?Chapter 766:


    Corrine regarded him with a calm, unreadable expression before nodding once. Then, without another word, she turned and walked out. The moment she stepped into the hallway, she was surrounded by military personnel.


    “How does it look?” one asked.


    “Will it affect the uing exercise?” another inquired urgently.


    Questions flew at Corrine from all directions.


    She met their anxious gazes with indifference. “The shoulder de and wrist are fine,” she responded. “The corbone will require a metal pin, but it’s manageable.”


    Relieved sighs rippled through the group.


    Carson had been a key sniper in their training programs for the past two years. A serious injury would have had significant repercussions. Fortunately, the situation was under control.


    “You make it sound so simple,” a nearby doctor, Rollins Adams, scoffed. “Do you think your treatment works miracles?” His tone was casual but loaded with skepticism.


    Corrine’s eyes narrowed slightly as she turned to face him. “If you could cure him, why did you call me in the first ce?” She tilted her head, her voice edged with challenge. “Was it just to embarrass yourself?”


    Rollins’ face darkened. “You’re just lucky! What’s there to be proud of?” he snapped.


    “Mastering luck is a skill in itself.” A deep, resonant voice echoed down the corridor.


    All heads turned to see Nigel approaching in a wheelchair, his expression calm yetmanding. As he drew near, respectful greetings rippled through the crowd.


    His sharp gaze swept over everyone before settling on Corrine. Then, he turned to Rollins and said, “Her treatment method has been refined through countless practices. It didn’t just appear out of nowhere.”


    “The skill of bonesetting is not merely about knowledge; it is a delicate dance between judgment and precision. With the right technique, a patient can heal without pain, without even the shadow of difort. But a single misstep—a slight miscalction—can lead to agony or, worse, irreversible consequences.”


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    Nigel, now aged and weathered by time, had long since retired, choosing to spend his remaining years in quiet repose. Yet, in the military district, his name still carried the weight of legend, his expertise a beacon of excellence.


    The moment Rollinsid eyes on Nigel, his earlier arrogance crumbled like a sandcastle before the tide. “Mr. Miller, it’s not that I belittle this technique,” he hastily exined, his tone nowden with humility. “It’s just that this youngdy seemed so dismissive.”


    “Rollins,” Nigel replied evenly, his voice calm yet sharp as a scalpel, “if you possessed even a fraction of her skill, you too could afford to be dismissive.”


    His words, though spoken softly, struck like a hammer against Rollins’ pride, rendering him speechless.


    Nigel then gestured toward Corrine. “Come here, my student.” She stepped forward obediently. “Mr. Miller.” A collective gasp swept through the room.


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