Special Forces: At the beginning, An Ran pulled him to get his certificate.

Chapter 1449 World Record-Breaking Surgical Speed

"Wipe your sweat, you can stitch up the wound now."

Chen Jun's calm voice rang out in the sterile operating room, carrying a settled and steady quality, yet it was like a pebble thrown into still water, jolting Director Mu, who was beside him, back to reality. This seasoned expert had been completely absorbed, his gaze following Chen Jun's precise, millimeter-level movements as if observing a performance that surpassed the limits of textbooks, only now being brought back to his senses. His Adam's apple bobbed slightly, and he subconsciously replied, "Okay..."

In the ensuing process, Chen Jun, a doctor who had already reached the level of a master, once again put on a performance art demonstration for the few witnesses in the operating room. His fingers were as steady as a precise mechanical arm, and the needle holder and forceps seemed to have come alive between his fingers.

The needle pierces, exits, pulls the thread, ties a knot… every movement is concise to the extreme, yet as fluid as flowing water, without the slightest hesitation or pause. The silver suture traces an imperceptible arc under the operating light, landing precisely in the most appropriate position. The wound is meticulously and tightly closed at a speed visible to the naked eye, leaving stitches so evenly spaced as if measured with a ruler.

When the last knot was cut, the surgery officially ended. Li Yiming, standing to the side, pressed the stop button on the timer with trembling fingers. He looked down at the numbers displayed on the screen, checking them several times before announcing in a dry voice, "Ten...ten minutes and one second."

Ten minutes and one second.

The moment that time was announced, the lingering air in the operating room, thick with intense focus, seemed to be instantly pierced by a block of ice, sending a shiver down everyone's spine. Was this a world record-breaking time? No, it was more like a time that defied all conventional medical knowledge.

The complexity and risks of a major surgery to remove late-stage pancreatic lesions were well-known to everyone present. How incredibly familiar must the surgeon be with the lesion's three-dimensional structure? How meticulously must they plan each step of the surgical procedure? How confident must they be in their control of the operation to compress the time to such an unbelievable ten minutes?

At this moment, Chen Jun seemed oblivious to the frozen, shocked atmosphere around him. He closed his eyes slightly, once again immersing his mind in the mysterious scanning perception. The invisible fluctuations carefully examined his father-in-law's post-operative body, and the feedback showed that all vital signs were stable, and the organs were rapidly adapting to the new state without any abnormal fluctuations. Only then did Chen Jun slowly exhale the breath he had been holding in his chest. Under the scalpel was not only a lesion, but also the life of his father, Anran, and the deepest concern in his wife's heart.

He dared not think about the blow An Ran would have to suffer if something went wrong.

Outside the operating room, the air in the waiting area was equally tense. The hospital director paced back and forth, his hands behind his back, almost wearing marks on the gleaming floor.

Because of Chen Jun's special status as a general, he had no choice but to cooperate with this unprecedented "family member-led surgery," but his anxiety and unease had already piled up like a mountain. He knew nothing about Chen Jun's medical background, only that the other party was a decorated soldier.

Having a soldier operate on a patient with advanced pancreatic cancer? It sounded like a fantasy. When the glaring red light on the operating room door, indicating "operation in progress," suddenly went out after just ten minutes, the hospital director felt a jolt as if struck by lightning, and his heart sank.

"Only...only about ten minutes?" The hospital director's voice was hoarse, and his face turned pale instantly. "The red light went out? Is...it over?" A chief physician accompanying him also gasped, lowering his voice, his tone filled with a sense of foreboding: "It's over...it seems that General Chen's father-in-law...is probably in extremely bad shape. Ten minutes for a major pancreatic surgery, how could that possibly succeed? We shouldn't have agreed in the first place! No matter what your status is, you can't act so recklessly! This is a huge problem. If...if this gets out, it will be a fatal blow to our hospital's reputation..."

"Shut up! Stop talking nonsense!" the hospital director growled in frustration, interrupting his subordinate's disheartening words, but the cold sweat on his forehead betrayed his inner panic. He forced himself to remain calm and led the group quickly toward the operating room door, each step feeling heavy.

Just then, the heavy, airtight door of the operating room slid open silently. First to emerge were Director Mu and Li Yiming, who carefully pushed the mobile hospital bed, one on each side. The hospital director's gaze, like radar, immediately swept over the bed—instead of the expected white sheet covering the patient's entire body, he saw the patient lying there peacefully, an oxygen mask still attached to his mouth and nose, and the monitor displaying regular numbers and waveforms. That one glance made his heart, which had been in his throat, instantly relax.

"Director Mu!" The dean rushed forward, his voice slightly hurried with tension. "What's the situation? Why are you out so quickly? Has the surgery... not started yet? Or..."

Director Mu stopped and shook his head, his face still showing lingering shock and disbelief. He took a deep breath and answered affirmatively, "Dean, the surgery is over. It's all done."

