Chapter 20
*
Limbus Pit is the imperial capital’s asshole.
The metaphor is a bit disgusting, but nothing else felt quite as fitting.
Everything people don’t want to deal with up top rolls down here.
For example, people want to slice and eat meat; they don’t want a blood-scented slaughterhouse next door.
As a result, slaughterhouses moved down to Limbus Pit and became one of its major industries.
Factories, casinos, mercenaries, and so on.
Businesses with demand but nowhere to go trickled down into Limbus Pit one after another.
Eight businesses had settled in Limbus Pit.
The darkness that had originally been in Limbus Pit clung to them.
When the slaughterhouses moved in, prostitution followed,
when the factories moved in, smuggling followed,
and when the casinos moved in, loan-sharking followed.
The bright side and the dark side.
What those two together formed was Limbus Pit’s bread and butter.
’And if I remember right, H Sector’s bread and butter was….’
I recalled what I had heard during my homeroom tutor’s history lesson.
H Sector began with prisons and execution grounds.
And its bread and butter was ’human trafficking’ that fed off them.
Condemned criminals were going to die anyway.
At some point in the past, someone must have wanted to make efficient use of that poorly utilized resource.
An arena pitting the doomed against one another, a laundromat selling the identities of the dead.
That evolved into the giant human market it is now, where kidnappings and slave trading run rampant.
’And when other nobles want slaves, they usually go to H Sector.’
And that H Sector has recently been crossing over into D Sector.
It was obvious they weren’t here for anything good.
’Good. Let’s run.’
Once I made up my mind, I moved fast.
I followed Boss’s advice and started packing right away.
I may be the protagonist, but that doesn’t mean I’m the type of character who likes making trouble for everyone else just to get my own moment.
If me being here is just going to get in Boss’s way, then I should get out of the way.
Besides, these days it’s trendy for protagonists to be reasonable, or so I’ve heard.
And I was a reasonable human being too, so I prepared to head back up without hesitation.
While I was packing, Eri asked with a displeased look on her face.
“But aren’t you scared, Teacher?”
“Of what?”
“The H Sector guys are coming up, aren’t they?”
At Erica’s reaction, the corners of my mouth slowly lifted.
“You eat with the D-sector boss, and you’re scared of H Sector?”
All turf was decided by rank.
The strongest organization claimed the magic-engineering manufacturers in A Sector, and the next strongest claimed the adventurer industry in B Sector.
And here, what Boss had seized was the slaughterhouses of D Sector.
In other words, Boss was basically fourth place.
By contrast, H Sector was dead last.
Naturally, they didn’t seem like opponents Boss would lose to.
Even now, I wasn’t packing because I was afraid of H Sector.
I was just trying not to make things unnecessarily troublesome for Boss.
So I calmly told her exactly how I felt.
“If mice showed up and the landlord said he was cleaning the house, would a guest really clear out the room just because they were scared of mice?”
“Ah, right. A born noble really is different. Even now you’re bringing up etiquette in a situation like this.”
Erica let out a dry laugh.
“Still, be careful. If they bite you, you might not die, but you’ll definitely suffer.”
“Why? Are they that strong?”
“No? I just mean they’re insane, so it’ll be a pain. They bite anyone. That’s why they’re annoying.”
They’re insane, so it’ll be painful?
Eri’s evaluation was different from what I had expected, so I leaned in to listen to her explanation.
“What do you mean they don’t discriminate between people? Can you be more specific?”
“Huh? What exactly do you want to know?”
“Why don’t the H Sector members discriminate between people? Is that because of their boss’s policy?”
“Aha.”
At my words, Erica slowly nodded.
And then,
“You really had no idea because you’re from the upper district, huh. There’s no boss in H Sector.”
“?”
That was an abrupt answer.
But one second later, I understood immediately.
“H Sector doesn’t have someone like Boss.”
“Exactly. The other sectors each have one big organization firmly in control, right? Like Boss. Someone you shouldn’t touch, an area you shouldn’t enter. That kind of line. But H Sector doesn’t have any of that. It’s just the little groups biting each other to death.”
