Chapter 1: The Proctology Department Saves the World

　　In the endless void, darkness is the most fundamental color. Chaotic energy surges endlessly, without end. Here, there is no such thing as space, time has no meaning, there is no direction, no before or after.

　　Only countless colorful orbs of light, like soap bubbles, strive to emit brilliant colors to dispel the ever-surging chaotic energy. They combine in an orderly yet elusive manner, rotating and grinding like gears, fluid and ambiguous. These fragile soap bubbles tangle together, huddling for warmth, resisting the onslaught of chaos—sturdy yet precarious, as if they might collapse at any moment.

　　Who knows how much time passed like this, when a few orbs inevitably collided and came to a stop. Compared to the torrent formed by countless orbs, these few reckless orbs were utterly unremarkable. Yet this inconspicuous jam triggered a domino effect, setting off a chain reaction. The entire orderly torrent came to a halt, as if someone had pressed pause on a remote control—the scene froze.

　　One by one, the orbs shifted from motion to stillness, rubbing and squeezing against each other. Each orb bore the immense pressure of suddenly stopping, deforming and on the verge of bursting. With the chaotic energy fanning the flames, there was a real risk of everything collapsing into scattered sand. But there are always laws among all things—where there is destruction, there is creation; even a doomed situation holds a sliver of hope. The friction between the orbs generated a force that, when met with the surging chaos, merged into an indescribable power. That power turned into a gray bolt of lightning, shooting toward a nearby, utterly unremarkable soap bubble.

　　Obviously, a mere soap bubble's integrity couldn't stop the gray lightning's forceful advance. After a token resistance, it was instantly penetrated. The surrounding soap bubbles quickly distanced themselves, unwilling to witness such a scandalous live broadcast. Yet the gray lightning refused to let them go, splitting like white light through a prism into countless currents too fine for the naked eye, spreading to all the soap bubbles. In an instant, the entire chaotic void trembled.

　　Faced with the gasping soap bubbles, the gray lightning was very satisfied. My harem should be like this—everyone gets a share!

　　Afterward, all returned to calm. The soap bubbles dared not complain, gritted their teeth in silence, tangled together once more, rubbing and huddling for warmth, shining and giving off heat. Throughout the process, aside from suffocating tens of thousands of so-called creator gods and scaring seven or eight hundred promising young "creators" insane, everything else was fine.

　　Truly, what a cause for celebration! What a cause for celebration!

　　……

　　Earth, China, XX Province, OO City, at the end of the left corridor on the second floor of a private hospital, in the men's restroom. At twenty-five, not yet thirty, Henry Carter sat on the toilet, sighing and lamenting how hard life was. His white coat hung nearby, with a silver badge on his chest that gleamed with three big characters: Proctology Department!

　　As the saying goes: men fear choosing the wrong career, women fear marrying the wrong man!

　　Henry Carter vaguely remembered one summer in high school, when he had diarrhea and went to the hospital for an IV. In the restroom, he overheard a conversation between three doctors. At the time, they said:

　　"Internal medicine isn't popular anymore. Dentistry is the most profitable! These days, everyone, young and old, loves to eat. If it flies in the sky or swims in the water, they'll eat it. If they miss a meal, they feel off. So, to take care of their mouths, they're willing to spend any amount."

　　"Not true, plastic surgery is where the money is! Everyone wants to look good. Anyone with ambition will get a little work done on their face. With one operation, you could kick out the original spouse and marry into a rich family—it's not a dream! I even heard it can prolong your life, though who knows if that's true. At the very least, it gives you an edge in the job market. I'm telling you, making money in plastic surgery is like robbing a bank—we can't compete!"

　　"Bull! Ophthalmology is the real money-maker! That's fundamental, and there's no discount anywhere in the world!"

　　"Right, right, that's the one that makes money!"

　　"Yeah, yeah! We all chose the wrong field back then!"

　　Though they spoke quietly, Henry Carter, who was eavesdropping, heard every word. The last doctor's words resonated with him. When you've lost control of your sphincter, forget about being invited to a grand feast—even if aliens invade Earth, let me squat here first. Though diarrhea is for gastroenterology, Henry Carter, who could no longer feel his sphincter, insisted that the sphincter clearly belongs to proctology... the Proctology Department. The last doctor was right—this is fundamental. Dentistry and plastic surgery are just clouds; they can't save the world.

　　So Henry Carter changed his lazy ways, studied hard, and eventually became a top student, successfully getting into medical school. Gritting his teeth, he gave up his dream of gynecology and resolutely embraced proctology—for a bright financial future... no, for the sake of saving the very foundation of millions of lives.

　　From then on, Henry Carter began his tragic career in the Proctology Department!