"It's done?!" The dean's voice rose involuntarily, his eyes widening. "Only ten minutes! Director Mu, how... how did you manage to finish it?" He couldn't understand; in his mind, ten minutes might not even be enough to establish a complete surgical pathway.

Director Mu opened his mouth, but before he could organize his thoughts to describe those incredible ten minutes in detail, a figure steadily walked out of the operating room. Chen Jun had already taken off his surgical gown and gloves, wearing only the military green shirt underneath. His expression was calm, and his eyes were clear, showing no sign of fatigue or excitement from having just undergone a high-risk surgery.

The dean immediately turned his questioning gaze to Chen Jun, hesitated for a moment before carefully asking, "General Chen... is the surgery... considered complete? Or was there some unforeseen situation that forced it to be stopped?" He still clung to a sliver of hope that the surgery had been canceled due to unforeseen circumstances, rather than an unacceptable outcome.

Chen Jun stopped and looked at the hospital director, his tone calm yet carrying an undeniable certainty: "The scan results show that his postoperative physiological indicators are stable, with no abnormalities detected. The surgery can be considered a success. Now, please follow the procedures and send my father-in-law for postoperative anti-inflammatory treatment and monitoring." He glanced at his watch, a barely perceptible sense of urgency flashing across his brow. "Time is tight; I still need to prepare his follow-up medications. There's no need to ask about other details for now."

"This..." The dean's many questions were blocked. Looking at Chen Jun's young face, which exuded an invisible pressure, he finally did not dare to ask any further questions. He could only nod repeatedly: "Okay, okay, we'll arrange it right away, right away!" He then signaled Director Mu and others to send the patient to the postoperative intensive care unit immediately, and he quickly followed, intending to dig out some more details from Director Mu on the way.

After settling the patient in the intensive care unit, the hospital director pieced together everything that had happened in those ten minutes from the fragmented, still trembling voices of Director Mu and Li Yiming. His mouth gaped wider and wider, his expression shifting from doubt to astonishment, and then to utter disbelief.

"Ten minutes...removed the late-stage pancreatic lesion, completed all the crucial steps, and succeeded?" The hospital director murmured repeatedly, as if digesting a fantasy. "This...is there ever such a record in the world? A major, complex surgery, in ten minutes?! Even the Guinness World Records wouldn't dare to record something like this!"

Director Mu had calmed down a bit, but the light of admiration in his eyes shone even brighter: "Dean, if subsequent examinations confirm that the surgery was completely successful and without any complications, then this is not just breaking a record, it's creating a miracle in medical history! I witnessed the whole process with my own eyes, and it was simply... a speed and precision that no human could achieve. It's a pity that General Chen's ambitions lie elsewhere; otherwise, with his abilities, he would surely have shone the brightest in the medical field and achieved limitless success."

"Quick! All post-operative examinations, imaging, blood tests, vital signs... get them all done immediately! Right now!" The hospital director was also excited, his voice trembling slightly. If all of this was true, if this incredible "ten-minute surgical miracle" really happened in his hospital and was confirmed, what would that mean? It would be a sensational news story in the medical world, an unparalleled advertisement, and a huge opportunity for the hospital's reputation to soar!

When all the urgently arranged postoperative examination reports piled up in the dean's office like snowflakes, and the data and images were laid out in front of them, the dean and several key experts were once again speechless with shock.

The indicators are normal.

The imaging showed that the lesion area was completely removed and the surrounding tissues were intact.

Vital signs were stable.

There were no signs of any early postoperative complications.

"This...this is unbelievable..." The dean's hand trembled slightly as he held the CT scan, examining it repeatedly under the light, muttering unconsciously, "Late-stage pancreatic cancer...resolved in ten minutes...successfully removed, perfectly blocking the path of spread...this is simply a miracle in the history of human surgery! My God...a miracle..."

This explosive news, like a hurricane, didn't need any deliberate dissemination; it swept through the entire hospital in a very short time. From surgery to internal medicine, from the inpatient ward to the outpatient building, all the medical staff were whispering and discussing it, their faces filled with shock and disbelief.

Surgery for late-stage pancreatic cancer is a notoriously difficult procedure in the medical field, with a low success rate and extremely high risks. The hospital had previously conducted multiple consultations on Anran's father's condition, all concluding that surgery was unlikely to be effective and recommending conservative treatment. Who could have imagined that a case deemed "surgically hopeless" by all the experts would be resolved in just ten minutes by a patient's family member—who was also a soldier—in an almost mythical way?

This was tantamount to a silent yet resounding slap in the face of the entire hospital's "professionalism." Embarrassment, shame, amazement, admiration... a complex mix of emotions permeated the hospital. Social media and internal communication groups were instantly flooded with vague descriptions of the scene, exclamation marks, and words like "unbelievable" and "witnessing history."