No boss meant no control, and no control meant there was no one to draw the line.
And on top of that, I could also see why H Sector didn’t have a boss.
’Because it’s human trafficking.’
This is a fantasy world.
If the guy you sold off comes back stronger later, your organization gets wiped out.
If you trade in a few thousand people, there’s bound to be at least one future Sword Saint mixed in there.
Naturally, no organization could survive five years without getting its revenge, so a large-scale human-trafficking organization probably couldn’t exist.
“I get it, Eri. So there’s no boss over there, which means there’s no negotiating with them either.”
After hearing my summary, Eri nodded.
“Right. There are a lot of people over there who live only for today. What sort of boundaries would they have?”
“They’d probably think it’s enough to bite and run.”
“Exactly.”
After all, smaller organizations with no sense of their place are sometimes even more exhausting than the big ones.
Having finished her brief explanation, Eri summarized everything up to that point.
“It hurts if they bite you, you gain nothing even if you block them, and there isn’t even a representative to negotiate with. It’s not like Boss and the other sector bosses hate H Sector for no reason. Now do you see why people are scared of them?”
That seems likely.
Usually, the guy who spits is less scary than the guy who drools.
And H Sector was just a collection of small and mid-sized groups that went around spitting everywhere without thinking about what came next.
“So? Changed your mind?”
“….”
“Then let’s hurry up and go back up, Teacher. If they bite us, we’re the only ones who’ll suffer.”
Erica hurriedly started packing as her face twisted in disgust.
By contrast, my hands had become much slower than they were before I learned that fact.
’Uh… um….’
Now that I’d heard the explanation, I had a hunch that this wasn’t someone else’s problem—it was my event.
*
After packing everything.
I picked up my bag and grabbed the doorknob.
“Let’s go. If we delay any longer, Boss will be clinging to us while crying.”
I had already told Otto, our driver and escort, to go fetch the car.
By now, he should be coming from the boundary between Civitas Square and the red-light district.
“Teacher. We were supposed to meet the driver at the entrance, right?”
Eri.
Mr. Otto is still a young man.
Calling him ‘mister’ might wound him. He isn’t even married yet.
Men get surprisingly sensitive about their age once they’re approaching thirty.
I wanted to say all that, but I held back because I had a character to maintain.
“Let’s hurry.”
Eri took the lead and opened the door.
The next instant.
Thud.
Something toppled through the crack of the door.
A young man collapsed, striking his head against the floor.
A pool of red began spreading from his head.
“Mr. Otto?!”
Eri turned Otto’s face over and gasped in horror.
Someone had carefully split the corners of his mouth all the way up to beneath his ears, then stitched them shut with thick fishing line to lock him into a smiling expression.
“Why is this guy…?”
Otto wasn’t a Rank 1, but he was strong enough to be right on its heels.
That meant in this district, only Boss could take him on.
For someone like that to be reduced to such a pitiful state, it made sense that Eri would be shocked.
As if trying to say something, incomprehensible sounds leaked from his open mouth.
“Uuuh….”
His tongue had been sewn shut too, so the sound leaked out in the form of a groan, never fully becoming words.
Looking at Otto’s forehead, I saw letters carved by a blade and bleeding.
[Einladung]
Eri’s face hardened at the sight of the word.
“Hmm… Ein… uh… Ein (inside)? What word is that?”
“….”
“What? Why! Why are you looking at me like that!”
Correction.
Though Erica didn’t know the exact meaning of the invitation, she had sensed the grave atmosphere and gone pale.
I ignored Eri’s grumbling and examined Otto’s wounds.
’Now I see why they don’t want anything to do with H Sector.’
To do something like this to a person’s face.
I had never met them before, but at the very least it was clear they weren’t the type you could talk to.
“Kgh… uh….”
Even in pain, Otto was desperately trying to say something to me.
With his tongue sewn shut, I couldn’t make out the words.
But it was clear he was begging to be saved.
“I’ll make this easier for you right away.”
I took scissors out of my medical bag and approached him.
