"Hi, I’m Roscoe Bowman, the new doctor here. Could you tell me who I should report to?"

It was early morning. Inside the infusion room of Duoya Community Hospital, two nurses were tidying up. No patients had shown up yet.

Just then, a tall, sunny-looking young man walked in. He was about six feet tall, around twenty-five or twenty-six years old, and ridiculously good-looking.

The moment the two nurses saw him, their eyes lit up.

Seriously handsome!

In a small community hospital like this, there weren’t many medical staff around. Most patients were seniors or kids from nearby neighborhoods. Young people rarely came here—especially someone like him.

"You’re the new doctor?"

The younger nurse instantly beamed, walking up to him with an eager smile.

The other nurse, a beat slower, looked annoyed she missed her chance, then quickly joined in.

"Yes, I just got here. Not sure who I should check in with," Roscoe replied politely.

He wasn’t fazed by the warm welcome or the way they looked at him. He’d gotten used to the attention long ago. Back in school, seniors and juniors alike used to shower him with little gifts.

It’s true—being attractive does make life smoother.

"Not many people work here, so nothing too formal. Just say hi to the director when she comes in," the younger nurse said enthusiastically.

She looked to be about twenty-five or twenty-six, while her colleague was probably closer to twenty-eight. Both had pleasant appearances—even if not stunning, they were definitely easy on the eyes.

As they chatted, footsteps echoed from the hallway. A woman in her forties walked into the room.

"Director Harrison’s here!" the younger nurse whispered quickly, then turned and greeted the woman with a cheerful voice, "Director, we’ve got a new arrival."

"Hello, Director Harrison. I’m Roscoe Bowman. We spoke on the phone yesterday."

Roscoe stepped forward with a courteous smile, extending his hand.

"Nice to meet you," Thelma Harrison replied warmly, shaking his hand. "Welcome aboard, Roscoe. You’re officially our second male doctor here at Duoya Community Hospital."

Thelma had known there would be a new male doctor joining soon—she always made sure to learn about new hires ahead of time. But what she hadn’t expected was him being such a bright, charming young man.

Despite the name, Duoya Community Hospital was pretty basic.

In terms of level, it was more like a rural clinic. In this big city, top-tier hospitals were everywhere, and this little one barely compared—even to some countryside facilities.

In rural areas, due to inconvenient transportation and fewer large hospitals, villagers often had to travel all the way to the county to handle even moderately complex illnesses. So, those town clinics usually served entire populations, had five or six doctors, several treatment rooms, and even inpatient wards.The Duoya Community Hospital was honestly tiny. Including Roscoe Bowman, who’d just arrived, and Thelma Harrison, the director, the hospital only had five doctors in total.

There were a few more nurses: two in the infusion room, three in the vaccination area, one in the lab, one handling payments, and one in the pharmacy.

Altogether, the entire staff barely added up to over a dozen people.

The place was also pretty barebones in terms of facilities — just two consultation rooms, one infusion room, one lab, and a space for vaccinations. That was it.

There wasn't an inpatient ward, so doctors didn’t have assigned nurses. You saw patients, then clocked out when your shift ended. Even testing options were basic at best — only something like a routine blood test.

Most of the time, the busiest place in the hospital wasn’t the consultation rooms, but the vaccination area for kids. That spot had a doctor assigned full-time for routine checkups.

It was basically a women-dominated zone — almost every doctor and nurse was female. Before Roscoe's arrival, there’d only been one male doctor. With him, that grand total doubled.

“This is Nurse Mia Wilson, and that’s Nurse Celine Carter over there...” Thelma Harrison introduced the two nurses from the infusion room while showing Roscoe around.

Mia was the younger one, while Celine looked a bit older.

Since Roscoe had arrived early, most of the doctors hadn't clocked in yet. At the moment, only the two nurses in the infusion room and one in the vaccination area were on duty. None of the doctors were in yet.

“Our hospital runs pretty on-schedule,” Thelma explained as they walked. “Staff come in right on time, no overtime here. Doctors head straight to their rooms. Patients don’t need to register — they just line up outside each consultation room. First come, first served. No registration fees, it's very straightforward.”

