Chapter 32: Physique |
Time flows like water.
A full year had passed since then.
Inside the clinic.
A pale, blood-drenched man collapsed onto the medical bed, a horrific gash torn across his chest.
By all appearances, he had been slashed by a blade.
"Mitsuri, bring the first-aid kit and the medical case, quickly!" Yeruashi commanded, his eyes sweeping over the patient. He donned his gloves and mask with practiced speed, immediately moving to staunch the bleeding and cleanse the wound.
"I'm on it!" Mitsuri nodded, sensing the urgency of the situation. She darted into the adjacent room and returned in less than ten seconds, lugging heavy equipment cases.
Yeruashi immediately pulled penicillin from the kit and began disinfecting the wound, barking orders for Mitsuri to prepare the sutures and other surgical tools.
The two moved with seamless coordination, handling everything from hemostasis and disinfection to anesthesia and suturing.
Her eyes were filled with adoration.
An entire year had passed since that blind date.
In that time, she had become Yeruashi's wife and his most trusted assistant.
Throughout the year, Yeruashi had delved deep into Western medicine. By blending it with his family's traditional knowledge, he had not only refined his medical expertise but also developed a miracle drug called "penicillin." This breakthrough had saved countless lives, earning him a reputation as the finest physician in the city.
Mitsuri overflowed with pride. Her love grew stronger every day as she watched her husband, who had only recently inherited the clinic, transform into a renowned and respected healer.
Yet, one shadow lingered, casting a veil of guilt over her heart—despite a year of marriage, she had not yet conceived.
Knowing Yeruashi could diagnose the root of any ailment, she had tentatively broached the subject a few months prior. He had simply replied that it was difficult for individuals with such drastically different constitutions to bring forth a new generation.
This explanation naturally led Mitsuri to reflect on her own unique physique, which was many times stronger than that of any ordinary man. It was obvious to her that limbs as slender as hers shouldn't possess such overwhelming power.
'To her, the culprit was obvious!'
She had lost her appetite for several days afterward, but slowly regained her spirit upon realizing that Yeruashi didn't seem to mind in the slightest.
This only deepened her devotion, though it occasionally made her wonder if she should find a "normal" girl for him as well...
Even while maintaining his facade as an ordinary man, Yeruashi found it easy to read Mitsuri's thoughts. He could only shake his head helplessly in response.
The problem, of course, was not Mitsuri.
His words hadn't referred to the gap between Mitsuri's strength and that of a normal human, but rather to the fact that he existed on an entirely different plane of reality.
Yeruashi could suppress his power and act the part of a mortal, but his fundamental essence remained unchanged. The best proof of this was the single strand of hair he had gifted to Shinobu and Kanae Kocho.
In his daily life, he could fall ill or even bleed, but such things were merely a performance to avoid unwanted attention. In reality, every drop of his blood contained enough energy to obliterate a planet—a catastrophe prevented only by his absolute control.
No matter how convincing or perfect his disguise, the vast gulf between their levels of existence meant he could never father a child with a mortal woman through natural means.
Regardless of how he controlled his power, his cells could not interact with those of a human on equal terms; the result would always be a one-sided absorption.
Thus, even if he were to deliberately suppress his power to create life, the offspring would be purely his own creation, devoid of any genetic link to Mitsuri—much like his daughters.
Yeruashi wasn't willing to go to such lengths for the sake of a facade, but he couldn't find a way to explain this to Mitsuri without breaking character. And so, the current situation remained.
"Thank you... thank you so much... please, take this for the treatment..." the wounded man rasped, reaching toward a bag resting beside him.
"Hey, don't move!" Mitsuri exclaimed urgently. "Your injury is severe. We've just finished the stitches, but we haven't even bandaged it yet!" She quickly assisted Yeruashi in dressing the surgical site.
Once the task was complete and the patient began to feel a bit better, he ignored Mitsuri's stern warnings and sat up on the edge of the bed.
An ordinary person wouldn't have been able to budge for days after such an injury, suggesting this man possessed an incredibly hardy constitution.
"Thank you again, doctor..." he muttered, reaching for the bag once more.
"Don't be in such a hurry," Yeruashi said, shaking his head. "You might be strong enough to sit up, but if you want to be able to walk even a short distance, you'll need to stay in bed for at least a few days."
"Oh, forget it. This is just a scratch to me," the man dismissed with a wave of his hand. He pulled out a thick stack of bills without even bothering to count them and attempted to stand.
But before he could take more than two steps, a wave of intense weakness washed over him, and he slumped directly onto the floor beside the bed.
The outcome was no surprise to Yeruashi.
Mitsuri quickly stepped in, gently lifting the patient and guiding him back onto the bed.
"You see? You have to listen to the doctor!" she chided, wagging a finger at him.
"But... but..." The man sighed helplessly and forced a wry smile, realizing that even if he wanted to, he wasn't going anywhere.
"Enough with the 'buts.' Just get some proper rest. You can leave as soon as you're feeling better; nobody's keeping you here against your will," Mitsuri added firmly.
The man looked conflicted and let out another helpless sigh, finally ceasing his overt attempts to resist.
Meanwhile, Yeruashi stepped out of the ward.
"Why is he being so stubborn? With an injury that bad, he's only hurting himself..." Mitsuri whispered, grabbing the cases and catching up to her husband.
"He probably has his reasons," Yeruashi dismissed casually. "You saw the wound yourself; it was a sword strike. He likely wanted to hide from his pursuers. But regardless of what's happening... trouble is forbidden in my clinic. Strictly forbidden."
"Mhm, mhm! Strictly forbidden!" Mitsuri chirped in agreement.
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