Rusty smell.
The strong, nauseating smell of rust clung to his throat.
Gu Shen opened his eyes suddenly, his vision was like a broken lens, pieced together into a dim and shaking ceiling.
There was a sharp tearing pain on the right side of the neck. It was a sharp laceration half a centimeter next to the carotid artery.
As a surgical director who has held the Lancet for ten years, he does not need to look in the mirror. He can accurately judge based on the radiating range of pain and the warm feeling of blood loss - if it is off by three millimeters, it will be impossible for the gods to save him.
