Two Days Before the Story Begins
Two days before the canon of The Artful Dodger was meant to unfold, Jack opened his eyes.
The white ceiling of the Port Victory Hospital greeted him—plain, slightly cracked, and bathed in morning sunlight.
He blinked slowly.
Three layers of memory overlapped in his mind:
Jack Dawkins, the pickpocket-turned apprentice surgeon
His past life, the 25-year-old modern surgeon
His current life, the one rewritten by the system
The collision of these memories had finally settled, but the weight of them sat heavily in his skull—like three worlds trying to balance on one spine.
He exhaled.
"I remember everything now…"
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of soft breathing beside him.
Jack turned his head.
Hetty Baggett lay curled on the blanket, fast asleep.
Her hair was messy.
Her clothes were nowhere in sight.
Jack was half-covered, warm from shared body heat.
He didn't react with shock.
He remembered this.
Not from last night—
But from Jack Dawkins' memories.
Hetty wasn't love.
She wasn't romance.
There were no confessions or promises.
It was simply interest, a human instinct, a mutual comfort between two people who worked long hours, saw death too often, and needed warmth more than words.
Jack whispered to himself:
"This wasn't love. It was never meant to be."
He slid out of the bed carefully, giving her privacy.
With the system, his senses had grown too sharp, too aware.
Even simple intimacy felt distant now, overshadowed by the Transparent World and the path he was walking.
He put on his shirt, tied back his hair, and washed his face in the basin nearby.
His New Reality
Two days before everything began, Jack needed something more dangerous than combat:
Routine.
He needed to understand how the hospital worked.
He needed to know who the senior surgeons were.
Who the nurses were.
Who respected him.
Who looked down on him.
Who might expose him one day.
And who might someday help him.
The system chimed softly as he tightened his coat around himself.
[DAILY OBJECTIVE: Begin Integration]
Study hospital layout
Meet all key staff
Learn current cases
Maintain identity as "Jack Dawkins, surgeon"
Reward: +1 Medical Technique Point
Jack smirked.
"Time to get to work."
The Hospital in Motion
Morning in the Port Victory Hospital was chaos.
Patients screamed.
Doctors argued.
Nurses ran with bandages and buckets.
The smell of antiseptic mixed with blood and sweat.
Jack walked through the hall and immediately attracted stares.
Some curious.
Some annoyed.
Some resentful.
Jack Dawkins, in the canon timeline, was known as:
Talented
Cocky
Stubborn
Brilliant with his hands
Terrible with authority
He carried himself with the confidence of a man who had seen things others couldn't imagine.
Now, combined with a modern surgeon's experience and the Transparent World, his presence had only grown sharper.
Characters He Met
1. Nurse Hetty Baggett
She found him in the hallway later, hair tied up, face flushed from embarrassment but pretending to be casual.
"You could've woken me, you know," she muttered.
Jack shrugged.
"We both needed the sleep."
She rolled her eyes.
"You're a menace, Dawkins."
"Always."
Their chemistry was unchanged.
No romance.
Just tension, respect, and shared exhaustion.
2. Dr. Thorne — Senior Surgeon
A stiff man with a beard like a hedge and an ego twice as thick.
He glared at Jack.
"You're late."
Jack kept walking.
"I'm early."
"You—why, you arrogant—"
Jack ignored him.
Thorne hated Jack for having talent he never understood.
He would be a problem.
3. Dr. Monroe — The only surgeon Jack respected
Monroe approached with a calm nod.
"Rough night?"
Jack raised his brows.
"You have no idea."
Monroe smiled knowingly.
"Good. We need your hands. We're drowning in patients."
Jack simply said, "Show me."
4. Sarah Wilkes — The nurse who doesn't trust him
She followed him with her eyes narrowed.
"I know trouble when I see it," she muttered.
Jack gave her a sideways glance.
"You should get your eyes checked."
She scowled.
Jack walked away.
Learning the System
The hospital was chaotic.
In the next two hours, Jack:
Treated three broken bones
Assisted in one amputation
Stopped a sailor from bleeding out
Cleaned a rusty infection
Diagnosed a fever the others misidentified
Performed a stitch pattern no one in the colony had ever seen
Whispers spread through the staff:
"How does he move like that…?"
"He sees things before they happen."
"His hands don't tremble."
"That technique—where did he learn it?"
Jack didn't answer any questions.
He worked silently, efficiently.
The Transparent World flickered behind his vision, showing muscles, veins, organs—
It made him a god in the operating room.
The System Speaks
During a brief break, the system chimed again.
[STATUS UPDATE]
Your dual identity remains stable.
Hospital Staff Suspicion Level: 3%
You have met all main characters in the hospital.
Canon begins in 48 hours.
Jack exhaled slowly.
"Two days until everything starts…"
He tied his coat tighter.
He needed to be ready.
Nightfall — A Quiet Moment
Back in his hospital room, Jack sat on the edge of the bed.
Hetty entered quietly, placing a lantern on the table.
"No games tonight," she said. "We're both on call early."
Jack nodded.
"Understood."
She paused in the doorway.
"Dawkins… are you alright? You look different lately."
Jack's expression didn't change.
"I'm just remembering who I am."
Hetty frowned, confused—and left.
Jack looked at the moon outside the window.
"Two days," he whispered.
"Two days until canon begins.
Two days until everything changes."
He cracked his knuckles.
"And the Doctor will be ready."
And Hetty Baggett's Suspicion (Hetty's POV)
Something was different about Jack.
Hetty could feel it the moment he walked into the hospital that morning.
He moved differently—calmer, sharper, more focused than she had ever seen him.
Jack Dawkins had always been talented but chaotic.
A troublemaker with surgeon's hands.
A genius wrapped in arrogance.
But today…
His eyes were too steady.
