Raindrops drummed tirelessly on the canvas roof of the medical tent, a dull thup-thup-thup that never stopped. The air was thick with disinfectant, a hint of blood, and the earthy tang of scorched soil softened by humidity. A single lantern cast a warm, dim glow over the tent's interior.
"Hiss! Ouch! Easy, easy! You're killing the great Sage here!"
The scream that followed was so sharp and dramatic it nearly lifted the entire tent. It was the kind of howl that made you wonder whether you had walked into an infirmary or an execution ground.
Ryo, who had just reached the entrance, paused mid-step. His lips twitched. That voice was unmistakable. Only one loudmouthed idiot in all of Konoha could sound like that. Jiraiya.
"Heh. Sounds lively," Ryo muttered under his breath, pulling back the heavy, blood-and-alcohol-scented curtain with a flick of his wrist.
The light inside was dim but enough to reveal everything, and even for someone like Ryo, who had seen battlefields drenched in gore, the scene made his brow twitch.
In the center bed lay Jiraiya, bare-chested, his usually powerful muscles drawn tight as cables from pain. Veins bulged on his forehead, sweat streaked down his face, his expression twisted like a man being flayed alive.
The cause was clear, a wickedly shaped kunai embedded deep under his right ribs near his lung. The exposed skin around it was a ghastly black-purple, oozing pus and blood that stank of iron and rot.
That was no simple stab wound. The kunai was coated with a venom that ate flesh before the eye. Without the medical team around him, Jiraiya would have been long dead on the road back.
Two young medical-nin hovered over him, drenched in sweat. One held a gleaming scalpel and a compact chakra scalpel, its blade humming faintly, meant for cutting away necrotic tissue while cauterizing the wound. His trembling hands worked inch by inch, carefully trimming the blackened flesh. Each slice drew a fresh scream that could rattle bones.
"AAAGHHHH! I'M GONNA DIE! Kid, don't shake your hand! Aim first! OWWW! MY PRECIOUS RIBS! I think you just poked my kidney!"
Overseeing the operation was Tsunade, arms folded, lazily leaning against the medical cabinet. Her long golden hair was loosely tied back. Her beautiful face carried not the slightest trace of concern. Instead, she was smiling, that serene, dangerous kind of smile that said you asked for this. Her emerald eyes gleamed with amusement and the satisfaction of vengeance well served.
"Steadier, Morino, Chiaki," Tsunade instructed, voice clear and commanding. "This is a routine debridement. Make sure every bit of dead tissue is gone. Leave nothing. Any residue will spread the poison faster. As for the patient's howling," she flicked an unimpressed glance at the convulsing Jiraiya, "treat it as background music."
"Y-Yes, Tsunade-sama!" the two young medics chorused, voices trembling. Their hands were slick with sweat. This was Jiraiya they were cutting, one of Konoha's Legendary Sannin. Normally, Tsunade herself would handle such a case in minutes. But now she was just standing there, watching. Which could mean only one thing, she was furious.
And this was punishment. No anesthetic. No mercy. Pure, clinical revenge.
Ryo's eyes flicked around the tent, then he understood everything in an instant.
Oh, this idiot definitely did something stupid again. And it must have been spectacularly stupid.
Otherwise, Tsunade would have fixed him up in five minutes flat. Now she was letting two rookies slice him open under her supervision, just to let him scream his soul out. A perfect example of using medicine to deliver justice.
Tch. A textbook case of self-inflicted suffering. Even Ryo had to admit, it was a tragic sight, the great Jiraiya of the Sannin, reduced to a squealing hog under the trembling hands of two terrified medics.
"What's this performance called?" Ryo finally asked, stepping inside, his tone calm, cutting through the cacophony of screams.
Tsunade turned her head slightly, emerald eyes bright with mischief, tone almost innocent. "Oh, Ryo, you're back. Nothing serious here. Just this idiot," she nodded toward Jiraiya, "who said he thought he was dying and wanted one last wish before passing on. Something about a goodbye kiss to soothe his fragile little heart."
"Pfft!" One of the medics snorted before hurriedly bowing his head over the wound again.
Between groans, Jiraiya gasped, "I-I said a kiss full of emotion! A kiss of love to drive away death! Tsunade, I—AAAAAAHHHHH!" His voice cracked into a scream as the chakra scalpel brushed a nerve.
Tsunade ignored him. She looked at Ryo and explained in the clinical tone of a professor giving a lecture, "As you can see, this is a classic case of neurotoxic damage, poison invading the bloodstream, impairing the brain's ability to process dignity and self-awareness. Normal treatment can't fix that. So…"
Her smile brightened. "I've devised a special, anesthesia-free deep stimulation therapy. Intense physical stimulus reactivates the nervous system, speeds circulation, and promotes detoxification. And see? It's working beautifully. His sensitivity to pain is excellent. His nerves are quite active."
Ryo: "...."
There were no words. None. Just twitching veins.
Tsunade, this isn't treatment. It's torture dressed up in medical jargon, he thought. Out loud, he managed, deadpan, "Truly… an impressive effort on your part."
"Stop, Tsunade! I'm sorry! I'm really sorry!" Jiraiya suddenly wailed, desperation surging through him. "It's all my fault! I shouldn't have asked you to check my abs while bandaging me! I shouldn't have said the scar looked like the mark of love! Ancestors! Great ancestors! Make them stop! You do it! You cut me instead! Just kill me quick!"
He was sobbing. Whether from regret or pain, no one could tell.
"Hmph." Tsunade gave an elegant snort, not even sparing him a glance. She turned to the petrified medics and raised her chin slightly. "What are you staring at? Continue. If this rattles you, how will you handle real battlefield trauma? Practice is the best teacher, and he's the perfect live specimen. Don't worry, I'll take responsibility if he dies."
Her confidence radiated regal authority.
The two medics visibly relaxed, newfound determination burning in their eyes. If Lady Tsunade was here, nothing could go wrong. Morino inhaled deeply, steadied his hands, and brought the chakra scalpel back down toward the blackened flesh.
A faint shhhk, the sound of burning, and the stench of seared skin filled the air.
"AAAAAHHHHH! TSUNADE, YOU DEVIL WOMAN! PERSONAL VENGEANCE! I'LL HAUNT YOU—AAAHHHHH!" Jiraiya's howl rose another octave, thrashing so violently it took both assistants to pin him down.
Ryo stood there, entirely unsympathetic.
He sighed, finally cutting in, his calm voice slicing through the chaos.
"I'll be heading back to the village for a while."
(To be continued.)
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◇ One bonus chapter will be released for every 200 Power Stones.
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