Orthognathic Surgery
“Th-thank you, Director! Guaranteeing the loan, lending the money, giving us jobs... I’ll never forget this kindness!”
“I’ll work like an ox—no, harder than an ox! Call me White Ox from now on!”
“No need to thank me. It’s a world where we all help each other out.”
As the high-interest loan approval wrapped up at Cache Capital on the second floor of the Beauty Tower, the half-orcs showered me with endless gratitude.
Cute guys. I’m the one who should be thankful.
Seeing the half-orc Jasons now legally and materially my perfect slaves... no, loyal workers, melted away my Friday the 13th trauma like snow in spring.
This is what financial therapy is all about.
“But isn’t the loan paperwork handled by Cache Capital? Is that really the right place to manage it all?”
Once we stepped out of Cache Capital, Jason scratched at his hole-riddled white mask and asked me. The other half-orcs following behind perked up too, thrusting their white masks toward me curiously.
“Jason’s right. Don’t we need to know how much we have to pay back?”
“I agree! We half-orcs all look alike to pureblood humans. Only we can tell each other apart.”
“I’m worried too! We’re getting surgery to make our faces human-like. What if no one can tell us apart after?”
Worried voices leaked from behind the white masks.
Big ambitions. They’ve got to work for the next 30 years... no, till they drop dead, and they’re already thinking about paying it off?
Now, even looking at their hole-pocked masks just made me think they were cute. My sanity was holding steady.
Turning crisis into opportunity—old sayings like that never lie. I flashed them a gentle smile.
“No need to worry. You all stamped your fingerprints during the loan approval at Cache Capital, right?”
“Yeah. George told us to press our thumbs.”
Jason nodded lightly at my question. I naturally headed toward the elevator, continuing.
“Fingertips have sweat glands. They grow upward, forming wavy ridge patterns called fingerprints. Just like faces, everyone’s fingerprints are unique.”
“But we’re half-orcs, not purebloods...”
“Orks or humans, all primates have unique fingerprints regardless of species. Even a half-orc like you, Jason—no problem identifying them.”
Monkeys, chimps, gorillas, orangutans. All primates with palm sweat glands have fingerprints.
Hell, even koalas have them. No way half-orcs don’t. So don’t even think about skipping out on the debt. I’ll squeeze every last copper out of you.
As I explained, the elevator reached the second floor. I pressed the button for the ninth-floor comprehensive health check center and turned to the total of 22 of them.
“Let’s go up in groups of 11 minutes apart. Head up, and Rebecca and Stella—your future coworkers at the Beauty Tower—will be waiting.”
The hospital elevator held 21 people or 1,600kg. But these Jasons were all over two meters tall, built like tanks at 120kg-plus each.
“Got it. You 11 go first. I’ll ride with the Director.”
Eleven half-orcs boarded and headed up. Jason, still curious, turned to me.
“But what about twins? We half-orcs have brothers who are twins. Do twins have the same fingerprints?”
“No, even identical twins with the same looks have different fingerprints.”
Statistically, the odds of two people sharing a single fingerprint are one in 87 billion. Unless they had rare Adermatoglyphia, these half-orcs couldn’t escape me till they paid off every coin.
Repetitive manual labor can wear them down, though. Not completely gone, of course.
Even worn fingerprints mostly regenerate identically. Meaning I could work these Jasons till their prints rubbed off—no worries.
Fingerprints aren’t just epidermal; they persist in the dermis. As long as fingers weren’t severed, the hospital’s scanner could read dermal prints clearly.
But no way half-orcs would grasp that. Needed kid-level explanation.
“Brothers or twins, fingerprints are all different. Even animals like dogs or cats lack fingerprints but have nose prints that serve the same role.”
“Nose prints?”
As Jason echoed, the elevator returned to the second floor and opened. I gestured them inside, continuing.
“Nose prints are the bumpy patterns near the noses of dogs, cats, cows, horses, sheep, etc. Innate and unique, they never change in a lifetime.”
“Ooh, then us half-orc brothers paying back the money—no problem at all!”
Even cloned animals have different nose prints. Jaw surgery changing their looks? Irrelevant to debt collection.
As long as fingers remained, I’d never lose them.
“Alright, we’re here. Today, we’ll do precise health checks on your conditions.”
No one could run.
Not until they paid me back in full.
Today was November 4th, Saturday, by the Ailene calendar. Two weeks since the half-orcs arrived at the Beauty Tower.
And today, we’d start with orthognathic surgery on Jason, their leader.
“Anesthesia complete.”
“Good. Proceeding with surgery. It’s tough, so stay sharp, everyone.”
““Yes!””
Orthognathic surgery meant cutting the upper and lower jaws. So full anesthesia used nasal intubation, not oral.
Healing magic’s impressive. Drastically shortens recovery.
But even with healing magic and witches simulating in the VR OR, orthognathic couldn’t rush.
Pre-op was needed: braces.
Patients seeking double jaw surgery weigh plastic surgery, oral-maxillofacial, orthodontics.
Many pick plastics for aesthetics, but unless you’re a genius like me, oral-maxillofacial’s best.
I don’t recommend orthodontics much—jaw diagnostics often lacking. Many orthodontists avoid surgery due to inexperience, offering half-assed braces only.
Plastics allow simultaneous eye jobs or lipo—great for “reborn before summer break ends!” types.
But dental prep skimped, and unethical hacks do surgery without braces.
I’m a plastic surgeon, but for double jaw, I strongly recommend oral-maxillofacial.
Not all are great, but better for function, fewer no-braces hacks.
Most plastics seekers fear oral-maxillofacial focuses only on function, skimping aesthetics.
But young oral-maxillofacial docs now nail cosmetics too. I’d tell Korean patients: Go oral-maxillofacial for double jaw. Please.
Pre-isekai, if braces undone, I forced ortho first—no matter the cash stacks. Limits sucked, though.
Tsss— tsssss—
Witches cranked the retractor, exposing Jason’s teeth fully. Suction hummed as I slid in the electrosurgical knife.
Zzzzzing—
Horizontal incision on upper gum started the real surgery.
Scalpels usual, but oral tissues vascular—cautery minimizes bleeding.
Tsss— tssss— zzzzzing— zzzzzzzing—
Tip heat seals vessels while cutting, reducing post-op swelling.
Double jaw should legally require braces first. Laws suck, but hacks worst. Tsk.
Media celeb cases make double jaw seem newfangled.
Korea’s been doing it since late ‘70s—over half a century.
Originally for deformity correction; now aesthetics dominate.
Problem: treated like quick eyelid or nose jobs.
Needs 2+ years braces for alignment first. Hacks cut unbraced jaws—duh, side effects galore.
Rage at Earth’s hack butchers boiled as white maxilla emerged inside the incised gum.
Cleaning gum scraps revealed pristine bone.
“Saw.”
“Here.”
“Don’t nick the lip.”
““Yes!””
Stella handed the electric saw. Time to cut.
Krgggggrrrrang—!