His instinctive movement caught my attention. I looked at him in astonishment, "Atlas... you…"

"I'm fine..."

But as soon as he uttered those words, something was clearly wrong. His tall and straight figure leaned toward me, and I seemed to catch a whiff of a bloody smell.

Panicking, I shouted loudly, "Doctor!"

By the time the doctor arrived, he had already passed out.

The doctor cautiously conducted an examination and found an injury on his arm. It seemed to be a gunshot wound which had been hastily treated, and the blood on the bandage had partially coagulated.

The doctor cut off the bandage, treated the wound again, and administered an anti-inflammatory IV. Despite all this, he remained unconscious, completely unaware of everything that was happening around him.

After completing the examination, the doctor reassured me, "Don't worry. Mr. Atlas isn't in a coma; he's just in a deep sleep. Fortunately, the wound isn't infected, and the bullet seems to have grazed him. The wound i