The Day Before Everything Changes
Jack Dawkins did not start the day wanting a fight.
But Rainsford Sneed practically ran toward him with his polished boots, smug grin, and overconfident strut—the kind of man who was born smug and got worse with age.
"Dawkins!" Sneed shouted across the ward. "I challenge you!"
Jack sighed, rubbing his temples. "To what? Seeing who can talk the longest without saying anything useful?"
The nurses snorted quietly.
Sneed's face flushed red. "A surgical competition. Amputation. Clean, efficient, no hesitation. Tomorrow morning."
Jack raised an eyebrow.
"You want to race me on how fast we can remove a limb?"
"Yes," Sneed snapped, straightening his coat pompously. "The loser admits the other is the superior surgeon."
Jack blinked.
"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."
Sneed puffed his chest. "Scared?"
Jack gave him a lazy smirk.
"I've cut roast chickens harder than you."
Gasps echoed down the hall.
Sneed sputtered. "Fine! Then you accept!"
Jack shrugged, hands in pockets. "Sure. I accept. Try not to faint halfway through."
Sneed stormed off, cursing in a very un-doctorlike manner.
Hetty leaned in behind Jack.
"That man would lose a competition against a child with a butter knife."
Jack snorted. "I know. But someone has to put him in his place."
The Hospital That Smelled Like Death
By noon, Jack regretted breathing through his nose.
The hospital reeked.
Not a normal hospital scent—no.
This was festering wounds, unwashed sheets, spilled alcohol, and cheap cigars.
Hetty whispered, "The stench is worse today."
Jack muttered, "It's because of the Chief Surgeon."
Right on cue, a booming drunken laugh echoed down the corridor.
Professor Calloway—Chief Surgeon, respected academic, renowned doctor—stumbled through the door, reeking of whiskey.
He was already telling one of his favorite lies:
"Back in my day— hic —I performed surgeries in eight languages!"
Jack rolled his eyes so hard it hurt.
The man was a menace:
Too drunk to read charts
Too proud to admit mistakes
Always eager to take over operations he had no business doing
Always blaming the junior surgeons when patients died under his hands
And backed by the social hierarchy that protected nobles and professors no matter what they did
The system pinged softly.
[WARNING]
The Chief Surgeon negatively impacts survival rate.
Risk of unnecessary patient death: 47%
Reputation of Jack Dawkins: Unaffected
Reputation of The Doctor: Rising
Jack inhaled through his mouth.
"I can't work like this."
Hetty whispered, "Are you… thinking of leaving?"
Jack stared at the drunk professor, then the dirty floors, then the terrified patients.
"No," Jack said quietly.
"I'm thinking of replacing him."
Hetty froze.
"Jack—"
But he walked away, the decision already burning quietly behind his eyes.
The Town Notices the Doctor
Later that evening, the mayor and Chief Surgeon Calloway drank themselves half-blind in the tavern.
But even through their haze, they heard the whispers:
"Have you heard of him?"
"The surgeon who mends bones like clay."
"He vanished a whole gang's injuries without a trace."
"They say he uses techniques from the Orient—magic, almost."
"Some call him the Bone-Seer."
Calloway slammed his mug down.
"This—hic—doctor doesn't exist! Just rubbish stories!"
The mayor frowned.
"But why aren't criminals coming to the hospital anymore? Why are our records EMPTY?"
Calloway burped loudly.
"Maybe… maybe they all died! Hah!"
A noblewoman seated nearby whispered:
"No. They're being treated somewhere else… by someone far more skilled."
Calloway froze.
The mayor swallowed hard.
"It might be true, you know. A hidden surgeon. A master. Someone… beyond us."
Calloway laughed nervously.
"Ridiculous."
But deep down, both men felt something icy settle in their chests.
A new surgeon had emerged.
And he was not on their side.
Nightfall — First Illegal Patient (Hetty & Jack Together)
That night, the clinic lantern flickered warm light across metal and shadows.
Hetty—now with dyed brown hair—organized tools as Jack instructed her.
Everything was quiet—
Until the hidden bell rang once.
Hetty froze.
"A visitor already?"
Jack calmly pulled on his mask and tied his hair back.
"Follow the rules. Stand behind me. Speak only when asked."
Hetty straightened.
"Yes, Doctor."
The door opened.
A man stumbled inside, holding his stomach.
Blood seeped through his shirt.
Not just any man—
A pirate.
A wanted criminal with a bounty on his head.
He gasped, "D-Doctor… please… please—"
Jack's voice was cold.
"You know the rules."
The pirate dropped a pouch of gold on the table.
Jack nodded once.
"Good. Hetty, prep the tools."
Hetty moved quickly, her hands steady.
She didn't flinch when Jack cut through the blood-soaked shirt.
Didn't shake when she positioned the lantern.
Didn't panic when Jack's scalpel slipped inside the wound.
And then—
Jack's breathing slowed.
She felt the room shift.
She saw his posture change.
His eyes sharpen.
Transparent World Activated
Veins, organs, arteries—
Jack saw everything.
Hetty gasped softly.
His movements blurred.
Precise.
Deadly.
Perfect.
She watched the legend of the Doctor unfold before her eyes—
not as rumor, but as absolute reality.
Within minutes, the pirate lay unconscious but alive.
Jack stitched the wound shut, sat back, and spoke quietly:
"Send him out the back once he wakes. No one can trace him here."
Hetty whispered:
"You're incredible…"
Jack cleaned the tools, never looking up.
"I'm necessary."
The Canon Begins Tomorrow
As they closed the clinic for the night, the system chimed.
[TIMELINE UPDATE]
Canon Event: The Artful Dodger begins in 24 hours.
Your actions have already altered key relationships.
Prepare accordingly.
Jack exhaled, leaning against the metal table.
"Tomorrow the story begins…" he murmured.
Hetty looked at him, confused.
"What story?"
Jack only smirked beneath the mask.
"You'll see."
Tomorrow, the world would meet Jack Dawkins again—
But they would also meet The Doctor.
And neither the hospital, nor the criminals, nor the nobles had any idea what was coming.