First, I needed to cut the thread binding his tongue.
Snip.
Then Eri roughly grabbed my arm.
“Teacher, I think it’d be better to leave him alone.”
She was sending me a warning with eyes full of fear.
“Teacher. We can’t treat Mr. Otto or take him with us right now. The best option is for us to get out first.”
She was right.
The moment I saw Otto’s condition, I could tell what they were after.
Logically speaking, in a situation like this, we should abandon Otto and head back up.
No one would call that choice heartless.
He was my escort before he was my driver, and if it was for my safety, being abandoned was Otto’s role.
And that’s why he was getting paid that much in the first place.
“I suppose so.”
“You understand fast. Then let’s head up right now. We’ll be safe as soon as we walk as far as Civitas Square.”
Eri’s judgment was cold. Logical, like someone who had survived this district.
Any sensible person would run without even looking back.
But I couldn’t take my eyes off Otto’s stitched lips and the message on his forehead.
“Teacher?”
“….”
My feet wouldn’t move.
A doctor’s pride?
That too existed.
But what worried me even more was the fact that I was the protagonist of one of those misunderstanding stories.
’It doesn’t seem like I’d be able to run even if I tried.’
The protagonist always wins in the end.
But the word ‘wins’ comes with the premise that they’ll inevitably get dragged into the incident.
No, wait, had I already gotten dragged in?
After considering those two things, I decided escaping was impossible.
Once I made up my mind, I moved fast.
Ignoring Eri’s chattering beside me, I turned toward the treatment room.
“Eri. Put down the bag and lock the back door.”
“No, wait… Teacher! Have you lost your mind? Those guys are right outside!”
“So?”
I pointed the beak of my raven mask at Eri.
“He’s my patient. And he’s a member of our house.”
“And above all, I’m the protagonist.”
“….”
“Thirty minutes will be enough.”
“Haa….”
Eri let out a resigned sigh and moved into action.
Seeing her react like that makes me feel bad.
I know it’s fine for me because I’m the protagonist, but for Eri, this is reality.
’I’m sorry, so I’d better show her something cool.’
If nothing else, I’ll show her the kind of fantastic surgery that captivated medical students.
I headed for the safe on one side of the wall.
Rattle. Click.
Deep inside the safe, I carefully took out a brown ampoule wrapped in a velvet case.
The label read [Erythroxylum Coca].
I still hadn’t been able to make lidocaine, so this was the local anesthetic I was using as a substitute.
For reference, it means cocaine in Latin.
Why? Latin sounds cool.
’IV anesthesia is a little risky, so I should go with local application.’
The oral mucosa and open wounds absorb cocaine very well.
There was no need to inject it; just soaking the area would be enough.
It also causes vasoconstriction, so I can expect a hemostatic effect too.
It would be the perfect drug if not for the addiction.
“Now, please don’t move. You can sleep if you want.”
If he could sleep, that is.
While waiting for the anesthetic to take effect, I examined the wound.
'From both corners of the mouth to just in front of each ear. About seven centimeters on each side.'
The H Sector bastards’ fishing line was thick and rough.
It was less a suture than just tying him up.
Tsk. If you’re going to make art, at least do it cleanly.
’The tissue necrosis isn’t severe. I should be able to reconstruct it right away.’
After setting the surgical plan, I unfolded the worn leather case.
Silverwork razor blades.
Dwarven watchmaker forceps.
Fishing hooks sorted by size.
I set up the surgical tools and dipped my hands in limewater before pulling them out.
“Don’t move your tongue. I’ll cut the fishing lines first.”
Instead of answering, Otto’s fingers twitched faintly.
I cut the fishing lines one by one.
Every time a line came loose, the wound gaped open, and I stopped the bleeding right away.
I also removed the threads sewn into his tongue.
“Take one deep breath.”
Freed from the stitches, Otto drew in a deep breath.
“Now breathe through your nose.”
Next was debridement.
The necrosis wasn’t severe, but there was still contaminated tissue.
I cut away all of it.
