.

Belus should have felt a little relieved at the thought of not leaving any data at home today, but his back was still oozing sweat, deeper than the panic when he entered the door, and the real fear, accompanied by increased amygdala activity, released neurotransmitters throughout the brain and quickly surged throughout the body.

If these things come in and find nothing, it means first and foremost that they are looking for something, and they think that these things are in their hands. If they get nothing, will they take another approach?

Soon they should think of the data machine, unless someone completely trusts the work of the brain, no one can live without the data machine in this day and age, but the brain is often not trusted.

The suspicion that surveillance was lurking outside the window made it easy for Belus to draw a second line of reasoning.

They will come again.

Is it possible that they just suspect and then find out that there is nothing, and the situation is not as they thought they would have given up?

No way. He shook his head in denial of his own innocence.

The reasoning is finally locked onto the data device in hand, and what they want is in it.

In addition to the case-related reports collected by themselves, these things can be found as long as they are carefully investigated, what makes them care so much? Mr. Berlous speculated that the cases he collected had secrets that were so important to some people that they needed to check some people beforehand.

What exactly is this secret? Is it really as he suspected?

No, such suspicions are too scary, there are too many more reasonable and simple reasons to cause those accidents, and easily falling into suspicion is tantamount to drilling into a dead end.

Belus was lying on the couch, feeling a little numb in the muscles all over his body, as if he had not fully awakened after anesthesia.

He lay down for a moment, his body feeling tired, perhaps a little too nervous, after all, he hadn't noticed any real surveillance.

Everything is still just in his imagination and speculation, but if everything is true, he must act, or he will sit back and wait to be killed.

Thinking of this, Belus focused again, and he read from beginning to end the dozens of medical malpractice he had collected over the years, which at first glance seemed to have no common denominator, most of the cases scattered in different states of the United States, and some in India and Southeast Asia.

Eventually, he saw a case of an anesthesia dispute, a minor operation. Referring to the recent medical treatment, the operation in this dispute case can even be regarded as excessive medical treatment, such a case he has not paid much attention to, anesthesia disputes but did not cause the death of the patient accidents have never attracted much attention, but in a family interview, he saw a familiar name, Foley Eugene Söder.

Eugene, is the name of Foley's mother.

He calls Representative Foley and hopes that he will come over as soon as possible, but he doesn't think about how to reconnect with an old classmate about his past hurts. The pain of losing his mother is something Belus can't receive, and maybe it's a lot like losing his hands, he thought.

After modifying the encryption of the data device, he walked up to the bedroom on the second floor, wanting to sleep for a while, he was tired from experiencing the high-speed operation of his brain, and then he didn't know what was waiting for him, Berus closed his eyes, and many tentacles drilled out of his dim eyes, and finally revealed a pair of red eyes, under the blue light, the pair of flickering eyes were like the compound eyes of flies.

The nightmare lasted until dinner, when a man stood in the doorway with a bloodless face, and Belus felt a chill at the sight of this face.

"Why are you so ugly?"

"Hell yes."

Berus shuddered and walked to the kitchen to pull out two cups.

"Have some drinks first?"

"That sounds like a great idea."

"What's going on, Foley."

"I saw her."

"She?"

"Ephia."

"I can't see you're so nostalgic."

"You don't understand, Belus. The woman disappeared again, this time before my eyes. ”

"You made me think of it, who knows?"

Representative Foley looks up blankly at Berus, who was sitting in the same position as he had been a week ago.

"Who?"

"Leonard."

"I saw him at the stadium gate and then he suddenly disappeared."

"God forbid, you confused me, Leonard is dead, you can't see him, but Ephia is different, she just doesn't say goodbye, this girl doesn't know how to be polite."

"Are you saying she's uneducated?"

"Yes, it's just that she is not educated, but she is still a reader, holding a book all day long, and she is completely uneducated."

"Hey, Foley, this doesn't fit our culture, you shouldn't say that about a girl."

"She's not a girl either, she should have grown up after all these years."

As Forlì finishes his glass, he remembers that it was Belus's endless phone call that caused Ephia to slip away again.