The sharp fizz of sparkling water stung Devon's tongue as he froze mid-sip, the cold bite barely registering as the system's glowing text seared into his vision.

[Quest Alert: Survive the Next 24 Hours]

[Threat Detected: Assassination Attempt on Your Life]

The bold words slammed into him like a sudden gust, and he nearly choked, his throat tightening as he forced the liquid down with a rough swallow that burned all the way. His eyes flicked up from the invisible screen, skipping the rewards entirely, his mind clamped tight on the threat.

An assassination attempt here, in this dazzling, packed hall brimming with people from all over the world? His face stayed smooth as glass, no trace of the panic that could've clawed up, but his pulse hammered hard, a relentless drumbeat in his chest as he scanned the buzzing exhibition hall.

The Brave and Brightest Medicine Practices event thrummed with life. laughter bouncing off the high ceilings, chatter weaving through the clink of glasses, the air alive with excitement. But now, every smile looked like it could hide a sharp edge, every glance a possible signal of danger. Leaning against the bar in his crisp black suit, tailored to fit like a second skin, he stood still as a statue, his eyes darting over the crowd. surgeons in sharp jackets waving hands in big gestures, nurses swapping war stories with quick chuckles, researchers pointing eagerly at glowing hologram displays of beating hearts, spinning bones, and pulsing veins.

Who wanted him dead? Why now, in this glittering sea of brilliance? His mind raced, slicing through faces, movements, anything that felt off, a lingering stare, a too-quick turn, the system's warning looping like a siren only he could hear.

He tried to piece it together, his thoughts spinning like a carousel. The aerothrax cure had put his name in lights outside of the medicine world , sure, but it had also rattled cages. His eyes flicked to a group near a booth showcasing a new laser scalpel, one doc muttering to another, "Devon's cure got all the headlines, but my team's toxin filter was close, politics, that's what it was." Was that resentment enough to turn deadly?

He scanned further, catching a nurse by a neural mapping display, her voice low, "He's young, but he's too full of himself." Devon's jaw tightened, his fingers gripping the cool glass a bit harder. The hall's energy felt different now, the laughter sharper, the glances heavier, like the air itself was holding its breath.

His thoughts snapped like a dry branch when two couples stepped up beside him, their sudden presence yanking him back to the moment. Dr Julian Navarro and Dr Amara Patel, a power couple in their early thirties, were the kind of names that echoed loud in surgical circles, known for their seamless teamwork in high-stakes operations and their charm that could light up any room.

Julian was tall, his warm brown skin glowing soft under the chandelier's golden light, a neatly trimmed beard framing a bright, easy grin that made him seem like the guy you'd trust with your life. His charcoal suit fit like it was stitched just for him, a silver pin shaped like a tiny scalpel glinting on his lapel, his dark eyes sparkling with that quiet confidence of someone who'd saved countless lives under crushing pressure.

Amara matched his vibe, her sleek black hair pulled into a low bun, her emerald-green dress hugging her athletic frame, gold hoop earrings catching the light as she tilted her head with a warm, disarming smile. Her sharp cheekbones and steady gaze gave her a calm intensity, like she could read a room or a patient's chart in a single glance, but her warmth made you want to spill your secrets.

Behind them stood Dr Leo Tanaka and Dr Sofia Mendes, another duo that turned heads wherever they went in the medical world. Leo was lean, with a boyish mop of black hair that fell just over his wire-rimmed glasses, his navy blazer casual but sharp, a playful bounce in his quick nods that made him seem younger than his early thirties, like he was always half a second from cracking a joke.

Sofia, with her olive skin and wavy chestnut hair spilling loose over her shoulders, wore a cream-colored pantsuit that screamed understated power, her dark eyes sharp and watchful, like she could spot a lie or a flaw in a surgical plan from across the room.

Together, the four of them carried that effortless aura of people who knew they were at the top but played it cool, their presence pulling eyes from nearby clusters.

"Dr Devon, it's a real pleasure to finally meet you," Julian said, extending a hand, his voice smooth and friendly, cutting through the hall's lively hum like a warm note. "Julian Navarro, and this is my wife, Amara Patel. We've been following your work for years, and what happened with aerothrax, you turned a disaster into a masterclass."

Amara nodded, her smile polite but genuine, her eyes locking on his with a steady focus. "Absolutely, Devon. That outbreak response was something else. We were just talking about it last week at our hospital, how you pulled that off under all that heat. It's the kind of clutch performance we all aim for."

Devon shook their hands, his grip firm but his mind racing like a storm, sizing them up quick. Was this just a friendly meet, or was it tied to the system's warning? The alert still burned in his head, and now here were two of the biggest names in surgery, all smiles and praise, standing right by his side.

He kept his face cool as ice, eyes flicking over them Julian's relaxed stance, hands loose by his sides, Amara's calm gaze, steady but not probing. Nothing screamed danger, but the system's words made him question every move, every word. "Thanks for the kind words," he said, voice even, giving nothing away. "Just did what the situation needed. You two aren't exactly sitting on your hands, heard about your dual-lead transplant technique. Pulling that off so clean together is a big deal."

Julian chuckled, waving a hand like it was no big thing, his grin wide and easy. "We get by, you know? But come on, your record? Rising Star award at nine, Innovator tag at sixteen? That's the kind of stuff we're all whispering about over coffee. You're raising the bar high for the rest of us."

Leo stepped up, adjusting his glasses with a quick, boyish grin, his energy lighter, almost eager, like he was excited just to be in the conversation. "Leo Tanaka, and this is Sofia Mendes. Got to say, Devon, your early public health work still gets tossed around in our group chats. That Distinguished Service Medal at twelve? That's unreal, man."