While the outside world was abuzz with excitement over this "ten-minute miracle," Chen Jun, the central figure in the event, was already in the hospital's pharmacy laboratory, immersed in planning the next stage of treatment. He knew better than anyone that the successful surgery was only the first step, the winning of the most crucial battle—removing the largest tumor burden and physically blocking the most obvious channels of spread. But to cure cancer, especially late-stage cancer, is far from a one-time solution. The free cancer cells and potential micrometastases that may already be present under the microscope are the more insidious and deadly enemies. They must be completely eliminated before they take root and form new lesions.

Therefore, the surgery was merely the prelude; the true core of the treatment lay in postoperative medication and conditioning. Following conventional experience, Chen Jun only instructed the medical staff to provide his father-in-law with basic postoperative anti-inflammatory and nutritional support, without using any readily available chemotherapy or targeted drugs. What he needed were more targeted, more effective medications that could stimulate the body's own potential while minimizing side effects. And this required him to personally prepare the medication.

So Chen Jun found the dean who was still immersed in excitement and fantasy.

“I need to prepare follow-up medications for my father-in-law’s treatment and would like to borrow the hospital’s pharmacy lab,” Chen Jun said bluntly. “Where is the lab?”

The hospital director, who was fantasizing about how to use this "miracle" to elevate the hospital's reputation to new heights, would never refuse upon hearing this. He nodded hastily, beaming with smiles: "Sure! Absolutely! I'll immediately notify the pharmacy and laboratory to fully cooperate with you! Whatever equipment or raw materials you need, just let me know. Although our hospital's pharmacy laboratory cannot compare with top research institutions, it still has a relatively complete range of basic medicines and equipment."

Chen Jun nodded: "I do need an assistant to help me prepare materials and record the process. I'll write down a list of the necessary medicinal materials and chemical reagents first, and you can check if the hospital has them all." After saying that, he didn't look for paper and pen, but directly picked up a blank prescription sheet from the dean's desk. After a brief pause, he began to write rapidly. His writing speed was extremely fast, with lines of drug names, molecular formulas, required purities, and dosages appearing in a flowing stream. Some were common Chinese medicines, some were raw materials for Western medicines, and some were compounds with obscure names, and the proportions and combinations among them were even more mysterious.

In no time, a prescription sheet was filled with notes. Chen Jun handed it to the dean: "Have your assistant prepare the medicines according to the contents and requirements on this sheet and send them to the lab. I'll wait in the lab."

The dean took the form, glanced at it, and was immediately taken aback by the professional and even somewhat difficult entries. He blurted out instinctively, "General Chen, this... is too professional!" He quickly realized his mistake and tried to make amends, "Okay! No problem, absolutely no problem!" As he spoke, he handed the form to Li Yiming, who was waiting beside him with eyes full of curiosity and admiration, and habitually urged, "What are you all standing there for? Didn't you hear General Chen? Go to the medicine storehouse and the laboratory to prepare! Be quick and accurate!"

Li Yiming, who had been scolded by the dean for what he was standing there for countless times, felt helpless but had no complaints. At this moment, Chen Jun seemed to be surrounded by a mysterious and dazzling halo. He felt honored to be able to run errands for such a legendary figure.

"Yes, Dean! General Chen, I'll get right on it!" Li Yiming took the list as if it were a royal decree, turned around and ran out of the office.

The hospital director personally led the way, taking Chen Jun to the pharmaceutical laboratory located on the top floor of the hospital's research building. Along the way, the director tried to find topics to express his admiration and curiosity, but Chen Jun only gave simple responses, his mind clearly completely absorbed in the upcoming drug preparation.

Upon arriving at the laboratory entrance, the dean used his highest-authority card to unlock the electronic door, then asked the two pharmacists who were working inside to leave temporarily. He then courteously invited Chen Jun into the spacious, clean room filled with various precision instruments and reagent cabinets.

"General Chen, please make yourselves at home. It's absolutely quiet here, and no one will disturb you. If you need anything, just press the internal call button, or have Dr. Li relay the message." As the dean spoke, he considerately and gently closed the heavy laboratory door, leaving behind a completely private space.

The laboratory fell silent, save for the low hum of the ventilation system. Bright shadowless lamps illuminated the central stainless steel workbench, reflecting a cold gleam. Chen Jun walked in slowly, his gaze sweeping over rows of neatly arranged beakers, graduated cylinders, distillation apparatus, analytical balances, centrifuges, spectrometers… and the temperature-controlled refrigerators against the wall, each containing various raw materials stored in their respective categories.

He reached out, his fingertips lightly brushing the edge of a high-precision electronic analytical balance, then opened a reagent cabinet, checked the brand and purity markings of commonly used reagents, and nodded slightly.

"The equipment is fairly reliable, and the basic raw materials are sufficient," he muttered to himself. His experience and intuition as a master-level pharmacist allowed him to quickly assess the laboratory's hardware capabilities. Although it couldn't compare to the configurations of some top-tier institutions he remembered, it was enough to complete the initial drug preparations he envisioned.