Chapter 7 : Surgery (3)
Chapter 7 : Surgery (3)
Deltain was a renowned doctor before falling into this world.
It wasn't just 'renowned'. He was a star in academia who had achieved absurd feats that would shock anyone who had set foot in the medical field. He was the elite of the elite, if one were to describe him as such.
It would take a very long time to explain the journey he took to reach such a position.
Born an orphan, adopted in the faraway land of America, abandoned even there, growing up eating trash off the street, getting into medical school through sheer spite, finishing the university curriculum faster than anyone else, breaking every record in the medical field until then, and becoming a star through skill alone—if one were to say it would take all night to tell the whole story, would that explain it?
The journey of an Asian orphan becoming a star in the American medical field was indeed that long.
...Anyway, that wasn't the important thing right now.
The one important thing in this story is that such a growth process made Deltain a person obsessed with perfectionism.
He didn't feign humility. It was because he loved the achievements he had built too much.
He didn't assume 'what ifs'. Because as a doctor, he was always a successful person.
Also, he didn't discuss failure. Because for him, facing a patient, words of certainty were enough.
"Starting."
So, this time too, Deltain stood before the operating table, showing only certainty as he always did.
Agnes was lying on the surgical bed made for today.
Her wide-open eyes were fixed on Deltain.
"Are you going to cut my chest open like this?"
"After putting you to sleep."
"Sleep?"
"I'm going to put you to sleep with anesthesia. I'll put even your nerves to sleep so your body won't even perceive what's happening."
"I don't know what you mean."
"No need to know."
Deltain said that and loosened his hands.
"Just sleep and when you wake up, you'll be able to walk. That's all you need to know."
"You said you'd cut my chest. Will there be a scar?"
"It won't. I'm going to do it in a way that won't."
Deltain answered Agnes's questions faithfully while maintaining his focus.
'Good.'
It was the perfect state. Moderate fatigue and tension. The familiar surgical bed and the room's temperature, humidity, and noise, which he had changed in advance for today. And even the faint smell of antiseptic.
It could be called a kind of jinx.
Deltain had put quite a lot of effort into recreating what he felt when entering surgery back on Earth.
A smile played on Deltain's lips.
'I'm the only surgical staff.'
There was no anesthesiologist, no resident, and no nurse to assist, but it was fine.
Magic had provided him with the best assistant, one with no risk of failure.
<Accessing Cartridge.>
A black pit rose up with mana.
With fluid hand movements, Deltain opened the pit and pulled out a machine that was nothing short of bizarre.
<No. 6 Armed: Summoning Surgery Supporter.>
The machine he pulled out was in the shape of a crescent moon about 5 meters long, with thin mechanical arms extending infinitely from it.
At the end of each arm hung various surgical tools, including needles, knives, and forceps.
Need I say more? The sprouted arms were bundles of magical tools applied with at least 3rd-tier magic.
Clearly a form of medical tool. But there was a reason this was an 'Armed' [item].
It was because this was a tool Deltain had made to catch and dissect demons alive while the main story was in full swing.
'I didn't know I'd use it like this, though....'
Ironically, the 'Surgery Supporter' was being used for medical purposes for the first time in 4 years since its creation.
"Wow, gross."
"These are the arms that will save your life. Look at them with gratitude."
"Are those going to rummage through my body?"
"It's not rummaging, it's treatment."
"I feel like this is what they call gang rape."
Deltain let out a dry laugh at Agnes's words.
He didn't show any reaction beyond that.
He judged that, regardless of what it was, Agnes would have an instinctive aversion as she lived in a world without the concept of surgery.
"What color do you like?"
"Red and gold. Your hair and eye color."
"...Right, well anyway, from now on, picture those colors in your head in the form of a dress and shoes. It's the dress you'll wear to the banquet."
"Ew, it's too bright, I don't like it."
"What do you want me to do, you damn bitch."
"I'll imagine you wearing that dress. I think that would be better."
"Do whatever. Just."
Deltain clicked his tongue and moved the Supporter.
An oxygen mask was placed over Agnes's face.
Agnes smiled and said. There was no fear in it.
"See you later."
Deltain answered nonchalantly.
"Yeah."
With the answer, a needle was inserted into Agnes's arm.
<Starting anesthesia.>
*
Deltain began to move once he confirmed that the anesthesia was complete.
3 hours.
That was the time Deltain had estimated for this surgery.
It was an absurdly short time for a surgery involving the insertion of a pacemaker, but Deltain had counted even that as the maximum time.
It was obvious.
<Using Space Cutter.>
What he would use for the surgery was a miracle by the name of magic.
The scalpel moved under Deltain's command. It headed below Agnes's chest.
The blade touched the bare skin, and the phenomenon that followed was bizarre.
Even as it split open to reveal the inside of her body, not a single drop of blood came out.
Not only did no blood come out, but even though the sternum and muscles were all split, they appeared as if they were still attached to each other.
The reason was that it hadn't been physically cut.
Space Cutter is a magic that creates a new space between the areas to be cut to reveal the inside of the body. In other words, it was correct to say that the parts currently cut were not actually cut.
This was it.
The reason Deltain told Agnes that not a single scar would remain.
The things that followed were also in the realm of magic.
Some of the mechanical arms burrowed into Agnes's chest. Beep. Beep. The sounds began to ring out. Then, several interfaces appeared before Deltain's eyes.
