"Bruce, Bruce! Calm down, quickly! Calm down!" Seeing the heart rate monitor on Bruce's wrist beeping incessantly, Betty panicked. To her, Bruce losing his temper would be far more catastrophic than Jennifer's current injuries.
If he lost control, Philadelphia would face a massive disaster, and they would attract the attention of the military—something she desperately wanted to avoid. She began doing her best to soothe Bruce Banner's emotions.
"Jennifer can still be saved! We need to get her to the hospital immediately. Bruce, control yourself! Saving her is what matters most right now!"
As Bruce Banner listened to Betty's voice, he began to breathe deeply. The icy air filled his lungs, gradually cooling the blood that boiled with rage. The monster within him began to recede, and his heart rate started to steady.
Finally, the green light in his eyes faded.
"You're right, Betty. Call a taxi. We need to get to the hospital quickly."
Bruce and Betty rushed Jennifer, who was injured, to the hospital. Fortunately, it wasn't far from their location. They soon delivered Jennifer to the emergency room.
Watching the emergency room light glow, Bruce sat down uneasily. His heart rate fluctuated between rapid and slow, a sign of his inner turmoil. Though he had effective methods for controlling his emotions, they proved limited in this situation.
Thankfully, Betty stayed by his side. Her constant reassurance kept his heart rate from crossing the critical threshold. This continued until the light above the operating room finally went out.
"Doctor, how is she?" Bruce rushed forward as the surgeon emerged from the operating room, his voice filled with anxiety.
"Are you her family?"
"No, we're just her friends," Betty interjected before Bruce could answer. As fugitives, registering their identities would alert the military to their location, which would be disastrous for everyone involved.
"Her condition is critical. We've removed the bullet, but she's lost too much blood, and we don't have her blood type. Transferring it from another hospital will take time, and I don't think she'll last that long. If you know her family, you should contact them immediately."
The doctor's words were practically a death sentence, and Bruce momentarily froze, his mind going blank.
"Stay calm, Bruce. Doctor, what's my friend's blood type?" Betty asked quickly, worried Bruce might lose control. She needed to understand the core of the problem to prevent him from spiraling.
"That lady's blood type is RH-negative, a very rare blood type. I'm sorry, but our blood bank doesn't have that type."
The doctor shook his head and walked away. His response gave Betty a moment to breathe. She immediately searched her mind and found a solution.
"Bruce, calm down. Jennifer can still be saved. You won't save her if you keep acting like this."
"How can I save her, Betty? What do I need to do?"
"Don't forget, Bruce, your blood type is also RH-negative. Your blood can save her." Betty grabbed Bruce's arm and shouted. For her, this was a last resort, but it was far better than letting Bruce become that monster.
"Betty? I can't do this!" Bruce rejected the idea outright. He knew his own condition all too well. Transfusing his blood into his sister could lead to unpredictable and severe consequences. His own fate was already tragic enough; he didn't want to burden his sister with it.
"You and your companion have already found a solution, haven't you? You can save her with your blood now, and once you're in New York, you can use the method you discovered to reverse what happened to her."
"You don't understand. What happened to me was an accident. Jennifer might not be as lucky." Bruce still hesitated. But Betty's next words forced him to make a decision.
"Bruce, take a gamble. Maybe a miracle will happen. Are you just going to watch her die like this?"
Having made up his mind, Bruce Banner finally resolved to act. He found the doctor who was already packing his things and said,
"Doctor, use my blood! My blood type is the same as the patient's. I can donate blood to her!"
The doctor glanced at him and murmured,
"Very well, sir. We'll arrange blood tests immediately. If your blood type matches, we'll start treatment right away."
"There's no time, Doctor. I'm worried my friend won't last that long," Betty interrupted, explaining urgently. "I'm certain my boyfriend's blood type matches hers. Please help her quickly. We really don't have any time left."
The doctor, perhaps sensing their unspoken distress, let his innate desire to heal and save lives take precedence. Without considering anything else, he shot Bruce a meaningful glance and said,
"Alright, I'll start preparing for the blood transfusion immediately."
While tense rescue efforts continued in Philadelphia, Zhou Yi was already enjoying a rather comfortable life in New York.
