That Time I Was Reincarnated As A Medieval Barber

Chapter 1

Chapter 1: A New Beginning

Allison Carter stood in the stark, fluorescent light of the operating room, her hands steady as she finished suturing a patient’s abdomen. Her eyes, sharp and piercing, flicked to the clock on the wall. Time was a luxury she rarely afforded, especially in the high-stakes environment of surgery. With her reputation as one of the best surgeons, she had little patience for mistakes—her own or those of her interns.

“Cut, short!” she snapped, her voice cutting through the tension. The young intern, a nervous boy named Tom, fumbled with the instruments, his hands shaking as he cut the suture, his cut wasn't short enough.

“Sorry, Dr. Carter,” he stammered.

Allison rolled her eyes, focusing intently on her work. “You need to learn to keep your composure. A surgeon’s hands should be as steady as their mind.”

She finished the final stitch and stepped back, surveying her work with a critical eye. To her, patients were not people but puzzles to be solved, and she prided herself on her ability to dissect the human body with precision and skill. But the warmth that should accompany healing was foreign to her.

“Dr. Carter,” a voice called from the doorway. It was Dr. Simmons, the chief of surgery, looking more weary than usual. “We need to talk about your bedside manner.”

Allison turned, annoyance flaring. “I’m a surgeon, not a therapist. My job is to save lives, not coddle patients.”

Simmons sighed, running a hand through his thinning hair. “I understand that, but your harshness is driving the interns away and putting off patients. You need to show some empathy.”

“Empathy doesn’t save lives, Doctor,” she retorted, her voice laced with impatience. “Results do.”

As Simmons opened his mouth to respond, the air shimmered around Allison, a sensation that felt like being pulled in two directions at once. She blinked, and suddenly the sterile white of the operating room faded into something darker.

Allison Carter had always prided herself on her punctuality. As she sped along the winding road to the medical convention, she felt a familiar rush of adrenaline. The event promised to be filled with cutting-edge discussions and groundbreaking research—everything a surgeon like her thrived on.

With the radio playing softly in the background, she glanced at her watch, mentally calculating how long it would take her to arrive. “Ten more minutes,” she muttered to herself, gripping the steering wheel with determination. She could already envision the praise she would receive from her peers when she presented her latest findings on surgical techniques.

But as she approached the old stone bridge, the sun suddenly dipped behind a cloud, casting an ominous shadow across the road. “Just a little longer,” she urged herself, pressing down on the accelerator. The bridge loomed ahead, its weathered stones standing firm against the rolling river below.

Without warning, a deer darted across the road. “What the—!” Allison barely had time to react. She swerved instinctively to avoid the animal, her heart racing as the world outside the car turned chaotic.

The car skidded on the slick pavement, tires screeching in protest. She struggled to regain control, her mind racing. “Stay calm, stay calm,” she chanted under her breath, but panic clawed at her throat.

Before she could process what was happening, the car veered off the edge of the bridge. The rush of air filled her ears as the world outside became a blur of sky and water.

“No! No!” Allison screamed, gripping the steering wheel as the car plunged toward the river below. Time slowed, her heart pounding in her chest as she braced for impact.