Deltain's gaze turned to the interface in the very center.
There, Agnes's heart was beating with a pathetic thud.
'Really pathetic.'
Well, it was only natural since both ventricles, not just one, were showing signs of dysfunction.
Deltain went over the surgical procedure once more.
'Bypass the blood circulation of both ventricles.'
The magical tool would beat vigorously instead of the weak heart and regulate the blood flow. He had also embedded more than enough imprints related to homeostasis, and there was even insurance for 'what ifs', so if he just finished the insertion, he could consider the subsequent work a guaranteed success.
Deltain took a deep breath.
He had a history of repeating such surgeries 17 times, but this was his first magical attempt. It was an act to keep his mind together due to the tension that followed.
'I've practiced enough.'
Both the practice of surgery using Imagination magic and its success rate were figures Deltain could be satisfied with.
All that remained was to reap the fruits.
Deltain reached out his hand.
His mind, focused by tension, repeated a single process infinitely.
Thus, he controlled the trembling of his fingertips.
<Summoning Heart Supporter.>
The 8th masterpiece Deltain had created since coming to this world floated in the air.
A miracle that didn't even exist on Earth, with all auxiliary functions packed into imprints for convenience and simplification.
'Please do a good job.'
No matter how rational Deltain was, he was merely human on the operating table, so he prayed briefly to the tool he had created and entered the surgery.
*
The surgical tools moved according to the familiar tension.
Thus, he reshaped Agnes's heart anew.
<Regulating blood flow.>
<Blood pressure remains at a stable level.>
<Starting additional anesthesia.>
·
·
·
<Stabilizing heartbeat.>
The interface was faithfully assisting the surgical process.
Deltain continued the surgery while checking every single one of those things.
And.
<Inserting Heart Supporter.>
Finally, the miracle called a masterpiece began to assist Agnes's heart.
<Heart Supporter is operating.>
<Scanning Agnes Levadein's heart.>
<Starting calibration.>
<1%... 5%... 19%...>
Deltain checked Agnes's vitals, which were changing in the process, one by one as the figures rose.
<33%... 55%... 71%...>
And thus, he finally smiled.
'Perfect.'
<...100%.>
<Heart Supporter is perfectly seated.>
A tingling sensation ran down his spine at the alarm that popped up.
There was laughter that burst out on its own.
Even in such exhaustion, a pleasure that pickled his brain welled up.
Deltain wiped his face, then continued in a voice that had lost some of its tension. It was the end of the surgery.
"Start suturing."
<Surgery Supporter enters autonomous mode.>
<Restoring incision area.>
Sss-ss.
With a strange sound, the chest that had been opened began to close.
The opened space was shrinking again.
The closed chest was clean, as if it had never been opened in the first place.
Deltain exhaled a breath at that and moved his mana.
<2nd-tier magic: Activating Fly.>
Agnes's body floated up and began to fly slowly onto the bed.
And he laid her down comfortably, as if not to put even the slightest burden on her body.
<Surgery Supporter is unsummoned.>
A pitch-black pit swallowed the Surgery Supporter.
After doing that, Deltain went and sat by the bed and began to write letters with mana on Agnes's left arm.
It was an alarm magic that would report her body condition to Deltain for the next few days.
'Sequelae or complications....'
There would be a high probability of none, but he had to think of 'what ifs'.
The heart had a side like a finicky little girl, so he couldn't guarantee what reaction it would show to this change.
"That's it."
Deltain said that and walked out of the room, staggering.
In front of the door was Duke Levadein.
As soon as Deltain came out, he grabbed his arm with a face that had withered in just a few hours. Considering that he was not a person who would normally commit such rudeness, one could also tell how anxious his heart must have been.
"How did it go? That surgery...!"
"It's a success. Perfectly."
"Ah...!"
"We need to watch for sequelae for a few more days. So please give me a cot. I plan to sleep in that room for a few days to monitor progress."
"When you say sequelae...."
"The probability will be low. About the same probability as the Emperor going out in front of the Imperial Palace gate tomorrow, stark naked, and jerking off."
Duke Levadein's body flinched. A rather subtle expression hung over his face.
Deltain smacked his lips.
'Doesn't fit the sensibilities here.'
He had said it because he remembered that when he was on Earth, if he threw such a joke after finishing surgery, the patient's family would be relieved and laugh, but it didn't seem to have a very good effect.
"...Just know that it went well. The Young Lady will open her eyes tomorrow. Since the banquet is in three days... let's practice walking the day after tomorrow."
It was practically an absurd recovery speed, but considering the surgical process, it would be inevitable to accept it.
After all, as it was a surgery that even used 4th-tier space-time magic, wouldn't it be absurd to even consider recovery?
'I wonder why they didn't create surgery with such good technology.'
Truly an uncivilized neighborhood.
While Deltain was thinking that again, the Duke slid down.
"...Huu."
The Duke was squatting on the floor, wiping his face.
It was a clear sign of relief.
"Thank you.... Truly thank you...."
A voice that even had a hint of crying somewhere.
'...Well.'
Could one say that this point is the same as Earth?
Since it had been a while since he heard words of gratitude after successfully completing a surgery, Deltain said with a willing heart.
"That's enough, so just bring me a bed. Save the thanks for after the Young Lady wears the dress."
The shape of the smile that appeared was, needless to say, that of a winner.