Sofia nodded, her smile careful but warm, her eyes sharp like she was reading him down to his bones. "It's impressive, no question. We've been diving into your emergency protocol papers lately—l, smart, practical stuff that actually works in the field. We'd love to hear more about how you approach those high-pressure calls."

Devon's eyes tightened just a fraction, scanning them, Leo's excited lean, like he was ready to jump into a brainstorm, Sofia's cool poise, her gaze steady but not pushy. Were they just being friendly, or was this part of something bigger?

"Appreciate that," he said, keeping it short, his tone polite but clipped, not giving an inch. "You all are holding your own too."

Leo laughed, shrugging, his glasses glinting under the lights. "Just trying to keep up with folks like you. Hey, we're throwing a little get-together at our place this weekend, nothing fancy, just some colleagues swapping ideas over drinks. Would love for you to swing by, maybe dig into some of those protocols you've got cooking."

Sofia slid a sleek card across, their names embossed in gold, her voice smooth as silk. "Yeah, Devon, no pressure at all, but it'd be great to have you there. We're always looking to connect with people pushing the field forward like you are. Could be a fun night."

Devon took the card, his expression flat as stone, the system's warning screaming loud in his head. A friendly invite, or a setup? He wasn't about to roll the dice. "Thanks, but I'm slammed with the exhibit," he said, his tone polite but hard, shutting the door fast with no room for argument. "Got a lot to juggle here."

Julian raised his hands, grin still easy, like he didn't feel the sting of the brush-off. "All good, all good. We get it, busy guy. But if you change your mind or just need a break from all this—" he waved at the lively hall, the chatter swelling like a wave, "give us a call. We're around, door's always open."

Amara nodded, her smile holding steady, warm but not pushy. "Exactly. You're doing big things, Devon, but even the sharpest minds need a minute to breathe. Just let us know if you're up for it."

Devon slipped the card into his pocket, giving a tight nod, his voice flat. "Will do," he said, eyes already drifting back to the crowd, scanning for anything that didn't belong, a figure lingering too long by a booth, a glance held a beat too sharp, a hand moving too quick near a bag.

The couples hung around a moment longer, tossing out light comments about the hologram displays—"That lung model's so real, I half expect it to cough," Leo joked and the buzz around new tech, then drifted off, their laughter fading into the hall's hum as they blended back into the sea of suits and smiles.

Devon leaned back against the bar, the cool wood a solid anchor under his elbow, his water glass chilly in his hand as he kept his eyes moving, sharp and restless. The system's warning looped in his mind, turning every face into a puzzle piece that didn't quite fit. Was it someone he'd crossed without knowing?

He caught more snippets as his eyes roamed—Dr. Elena Vasquez by the heart booth, her voice steady as she explained her no-cut valve fix to a rapt crowd: "It's all about precision, miss the angle by a hair, and you're back to square one. We've had zero failures in our last hundred cases."

A young doc in the group piped up, "Could that work for pediatric cases? We're seeing valve issues in kids." Vasquez nodded, "We're testing it now—promising early data."

Across the way, Professor Liam Chen demoed his brain mapper, a researcher asking, "How's it handle rare disorders? We're hitting weird patterns in our scans."

Chen's reply came quick: "It flags outliers in seconds caught a misdiagnosis for us last month, saved the patient."

Another group near a robotic arm display buzzed with quieter talk, one surgeon muttering, "Dr Harlan Reed's pushing his blade as the next big thing, but I heard it glitched bad in trials nearly botched a limb. He's all talk."

His friend smirked, "Yeah, and he's gunning for Devon's spotlight, bet he's not thrilled Devon's here." The hall pulsed with life, ideas flying, rivalries simmering, but Devon's gut twisted tighter, every laugh hollow, every glance a potential threat.

The chatter dropped like a curtain as the host's voice cut through, sharp and clear, the tall woman in the sleek navy pantsuit stepping up to own the stage, her silver hair catching the spotlight like a polished crown. The crowd turned, faces glowing with expectation, as she stood at the podium carved with the exhibition's logo a glowing brain laced with a heart, a quiet nod to the blend of sharp minds and caring souls in the room. Devon shifted, his water glass sweating cold in his grip, eyes flicking between the stage and the crowd, the system's alert humming low like a warning bell only he could hear, urging him to stay sharp.

"Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed colleagues from across the globe," she began, her voice warm but strong, carrying through the hall with a pull that hushed every whisper and drew every eye. "Welcome to the Brave and Brightest Medicine Practices exhibition. Here in the beautiful city of Geneva, we gather not just as doctors, surgeons, or researchers, but as trailblazers daring to push the very edges of what healing can mean. This month-long event is more than booths filled with shiny new tools or panels packed with big ideas.

"it's a celebration of bold thinking, of working hand in hand, of chasing breakthroughs that don't just change lives but rewrite what's possible. From new ways to save patients in the chaos of an emergency room to steps toward making health fair for every person, everywhere, you are the finest minds our field has to offer. Let's spark each other's ideas, share the wins that keep us going, the slip-ups that teach us most, and forge connections that will ripple out, saving lives long after we leave these halls."

"We thank our generous sponsors who made this gathering possible, and a special nod to Geneva, a city that's long been a heartbeat for global health efforts, a place where ideas meet action. And now, for our first challenge of the exhibition, a true test of skill, nerve, and precision under pressure, the blindfold surgery."

Devon's face drained of color, his jaw dropping like he'd seen a ghost step right through the wall. "You've got to be kidding me," he muttered under his breath.

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