Pixie (5)

Mosquito forceps, please.

Swoosh-

My hand, guided by the God of the Scalpel, parted the subcutaneous fat layer without the slightest hesitation and opened up the field of view.

The resistance of living flesh at my fingertips came through with horrifying vividness.

"Metzenba... Ah. Yes. That one. Metzenbaum. Yes."

Just as the nurse briefly mixed up the instrument and was about to pick up ordinary scissors, the God of the Scalpel gently corrected her.

If it were the usual Megat bastard, he'd have barked, "Not that one, Metzenbaum!"

Whether he'd finally realized he was borrowing someone else's body, or whether he was always kind to assistants, he was unexpectedly gentle.

Swoosh-

The Metzenbaum scissors handed over to him slid into the subcutaneous tissue, opened it up, and performed blunt dissection perfectly...