’Next is suturing and reconstruction.’
The wound was at the corner of the mouth, a place that moves constantly.
If I just stitched it up, contracture would set in later.
The scar would shrink and he’d no longer be able to open his mouth properly.
’I’ll have to go with Z-plasty.’
Z-plasty.
It’s a technique where you deliberately cut a straight wound into a Z shape, then suture it again.
By dispersing the direction of tension, it helps prevent contracture, and it also has the bonus effect of reducing scarring.
’There’s not enough skin. I’ll have to pull some from behind the ear.’
The skin behind the ear can also hide scars under hair, and there’s some extra slack there, so it’s a suitable donor site.
I couldn’t anesthetize the skin behind the ear with gauze, so I used an injection.
Using the dwarf watchmaker’s forceps to pick out tiny blood vessels, I peeled the skin away with a silverwork razor blade.
I laid the detached skin over the defect and stitched the muscle layer with catgut thread—a dissolvable thread made from goat intestines—using fishing hooks.
I kept at it for a few minutes.
“Done.”
After washing my hands once more, I checked the clock.
29 minutes.
One minute faster than expected.
A thoroughly unsatisfactory result.
’Tsk. It still takes this long.’
Back when I was an adult in my previous life, this would have taken 15 minutes.
With a resident who matched my rhythm well, it took 12.
I guess my hands are still slow because they’re still small, and the equipment here is also worse than what I had in my previous life.
’I still have a long way to go.’
Self-reflection ends here.
I looked toward Eri.
She had forgotten to keep watch and was staring blankly this way.
“…How can you tie a thread that fast… What were you before, Teacher?”
“A doctor.”
Erica has a good eye.
A lot of people think the life of a surgeon is about steady hands, but the real endgame is skill with thread.
And in my previous life, my thread-handling skills got me plenty of offers from all over.
…But why did I have to choose trauma surgery, of all things? Damn it.
Enough bragging.
I returned to reality thanks to Erica’s voice.
“No, that’s not what I was asking… are you really sure you have nothing to do with the duke’s house?”
“I’ve never even been near it.”
“Tsk….”
Eri looked at me with suspicious eyes.
“You’re not just winging it, are you?”
“Do I look like that kind of person?”
“You didn’t even use a ruler or anything, you just sliced right through.”
“There’s a method to it.”
There are grooves carved into my forceps and clamps at 0.5-centimeter intervals.
It was a small custom job to save time measuring with a ruler each time.
In my previous life, I’d wanted this kind of customization too, but the hospital wouldn’t approve it because it was too expensive.
It might also have been because I wasn’t senior enough yet.
But in this world, I had money and there was no such thing as seniority, so I could afford this customization.
Money really is the best.
“But is it really okay to just keep talking like this? You wanted to run away just a minute ago.”
“Ah, right!”
Eri hurriedly picked up the luggage again.
By contrast, I calmly prescribed medication for the patient and guided him to the back door.
“This is a narcotic, so only take it when it hurts. As long as you don’t take it more than three times a day, you won’t get addicted. Now please take this and go to Boss.”
Otto shook his head.
Though he still couldn’t speak properly, the look in his eyes was firm.
He probably meant that he couldn’t leave the young master behind.
“Honestly, in your current state, you’re nothing but dead weight.”
But that wasn’t what he needed to do right now.
“Go out the back door and bring Boss here. That’s the best you can do right now.”
“…”,
In the end, Otto nodded.
After I opened the back door for him, he staggered off toward Boss’s slaughterhouse.
“Teacher! What are you doing!”
“I’ll be waiting, Mr. Otto.”
“Teacher!”
After seeing the patient off, I turned back to Eri.
“Eri, don’t rush me.”
“How am I supposed to not rush you when my life is on the line!”
“But what changes if you rush? We can’t go up anyway from the moment Otto got hit.”
“….”
“More importantly, we’re already too late.”
Even if the pursuer stopped to eat, thirty minutes would have been enough time to surround us.
Bang!
And to prove my point, the front door was smashed inward.
See? I told you.
This is my event.