His steps too quiet.
His voice too cold.
Like he had lived an entire lifetime overnight.
Hetty watched him stitch a sailor's torn arm in seconds.
Watched him diagnose fever without touching the patient.
Watched him navigate the hallways as if he could see through walls.
This was not the Jack she knew.
Something had changed him.
Something big.
And Hetty Baggett was not a fool.
"Where do you keep disappearing to?" she whispered to herself, watching him from behind a curtain.
Jack checked the clock.
He tightened his coat.
And he slipped out the back door of the hospital.
So Hetty followed.
Following Jack
She kept her distance.
Jack never looked over his shoulder.
He didn't run or hide.
He walked calmly toward the poorer side of Port Victory.
Hetty's heartbeat quickened.
What are you doing, Jack…?
He entered an alleyway she had never noticed before.
A dead end.
Hetty peeked from behind a corner—
—just in time to see Jack lift a floor grate and descend underground.
Her breath caught.
"What in the—"
She waited five minutes.
Ten.
Twenty.
Her curiosity burned her alive.
Finally, she crept forward and climbed down the ladder.
What she found below stole her breath.
The Clinic of Shadows
A room filled with:
Surgical tools
Lanterns
Clean tables
Strange equipment she'd never seen
Cases of medicine
Shelves of herbs and powders
Books in languages she couldn't read
And a metal table so polished it looked foreign
This was a hospital.
A secret hospital.
And standing in the center of it—
Jack.
But he looked nothing like Jack Dawkins.
His hair was jet black.
His face partially hidden behind a dark mask.
His clothes were different—simple, efficient, prepared for blood.
Hetty gasped.
"You… you're—"
Jack didn't even flinch.
He turned, lifted his mask slightly, and spoke with a calmness that chilled her spine:
"You found me. Good."
Hetty's legs nearly gave out.
The entire city whispered about a legend.
The criminals feared him.
The nobles whispered about him.
The soldiers wanted to find him.
The Doctor.
Cold, precise, merciless.
A ghost in black hair and a mask.
And he was standing right in front of her.
"Don't scream," he said softly.
Hetty's voice cracked.
"I—I wasn't going to."
Jack walked toward her, unhurried.
"I knew you were following me. I let you."
Her eyes widened.
"You… let me?"
He nodded.
"I need help. Someone I can trust. And you're the only one that fits."
Hetty felt her heart slam against her ribs.
"Help? Doing what?"
Jack gestured to the clinic.
"Running this place. Cleaning. Preparing tools. Managing patients. Making sure the clinic stays hidden."
Hetty swallowed hard.
"And why me?"
Jack stared directly into her eyes.
"Because I trust you more than the entire hospital staff combined."
Her breath caught.
Ridiculous as it sounded… she believed him.
Then he added:
"And because I will pay you £10 a week. £20 if you do well."
Hetty nearly fainted.
"TWENTY pounds!? That's more than surgeons make in two months!"
Jack shrugged.
"I have the money. I need someone competent."
Hetty stammered.
"I—I accept! Yes! I'll do it, Jack—Doctor—whatever name you want!"
Jack nodded once.
"Good. Then we start tonight."
Changing Her Identity
Jack handed her a small bottle.
"What's this?" Hetty asked.
"Hair dye. Blonde or brown. Use it before you come here. And wear your hospital uniform."
Hetty blinked.
"You want me to hide my identity?"
"Unless you want to be hunted," Jack said casually.
"By nobles, criminals, corrupt soldiers… take your pick."
She gulped and nodded quickly.
Jack's voice softened—not warm, but steady.
"You're the only one I'll allow here, Hetty. Don't betray me."
She felt her cheeks warm despite her fear.
"I won't. I promise."
The Hospital — Jack's First Major Surgery
That afternoon, chaos erupted.
A man was brought in with a shattered ribcage, punctured lung, and internal bleeding.
Dr. Thorne panicked.
Nurses shouted.
Blood flooded the hall.
Dr. Monroe yelled, "He won't last ten minutes! We need someone—anyone—skilled enough to operate!"
Jack stepped forward silently.
"I'll take him."
The staff froze.
Thorne sputtered, "That's not your case—!"
But Monroe pushed aside everyone else.
"Let Dawkins try. He's the only one who can."
Inside the operating room, Jack put on gloves.
Hetty watched through the window, her heart pounding.
Something was different.
His breathing slowed.
His eyes sharpened.
And suddenly—everything changed.
Sun Breathing: First Form — Solar Heat Haze
The lanterns flickered.
The air shimmered.
Jack's hands moved faster than any doctor Hetty had ever seen.
Transparent World Activated
Jack saw:
The pulsing artery beneath torn muscle
The collapsed lung
The shifting fracture pressing into tissue
The exact point where blood leaked
He cut precisely where no one else would dare cut.
He stitched what others believed impossible.
He sealed the wound before a single drop of blood went astray.
He worked like a man who knew the future.
Hetty covered her mouth.
This isn't surgery…
This is something else.
Something supernatural.
When Jack stepped back, the patient was alive—stable—saved.
The room was silent.
Monroe whispered, "How… in God's name did you do that?"
Jack calmly washed the blood off his hands.
"Practice."
Hetty's Decision
Later that night, Hetty sneaked into the underground clinic with her hair dyed brown.
Jack was already there, mask on, lantern lit, equipment ready.
He looked at her.
"You came."
Hetty nodded firmly.
"I made a promise, didn't I?"
Jack's eyes softened—slightly, barely noticeable.
"Good. Then let's begin."
And from that night forward, Hetty Baggett was no longer just the head nurse of the hospital.
She became the first ally of the Doctor.
His assistant.
His confidant.
His shadow in the shadows.
And she swore to keep his identity buried deeper than any grave.