Three world-line choices.
First, Branch One could be eliminated outright.
After all, the Takashimaya department store shopping vouchers rewarded by Branch Two were worth far more than that amount.
Takashimaya was a large chain supermarket. Even ten minutes of shopping with a 100,000-yen limit held tremendous appeal for him in his utterly destitute current state.
However…
The reward for “Surgical Incision Suturing” made his mouth water too.
Whether it was abdominal closure, vascular anastomosis, or intradermal cosmetic suturing, it would prove useful—a true jack-of-all-trades skill in every sense of the word.
Kiryu Kazusuke still prioritized skills.
But there was a problem.
If he truly wanted to obtain this reward, given the state of his wallet, he could only hope that “Kagura Club” was actually a ramen shop, and that Imagawa Tadashi was a ramen chef who would call him in to knead noodles.
Furthermore…
Kirschner wire temporary fixation was a step in fracture reduction surgery, usually completed by the lead surgeon or the first assistant. As a second assistant, even getting to hold retractors at the operating table depended on the lead surgeon’s mood.
This Imagawa Tadashi was presumably no big shot either—how could he possibly interfere with surgery at a university hospital?
Kiryu Kazusuke glanced at the clock on the wall.
It was 9:30 in the morning. A place like “Kagura Club” wouldn’t be open for business during the day.
He would have to wait until evening.
Thus, he could only finish the tasks Imagawa Ori had entrusted to him first, then make his plans.
…
In the afternoon, Kiryu Kazusuke organized all the examination reports.
The CT results showed that the articular surface of the distal radius had shattered into multiple bone fragments of varying sizes, like a broken eggshell; the difficulty of reduction was extreme.
The nerve conduction velocity report also showed slight compression of the ulnar nerve. Though not severe, it added extra risk to the surgery.
This was truly a thankless operation.
Do it well, and it was merely expected.
If the postoperative outcome was poor and the patient’s joint function didn’t recover well, it could easily spark a medical dispute.
No wonder Imagawa Ori had been so reluctant.
“I understand.”
She flipped through the reports Kiryu Kazusuke had submitted; after finding no issues, she tossed the file folder onto the desk.
“The surgery is scheduled for tomorrow morning. For today, we’ll wait for the swelling in the patient’s wrist to subside somewhat.”
As she spoke, she took her trench coat from the clothes rack.
“I’m leaving the preoperative consultation and consent form signing to you as well. Explain the risks to the patient and family clearly—especially that joint function may not fully recover—so they can mentally prepare.”
“Also, on the morning of surgery, you’re responsible for transporting the patient to the OR. Remember to have the nurse hang the preoperative antibiotics too.”
Imagawa Ori rattled off all these instructions in one breath, completely denying Kiryu Kazusuke any chance to ask questions.
After finishing, she grabbed her handbag and walked straight toward the office door.
It looked like she was getting off work.
For a lead surgeon, handing all these tedious chores over to a junior doctor was perfectly normal.
Kiryu Kazusuke reorganized the reports and placed them back into the medical chart.
He was getting off work too.
…
By day, Chiyoda-cho was a paradise of shopping and gourmet food.
When night fell and countless neon signs lit up one by one, it would reveal an entirely different face.
Izakayas, karaoke bars, pachinko parlors, and fuzoku shops with suggestive neon signs at their entrances together formed this city’s collective manifestation of desire.
Of course, on a resident’s meager salary, the prices there were unaffordable.
Kiryu Kazusuke took the bus and got off at the nearest stop.
It was 1994; conveniences were far fewer than in later eras. To find a specific address in an unfamiliar city, the most reliable tool was still a paper map.
He searched the map section of a bookstore for quite a while before finding a detailed Maebashi City street atlas.
After paying, he carried the atlas and sat on a roadside bench.
He opened the atlas and slowly moved his finger across it.
Chiyoda-cho was Maebashi City’s liveliest commercial district; the map was densely packed with the names of various shops, restaurants, and entertainment venues.
A moment later.
When Kiryu Kazusuke felt his eyes were about to go blind, he finally found it.
“Kagura Club,” “Night Butterfly,” “Night Knight”…
Clearly, this was an area where fuzoku shops and bars gathered—the so-called pleasure quarter.
Kiryu Kazusuke had a bit of a headache.
Judging by the names and location, there was a ninety-nine percent chance this was a red-light district.
He decided to reserve the remaining one percent of hope for himself, wishing that it really was a ramen shop.
Kiryu Kazusuke folded up the map and stuffed it into his pocket.
At this point, he had to go check it out.
He crossed several streets, turned down a few crowded alleys, and finally stopped in front of a building.
By now, he had completely given up hope.
He could only say that “Surgical Incision Suturing” was destined to pass him by.
Above the entrance of the building before him, a huge sign read “Kagura Club” in elegant cursive.
Beneath the sign were several large posters.
The posters showed several young men of varying styles, all wearing exquisite makeup and striking poses that were either melancholic or passionate.
From time to time, fashionably dressed women would approach and be greeted by smiling doormen who ushered them inside.
There was no doubt—this was definitely not a respectable establishment.
Since that was the case, Kiryu Kazusuke was already thinking up an excuse to skip work tomorrow.
The reward for Branch Two—ten minutes of unlimited shopping at Takashimaya Department Store—was still pretty decent.
However, just as he was about to turn and leave,
a black taxi happened to stop at the entrance of “Kagura Club.”
The car door opened. What emerged first was a long leg clad in black trousers, with a pair of gleaming black leather shoes on its foot.
Then, a person stepped out of the car.
The person wore a tailored black suit with a white shirt open at the top two buttons, and shoulder-length short hair swayed gently in the night breeze.
Even from behind, there was an aloof, ascetic air about them.
When he turned toward the entrance of “Kagura Club,” Kiryu Kazusuke looked twice.
Because the profile of that face seemed somewhat familiar?
As if he had seen it somewhere before.
The man walked to the entrance, where the doorman immediately bowed ninety degrees and respectfully pulled open the door.
“Imagawa-kun, welcome.”
“Mm.”
As he prepared to step inside, he suddenly stopped and said something to the doorman.
Kiryu Kazusuke, who was across the street, couldn’t make out the specifics.
But right at this moment,
that person’s image overlapped perfectly with how Dr. Imagawa Ori had looked that morning when instructing him to go do additional tests.
Could it be?!
The rumors in the doctors’ office about Imagawa Ori were true!
Dr. Imagawa really was working a side job outside—but disguised as a man, coming to a place like this to please those lonely, big-spending women.
Truly a doctor willing to be a slave to money.