He had just attended parent-teacher conferences for his two daughters. Both young girls were, he had to admit, exceptionally well-behaved. Compared to parents who were constantly being lectured by teachers about their children's troublemaking, his experience was a world apart.
His daughters were intelligent, diligent, had excellent social skills, and were universally liked. Their teachers couldn't stop praising them to Zhou Yi, which, in a way, fulfilled a father's pride.
Amidst their praise, the teachers subtly raised a concern. The potential negative impact of a single-parent household on the children seemed to be the family's only flaw in their eyes. They earnestly advised Zhou Yi to find a partner and form a complete family while he was still young and the children were small. But only Zhou Yi knew how difficult this problem would be to solve.
Getting married was easy. The women willing to marry him could fill several streets, but the women he was willing to marry were few and far between. So he could only laugh it off, glancing at his watch as he tried to fend off the teachers, who were practically bursting with gossip.
Fortunately, the parent-teacher conference couldn't last forever. When the legal workday ended, he finally gained his freedom and took his two little princesses home.
Though it had been a troublesome day, his mood remained relatively good. So he took a detour and brought the children to the pastry shop they had visited last time.
The two adorable children never minded having another delicious treat, and the shop owner didn't mind a pair of charming little girls gracing his establishment. Meanwhile, Zhou Yi took advantage of the moment to strike up a conversation with the idle owner.
"Speaking of which, Boss, your shop's decor has changed quite a bit. I don't remember all these new items from my last visit!" he asked casually, but the owner's response piqued his interest.
"It's all thanks to those young people who've been hanging around lately. The neighborhood's gotten much safer. Even the protection racketeers don't dare show their faces anymore. You know, without those guys causing trouble, I figured it was time to expand the place and attract more customers!"
"Those young people... which young people are you referring to?" Zhou Yi's public image was certainly admirable, but he wasn't yet a household name. The owner, at least, didn't recognize him as the big boss of the Corona Group. He simply saw him as an ordinary, curious customer and answered without much thought.
"It's those Mutants the police department specially recruited. To be honest, I didn't like them at first. I wasn't very welcoming when they came here. But I have to admit, they do good work. Especially that beautiful young woman with the streak of blonde hair—she helped me out a lot. So now, I really think they're a good bunch of young people."
The owner was French, and generally, due to Magneto, French people tend to be hostile toward Mutants. But this owner was an exception. His story only piqued Zhou Yi's interest further.
"Could you tell me about it, if you don't mind?" Zhou Yi opened his cigarette case and offered the owner a cigarette—a practical and effective way to build rapport.
The owner didn't refuse, especially with children present. He didn't light the cigarette but tucked it behind his ear instead. Then, he began to recount his experience.
"You probably know this shop's location isn't the best. The bar next door has a lot of drug addicts, and they sometimes do the most insane things you can imagine."
"It was raining heavily that night, and I was about to close early. Suddenly, a drug addict burst in, pointing a gun at me and demanding a robbery. Who knows what he was thinking, trying to rob a pastry shop? And with the bad weather, business had been so slow that I barely had any cash on hand."
"Seeing that addict, I knew it was bad. I figured I was finished—this guy must be desperate. Meeting someone like that is just my luck. And he really was crazy—he actually fired a shot at me. He missed, but it scared me half to death."
As the owner spoke, his face showed lingering terror, clearly still shaken by the memory. But then his expression shifted, becoming animated with excitement.
"It was right then that the lovely young lady rushed in. I didn't even see how she did it, but she subdued that addict. She even twisted his gun into a pretzel. That's when the lady told me she'd originally just wanted to buy some French bread from my shop, but stumbled upon this instead."
"After that, she and her police partner started patrolling this area regularly. Thanks to them, I haven't seen any gangsters or addicts for a long time. Even the bar next door isn't as rowdy anymore. Honestly, if I were a few decades younger, I'd really want to pursue that young lady."
Hearing this, Zhou Yi found it both amusing and touching. *Truly French,* he thought, *to still have such a romantic heart at this age.* But from the man's words, Zhou Yi gained a clear understanding of Little Rogue and her team's efforts.
It was clear they were doing a good job. And that meant his own efforts were worthwhile. Mutants could indeed coexist peacefully with humans, as long as there was the will and the perseverance.
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