Li Guanqi furrowed his brows and pressed his palm down slightly harder, his fingers moving back and forth over Shuang Shenghua’s chest, yet he couldn’t feel the familiar heartbeat.
“How is that possible?” he wondered to himself.
A heartbeat is a symbol of life, how could she have none of it?
He picked up the stethoscope beside him and gently placed the cold diaphragm against her chest, pressing his ear against the other end, listening intently.
Shuang Shenghua was dumbfounded by this whole process.
“Uh…
You touch a girl’s chest, and that’s your reaction?”
“I feel kind of offended.”
Li Guanqi remained focused on the auscultation and replied indifferently, “In my eyes, you’re just a patient.”
The stethoscope still delivered nothing but despairing silence—no heartbeat at all.
“Have you ever had heart problems before?”
“You should get a cardiac ultrasound.”
Li Guanqi unconsciously shook his head, feeling a little helpless.
With his level as an intern, he really had no idea what kind of illness this could be.
If not for the fact that she had body temperature, he’d suspect he had run into a ghost.
“This is really strange.” Shuang Shenghua looked at him and said, “Your reaction to touching my chest is just like Dr.
Li’s.
Not even a blush, how rude.”
“But you…
you shouldn’t be Dr.
Li.”
Li Guanqi paused.
“Why?”
“I don’t have a heart.” Shuang Shenghua recalled.
“Dr.
Li was the one who performed the surgery, he replaced my heart with a card.”
“He even said it was a very important card.”
“If you were Dr.
Li, you wouldn’t have forgotten.”
“Stop, stop, stop!” Li Guanqi raised his hand, cutting off her recollection.
Replacing a heart with a card, what kind of medical miracle was that?
He sighed and said, “Miss, no card can replace a heart.
Go get an ultrasound tomorrow.”
“You don’t believe me!” Shuang Shenghua crossed her arms and pouted stubbornly.
Three parts frustration, seven parts resentment———– plus ninety parts cuteness.
Li Guanqi raised his hand slightly, his expression firm.
“I believe in science.”
“Unless you can summon <Lady Labrynth> right in front of me.”
“<Lady Labrynth>?” Shuang Shenghua raised an eyebrow and muttered, “The Silver Castle is in the Arctic, that’s really far away.”
“The Silver Castle is in the Arctic?
You’ve got quite the imagination.” Li Guanqi rubbed his forehead with a sigh.
“You should get admitted to the hospital.
Your heart and nervous system both seem to have issues.”
<Lady Labrynth> and her <Silver Castle> were just cards, purely fictional characters.
“You just don’t believe me!” Shuang Shenghua stomped her foot, looking anxious.
“I’m your doctor, don’t try to pass your illness on to me.”
“Then we’ll just have to settle this!”
“Fine, bring it on!
Wait, bring what?”
“What else?
With a duel!”
“Oh?” Li Guanqi smirked, straightened his lab coat as a sign of respect, and said, “Miss, you’ve got guts.”
Never in his wildest dreams did he expect that his first doctor-patient conflict would be resolved with a duel.
“At this point, there’s no backing out.” Li Guanqi flicked his thumb, his gaze sharp.
“Log in!”
Any proper card player would recognize that as a call for an online duel.
Shuang Shenghua looked around the hospital room, her brows slightly furrowed.
“Can you even log into an account here?”
“An account?
Do you only play MD?” Li Guanqi asked suspiciously.
“Just use YGO, you don’t need an account to play.”
(T/N: Not sure what app author is talking about, but he’s probably referring to EDOPro.
You need an account for YGO Omega after all.
BTW, MD is Master Duel.)
MD and YGO were both Yu-Gi-Oh!
platforms.
The former required an account with progression, and cards had to be pulled using virtual currency, while the latter had every card available for free.
“MD?
YGO?” The confusion in Shuang Shenghua’s eyes deepened.
“Could it be…”
She was slowly realizing that something was off.
Her expression turned serious.
Earlier, when he mentioned “Year 2026”, she could still brush it off as different ways of expressing time in different places.
After all, the world was big, and there were bound to be some odd discrepancies.
But if———–
If the rules of dueling, or even the dueling platform itself, had changed…
Then she had to consider a possibility.
“A different world…?” Shuang Shenghua muttered, gripping her chin tightly.
Meanwhile, Li Guanqi tapped his phone a few times, opened the YGO app, entered the deck editor, and handed it to her.
“Here, build your own deck.”
“All the cards are there.”
YGO’s card pool was more complete than MD’s, including pre-release cards, anything a player wanted to use was available.
“All the cards?
You’re bluffing, that’s impossible————-” Shuang Shenghua typed <Rose Dragon> into the search bar, and when she saw the results, her eyes widened.
She clutched her head and screamed, “AHHHH——–”
“They’re all…
really all there?!”
Her voice trembled as if she had seen something horrifying.
“Is that really such a big deal?” Li Guanqi was startled by her reaction.
Shuang Shenghua’s fingers trembled as she frantically typed <Tenpai>, <Swordsoul>, <Tearlaments> into the search bar.
The search results nearly made her drop the phone.
“They’re…
really all here…”
She turned to Li Guanqi, staring blankly.
“I- I can add all of these to my deck?”
“Is there some kind of cost?
Just tell me, fiend!”
“Well, you’ve already felt them——–”
“Stop———-” Li Guanqi cut her off with a deadpan expression and sighed.
“It’s a completely free platform, no need to spend money.”
“Really?” Shuang Shenghua eyed him skeptically, glancing around like a thief.
After confirming that no one was watching, she cautiously moved a <Tearlaments Scheiren> card into the deck slot.
Nothing unusual happened.
No curses, no backlash, no judging stares, and certainly no beatings.
“AHHHHH!!!”
Her eyes sparkled as she cried out in excitement.
“Trisulka didn’t jump out and attack me!”
Li Guanqi frowned.
“Trisulka?
Your sister?”
Shuang Shenghua, Trisulka———– it sounded like a set of sister-themed usernames.
So there were two of these dramatic card game addicts?
Shuang Shenghua didn’t respond.
She was completely immersed in the ecstasy of this “different world”, stuffing every card she’d ever wanted into her deck.
When 40 wasn’t enough, she went up to 60.
“HAHAHAHA!”
As she kept adding cards, she let out a villainous, but undeniably healthy, laugh.
“I’M INVINCIBLE!”
The goddess-like girl’s face grew more and more twisted———– this illness wasn’t light.
And it was all because of Yu-Gi-Oh!.
“…Oh.” Li Guanqi suddenly realized something.
“You’re using my phone.
What am I supposed to use?”
Without even looking up, Shuang Shenghua casually pointed.
“There’s an empty computer over there, isn’t there?”
“Downloading YGO on a hospital computer?” Li Guanqi was shocked by the audacity of the idea.
He quickly glanced around to confirm that no one was watching.
Strangely enough, the hospital was unusually quiet today.
He hesitated———— he wanted to slack off and play, but he was also a little worried.
“I’m your patient.” Shuang Shenghua sensed his hesitation and flashed a mischievous grin.
“This is part of my treatment.”
A sharp glint flashed in Li Guanqi’s eyes.
“You’re right!”
“This is absolutely necessary!”
“Today, I’m going to help you quit your addiction!”
“Hmph.” Shuang Shenghua grinned confidently.
“Looks like you still don’t understand what an “invincible deck” is.”
The two mentally unstable card game addicts locked eyes.
There was no turning back.
“YGO, activate!”
“Duel!” (×2)