Chapter 22 — The One Who Keeps The Venom Saves People

Two months later, the pilot system called "Vinh Khe Antivenom Serum Sharing Network" officially went into operation, with the initial participation of Khe Lanh Snake Farm, Vinh Khe Provincial General Hospital, and five district hospitals in the area, including Son Trach district hospital. A simple online dashboard shows each unit's stockpile status, updated every morning, along with a phone emergency contact team to handle situations that require quick dispatch.

On the third morning of the month, Du was doing a routine check on the snakes in the breeding area when her phone rang, not an ordinary emergency call but a text message from the network's communications team.

"Vuc Trong district hospital reported a case of snake bite. The patient was thirty-five years old and had symptoms of progressive respiratory muscle paralysis. There are two bottles of multivalent serum in stock. More are needed to get the full dose."

Du read the message, then opened the data panel application on his phone, immediately checking the reserve status of neighboring units. Son Trach district hospital still has four vials of multivalent serum, the distance to Vuc Trong is only twenty kilometers, much closer than waiting for transfer from the province.

She immediately called Thu. "Ms. Thu, Vuc Trong side needs four bottles of polyvalent serum for the snakebite, do you still have enough?"

"There's enough left, I'll order two bottles right away, keep two bottles in case something else happens." The letter replied, her voice familiar with the new process after several previous test operations, no longer any surprise. "I'll call an ambulance to leave immediately."

The entire process from receiving the request to the time the ambulance departed took less than fifteen minutes — a complete difference from the hours of calling each place to inquire on a rainy night two months ago.

Khiem walked over from the venom extraction area, overheard part of the conversation on the phone, and asked as soon as Du hung up. "Which case is it? Do we need help catching more individuals?"

"The scorpion bites in Vuc Trong, but we don't need us this time." Du replied, his voice relieved, different from the tense atmosphere that often accompanied similar calls before. "The multi-price reserve in Son Trach is enough to handle it. The network is doing its job properly, there is no need for us to rush out into the streets anymore."

"Sounds great." Khiem smiled, then suddenly remembered something. "Ah, this morning I just received a report that people in the next commune discovered a cobra crawling into the chicken coop. They called the camp to help catch it. I plan to handle it myself, is that okay?"

Du looked at him, a sense of pride flashed through his eyes. Eight months ago, he was still a trembling young man, not daring to hold a snake hook alone. Now, he is confident enough to take on an independent snake-catching mission without supervision.

"Okay, I can go alone." She nodded. "Remember to follow proper safety procedures, approach from behind, keep a distance from the long hook, and always carry a radio to communicate with the camp."

"I remember everything, sister." Khiem smiled brightly and proudly, then hurried to prepare equipment for his first completely independent trip.

Du watched his shadow disappear behind the row of barns, feeling both proud and nostalgic. She remembered that rainy night, when he was still a novice who had never faced real danger, and now, he had become a technician brave enough to handle similar situations on his own.

Du monitored the situation through constant text updates in the communication group throughout that morning, occasionally glancing at the phone screen while continuing his daily work at the camp. The ambulance arrived at Vuc Trong after forty minutes of traveling. Serum was injected immediately according to the protocol. At noon, the last message of the day came back: the patient had passed the most dangerous stage, and his respiratory indicators were gradually improving.

She put down the phone, a feeling of relief different from the one she experienced two months ago spread in her heart. This was not a night of breathless racing against time, not a call for help denied for lack of information, but simply a system doing exactly what it was designed to do — quickly, efficiently, without requiring anyone's luck or extraordinary courage.

Thanh walked into the snake breeding area and saw Du standing silently looking at his phone. "What's up?"

"The hot scorpion bitten in Vuc Trong, the network has just finished processing." Du replied, turning to him with a slight smile. "From the time the request was received to the time the serum was on site, it took less than an hour."

"So the system works fine." Thanh nodded with satisfaction. "There was no drama, no crisis, everything simply happened as planned."

"That's exactly what I wanted when I proposed this network." Du said, his voice full of satisfaction, his eyes looking far away at the mountains dimly hidden behind the morning mist. "Not to create more heroic stories in the middle of a rainy night, but so that no one will need such a heroic story anymore."

Thanh patted her shoulder gently, a gesture that had become a habit between the two since that night. "The Department of Health just sent an official dispatch this morning, appreciating the pilot results of the past two months, proposing to expand the model to three more neighboring provinces next year."

"Really?" Du looked up, his eyes bright with surprise. "That fast?"

"Numbers talk." Thanh smiled, his voice filled with undisguised pride. "Since the network went live, the average time to coordinate serum in emergency cases has decreased from over three hours to less than forty-five minutes. There is no reason not to replicate it."

Du stood there, looking out at the snake breeding area where dozens of individuals lay quietly in the morning sunlight, each contributing a small part to the complex chain of work that has saved countless lives during her eight years in the profession. She thought of little Nhi, of the man in Vuc Trong she had never met, and of all the others who in the future would benefit from the system she helped build through her own pain.

That afternoon, Thu called to tell the news, her voice full of excitement. "Ms. Du, the man in Vuc Trong just had his breathing tube removed and is breathing normally on his own. The doctor there said that if he had waited half an hour longer, he might not have made it."

"Thank you for reporting." Du replied, a slight smile on his lips. "The network is working as expected, no need for any risky trips in the middle of the night."

"I have to be honest, at first I was skeptical whether such a simple system would really make a big difference." Letter of acknowledgment. "But after a few practical operations, I found it to be much more effective than I thought, much faster than the old way."

"Sometimes the best solution isn't the most complicated one, but the one that solves the core problem." Du said, recalling the entire journey from that rainy night until today. "The core problem that night was not a lack of knowledge or lack of determination, but a lack of timely information. The network simply filled that gap, so that no one had to grope in the dark like we did that night."

The call ended, Du stood still for a moment in the afternoon sunlight that was gradually slanting its shadow across the snake breeding area, letting the good news settle completely in his heart. She thought about the distance she had traveled in two short months — from a chaotic night filled with fear and helplessness, to a system that was silently saving lives, operating smoothly like a machine operated by the coordination of many strangers but with a common purpose.

She pulled out her phone, opened the old photo of her father that she always saved in her private album, and looked at it for a long time. "I've done more than I thought I could do, Dad." She whispered, then put the phone in her pocket, returning to the routine of a normal working day at Khe Lanh Snake Farm - a normalcy that she had to go through many hardships to achieve.

From afar, the sound of Khiem's motorbike engine rang out. He was on his way to the next commune to handle the case of a cobra crawling into the chicken coop, a small task compared to the historic flood night two months ago, but still an indispensable part of the daily work of venom keepers like them. Du stood watching the car disappear behind the farm gate, then turned inside to continue the routine health check for the snakes waiting for her.