The heart is beating [Fifth Personality]

Forget it.

Forget it this time.

If there is another chance... I lie to myself that there is another chance.

Opening my eyes, I resigned to my fate and gave up running away, focusing all my attention on Jack.

Jack's right hand was pressed hard against the mask, and I couldn't see his face, and I couldn't see whether there was a wound on his face.

I was guarded by Jack at the time, so I didn't see where the shot hit him at all.

By the time I realized it, Jack was already like this.

Jack had a mask on his face. If the shot really hit him in the face, the situation should be fine. The mask should be able to block some damage for him more or less.

But if that shot was so accurate in his left eye...

The eye is a very, very fragile organ in the human body. If this shot is placed on a normal person, it is estimated that this eye is probably blind.

But Jack is obviously not an ordinary guy.

I don't know if the power of the flare gun will be greatly reduced on him, and I don't see anything resembling blood flowing from his face or between his fingers.

I stretched out my hand, lifted it up and gently attached it to the back of his right hand, and asked, "Are you okay? Can you let me see? I'm a doctor, so I should be able to help you..."

Although I haven't dealt with gunshot wounds, I don't think it is difficult, and the procedures for dealing with wounds are similar.

It's just that I don't have the medical equipment that I should have.

I held the back of his hand and tried to move it away slowly: "Let me see..."

I took Jack's hand, he was so strong, I could feel that he was actually unwilling to let go.

As a doctor, I can understand this kind of Jack's unwillingness to let go, like the itching of sand in the eye is unbearable.

In theory, I know that I can't rub my eyes with my hands, but I just can't control it myself.

But he still cooperated with me and slowly moved his hand away.

I saw that red powder from the flare gun still remained on the pale mask.

At the position above his cheek below his left eye, the mask of unknown material composition has been charred, leaving deep carbon marks.

It seemed that the shot almost missed his left eye.

But it can be seen from this that the lawyer is indeed a person who does not often touch guns.

The idea of ​​trying to headshot him is of course a good idea, but the premise is that the shot must be accurate.

Fortunately, the lawyer was too flustered at the time, so he drew his gun and shot. Otherwise, no matter if he hit any part of Jack's body at such a close range, Jack would only be injured more seriously.

If Jack hadn't chosen to turn around to protect me at that time, would he have been able to dodge the shot just by relying on the lawyer's marksmanship?

I let out a breath to suppress the thought.

Under the mask, Jack's left eye was tightly closed, and the folds of the eyelids trembled involuntarily, looking very painful.

I carefully took off Jack's mask and asked, "Can you open your eyes yourself? I need to see the situation."

Jack shook his head slightly.

I put the mask aside, put the index finger and middle finger of both hands on Jack's eyelids and eyelids, and gently pressed: "Don't hide—"

However, before he finished speaking, Jack let out a cry of pain and avoided me.

Patients are so disobedient.

Even if it was changed to the brutal and dangerous Jack, it seems that the physiological reaction works on anyone.

"Don't hide, I have to see if your eyes are okay."

I immediately opened Jack's eyelids forcefully.

I know it's not a good feeling, but Jack's eyes have ammunition and smoke powder left in them, which could lead to blindness in severe cases.

He really wanted to avoid my hand, but he held back obediently.

As I expected, the shot did not hit his eyes directly, but too much metal combustibles and red powder were injected into his eyes.

These things entered Jack's eyes with a high temperature the moment they left the muzzle, which is why Jack's current situation is so bad.

"It's okay. I need a lot of saline to wash away the foreign matter inside, and water is fine too. But there's nothing here, not even medical swabs. Can you... cry?"

As I said that, I began to bend down and began to untie the bandages on my legs. This is the cleanest thing I can think of so far, and it can be used to clean up the foreign objects around Jack's eyes.

"Tears are the best irritant for the eyes. Sorry, I'm not a professional ophthalmologist, I don't know if these powders and ammunition left in it will directly cause blindness. This is the best way I know, so You'd better shed more tears."

I took the bandage I tore off my leg and brushed lightly over the lower corner of Jack's eye.

Jack didn't do what I said.

I don't know if he couldn't shed tears or what, and continued to explain: "You try to blink a few more times, in your current situation, it should be easy to shed tears—"

Before I finished speaking, Jack grabbed me and put my hand on his face, and asked in a deep voice, "Why didn't you run away?"

The movement of my hand paused, I pursed my lips and didn't know how to answer.

The author has something to say: there is another chapter at ten o'clock in the evening.