People in Terra, poor and weak but invincible

Chapter 678 The Noisy Poet

“What is a gynecologist?”

Sarkaz paused and asked a question that stunned the poet.

The two looked at each other, and the poet saw from Sarkaz's clear and stupid eyes that the other party was confused from the bottom of his heart.

"this problem……"

"Don't worry about it for now, we are all doctors anyway!"

Although Sarkaz does not have enough knowledge, he is very capable!

He interrupted the poet and ran away.

The poet's eyes widened wider and wider, and he tried his best to look up at Vina in the crowd, his eyes full of help.

Faced with the poet's pitiful eyes, Vina couldn't help but hold her forehead and hurriedly took a step to catch up.

Her action immediately triggered a herd mentality among the crowd, and they all followed her out of the hotel.

The Sarkaz were carrying the poet who had lost all hope in life and running wildly in front, while behind them was a large group of people led by Vina.

After running for a distance, Vina suddenly reacted, slowly ran away from the crowd, and contacted Klushel with the communicator:

"Please ask Dr. Kal'tsit to come over. There is a pregnant woman with a difficult labor here."

"Ah... ah?"

Kal'tsit asked through the communicator: "Can Kal'tsit deliver babies?"

Before Vina could answer, she heard a familiar riddle coming from Klushel's side:

"In this land, the knowledge a doctor should have..."

"I understand, you can." Kluchil interrupted the riddle in time, "Then hurry up and save people first. These are two lives!"

"...Everyone, move forward. I will be in charge of delivering the baby. The rest of you should be on guard. If you find Qi Yan, arrest him immediately!"

"Yes!"

Hearing the voices of everyone on the communicator, Vina felt relieved, hung up the phone and continued on her way.

Soon everyone arrived at another camp where civilians were resting not far from the hotel.

The Sarkaz carried the poet and shouted:

"Everyone, make way. I'm back with the doctor! An Meng, quickly evacuate the crowd!"

Ameng immediately squeezed out of the crowd. Before he could speak to organize the action, the crowd took the initiative to make way to both sides, opening a wide passage.

Sarkaz did not stop and rushed towards a pregnant woman in the middle of the crowd.

At this moment, the woman was sweating all over as if she had just been pulled out of the water, and there was a pool of blood under her body.

Next to the woman, her husband held her hand tightly, also sweating profusely from anxiety.

Sarkaz put the poet down, held his shoulders and said anxiously:

"Hurry up and save them!"

"Ah this... I... It's not... I don't know how!" The poet was also frightened by this scene and began to speak incoherently.

"Aren't you a doctor?" Sarkaz asked angrily.

"I'm not a gynecologist, I've told you that!" The poet was also annoyed.

"What exactly is a gynecologist?" Sarkaz was even more annoyed than him.

poet:"……"

He just felt extremely tired.

The poet never dreamed that these Sarkaz, who could talk all night long if asked about how to choose and maintain weapons, would be stumped by common sense that even a few-year-old child in Victoria knew.

"Don't you Sarkaz have children?" He couldn't help but complain.

"We?" Sarkaz said impatiently, "For us women to give birth, we just need to find a relatively clean place and let them push hard. If the baby is born, everything will be fine. If not, we can just find a place to bury it based on our mood.

The souls will come to take the mother and child back to their arms... Oh, why are you talking about this? I don’t care whether you can do it or not, just try it first!"

"I……"

The poet stared at the Sarkaz blankly.

Although he was an intelligence officer, it was the first time he learned about the Sarkaz clan.

To be honest, his spirit was somewhat shocked.

"I, I'll try."

He looked around and saw Sarkaz and Victorians of all races gathered together, all looking at him nervously. That indescribable clear hope weighed on his shoulders.

Weird, heavy, yet so clean.

The poet lowered his head and saw the pregnant woman who was showing signs of fainting, and her husband who was looking up at him, with pleading and hopeful eyes.

A sigh came from the poet's mouth.

He squatted down and tried hard to recall all the medical knowledge in his mind.

"Go prepare a basin of hot water first. The baby will get hypothermia easily if there is no hot water after birth."

"I go!"

Countless responses merged into one, and the crowd dispersed and ran madly in search of hot water.

The poet gently held up the pregnant woman's head and asked:

"Can you still hear my voice? If you can, then... use more force, you must use more force!"

"I...um!"

The pregnant woman's lips trembled slightly.

The poet was shocked to find that when he touched the pregnant woman's hand, he felt it was cold.

"It's due to excessive blood loss. This won't work. We absolutely can't go on like this."

The poet didn't know why. Although the outcome of the pregnant woman should have nothing to do with him, he felt a sense of panic at this moment.

For the first time, he began to hate himself for not studying the relevant knowledge seriously when he got this doctor's certificate. If he really had professional medical knowledge, instead of only the first aid knowledge learned on the battlefield, it would not be so difficult at this moment.

If only... he hadn't pretended to be a doctor.

A thought suddenly flashed through the poet's mind.

But then he suddenly raised his hand and slapped himself.

"doctor?"

The pregnant woman's husband was a little surprised.

But the poet did not answer. He took a deep breath, lowered his head, and continued to encourage the pregnant woman:

"You can do it, come on, think about your child, he might be a boy, and he cries so loudly after he is born that we can't sleep at night.

It could also be a girl. Hey, girls are good. If I can wait until I retire and start a family, I also want a girl. She is much more well-behaved than a bad boy.

Think about it, try to think that your children are waiting to come out to see you, you must hold on! "

The pregnant woman raised her hand with difficulty, her lips trembling as if she wanted to say something.

The poet quickly put his ear close to it:

"Speak louder, I'm listening, I'm listening."

The pregnant woman gasped twice and gritted her teeth:

"You are noisy."

poet:"……"

Just as he was about to reply, the pregnant woman spoke again:

"But I remember, I will hold on, try harder, I... try harder... ah!"

An infinite power seemed to suddenly burst out from her weak body, and she raised her head and let out a loud roar.

The poet's ear was close to her mouth, and his head was buzzing immediately.

But he had no opinions, and didn't even care that his own voice seemed to become distant, and he kept saying encouraging words.

The pregnant woman's body was shaking, but her clenched teeth couldn't help but loosen slowly.

She fixed her eyes on the poet.

The emotion in those eyes. The poet clearly thought he liked to show off his words and often published his works in magazines, but at this moment he had no idea what words to use to describe it.

He could only watch as the pregnant woman's body slowly became limp, and felt in horror the strength of the person slowly draining away from him.

The pregnant woman's eyelids struggled, but slowly closed uncontrollably.

The poet only felt that the exclamations of the people around him were moving away. He kept shouting something, but it seemed that he could not even hear his own voice.

Until a firm female voice exploded in his ears.

"Step aside."

The poet raised his head in a trance.

But the other party was obviously impatient and spoke again:

"M3, throw him out."

"Roar!"

(There is still one chapter left, I will stay up all night to finish it!)

(If you have made a promise, you must do it!)