She opened a nearby door. “This is the room I had tidied up for you. Used to be for storage, but it's got enough space. From now on, it’s your office.”

The space was decent. A new sign labeled “Traditional Medicine Room” had already been hung at the door.

Earlier, Roscoe had noticed two other rooms nearby labeled “Consultation Room 1” and “Consultation Room 2.”

“Thanks, Dr. Harrison,” Roscoe said as he looked around. The setup was pretty satisfying.

A smaller hospital had its perks: fewer rules, fewer people, and not much of a power hierarchy between doctors. Even if job titles existed, there wasn’t any running errands or writing up charts for the seniors.

You got your own room. No need for patient registration. If someone came in, you treated them. If not, you could sip tea and chill. The only downside? Slim chances for professional growth.

“No experienced mentors, no better platform, and not even people to learn from,” he thought silently.

“If you’re lucky, maybe you’ll land a spot to train in a big hospital after a few years, pick up the real stuff, and leap to a better job. If not, and you’ve got no connections, you’re just stuck in a place like this forever.”"Thelma, you know I’ve got a graduate degree—why’d I choose a small community hospital like this instead of heading to the county hospital?" Roscoe Bowman wasn’t surprised by the question.

Thelma Harrison knew his background well enough.

He’d graduated from Zhongzhou University of Traditional Chinese Medicine with a master’s degree, done his residency, got his official license, and had all his credentials lined up. Any hospital would’ve expected him to at least have the license in hand. Without it, not only would he be useless here, he might not even land the job. No one to mentor, no authority to prescribe—around here, even nurses had more weight than someone without the certs.

Roscoe gave a small shrug and said, “These days, having a master's really doesn’t mean much. Decent hospitals all want that as a starting point; some places are flooded with PhDs. It's tough to job-hunt with just a medical school degree. Plus, I majored in integrative medicine—makes it even harder.”

He paused, then added frankly, “Honestly, I sent resumes to several community hospitals. You’re the only one who called me back.”

Thelma smiled knowingly. “It's rough out there, unless you’re a standout or lucky enough to impress someone during your internship. To tell you the truth, if it wasn't for the regulation requiring a TCM doctor at every community clinic, we wouldn’t even be hiring right now. That clinic room of yours? We just cleared it out yesterday.”

The current medical landscape wasn’t exactly encouraging. Big hospitals were always saying they needed staff, but their standards were sky-high—degrees, experience, track records. Most medical grads either switched tracks or ended up in small clinics like this. Less than a third ever made it into major hospitals.

“Well, enough talk.” Thelma glanced at the clock. “You can take your time getting used to things. We don’t assign patients here—the moment someone walks into your office and wants to see you, they're yours. If nobody comes in, just take it easy.”

“Salaries are based on title and years of work, that’s set. Bonus depends purely on how many patients you see. There's a sign-in sheet out front. We don’t go through formal registrations here, but everyone coming in still needs to be logged.”

She pointed toward the corner. “I won't give you strict quotas. If you want to earn more, start building a name for yourself. Once word gets out, patients will line up. If you just want a quiet gig, that’s your call too.”

At this hospital, the TCM department was basically symbolic. Recent policies had pushed for the promotion of traditional medicine, so regulations forced even tiny village clinics to have a TCM unit. As for Thelma, she didn’t really buy into it—Roscoe was hired just to tick a box, not because anyone was banking on him.

“Got it. Thanks for the rundown.”

Roscoe nodded, eyes following her as she turned to leave.

“Oh, and one more thing,” she turned briefly at the door. “No cafeteria here. Lunch money gets subsidized a bit, but we all handle our own meals. Since it’s your first day, I’ll take the team out for lunch so you can meet everyone. Someone will drop off your uniform shortly.”

“Really appreciate it.”

As Thelma’s footsteps faded down the corridor, Roscoe’s polite smile disappeared. His expression turned sharply focused.

He stared ahead as if seeing something beyond the walls, mind zeroed in. Just then, a translucent panel blinked to life in front of him.

It was minimalist, with only one line of text:

“Successfully onboarded. Simulated Space-Time +50. Remaining time: 73.”