Chapter 70. Simon Grade
Ailene Calendar 562, February 18th, Saturday.
Several more weeks had passed since I declared war on the Potion Cooperative and the magic towers. Today was the day the third winner of the story event arrived at the Beauty Tower for surgery.
I was sipping coffee leisurely at the first-floor café, waiting, when Cache approached with a man radiating masculine charm.
"Director, this is today's story event patient."
"It's an honor to be selected for the story event, Baron. I'm Maverick."
"Nice to meet you. Let's head upstairs right away."
The first and second weeks of the story event had focused on treating victims of botched tattoos from the Potion Cooperative's so-called artists—more like hack ink-slingers.
'And the response was explosive.'
The main goal of the story event at the Beauty Tower was to stop those Potion Cooperative tattooists from churning out more victims. But I couldn't openly bash the cooperative week after week. No matter how much it was framed as donating my talents, it would raise suspicions if it was too obvious.
'Even if my words are true, it's better to frame it as contributing to community development through talent donation rather than outright slander.'
So, on the surface, the event targeted people with pains they couldn't share publicly—those unaware such treatments were possible until now, or who knew about us but couldn't afford a visit due to money troubles.
"I've heard your story. Have a seat up front. Stella, wait outside during the consultation."
"Yes, Director."
Once we reached the director's office on the eleventh floor, I guided Maverick to his seat with a gesture.
"Before the main surgery, we'll take photos. As you know, in exchange for free surgery through the story event, we share photos and videos."
"Yes, I'm aware."
Maverick wasn't as massive as Jeff or Ollie, but his broad shoulders and thick beard covering his jaw screamed masculinity.
However...
"Please remove your shirt."
"...Understood."
His body trembled slightly, betraying his nerves, but he soon steeled himself and began peeling off his layers.
"Whew... It's been ages since I've shown my body to another man."
"We'll take photos now. Stand at attention against the wall, shoulders back."
"Yes."
Maverick looked the picture of masculinity on the outside. Even his voice was a deep, rumbling baritone.
But his unspoken anguish, his chest pain—quite literally—belonged to him alone.
Click—Click-click—
His body evoked a bodybuilder: solid, with visible body fat around 9%. Not quite competition-ready at under 5%, but impressive for an average adventurer.
Yet that made the mismatch on his chest stand out even more against his well-maintained physique.
Drooping tissue hung slack over his firm pecs.
"As you can see, it's... quite severe. I trust you, Baron, but can you really make my chest look like a normal man's?"
After photos and video, Maverick dressed hurriedly and asked.
"The official name for your condition is gynecomastia, commonly shortened to gynecomastia or 'man boobs.'"
"Gynecomastia..."
He ground his teeth, repeating the word like it was his mortal enemy's name.
"I can't fathom why this curse struck me. I've never even seen a woman's breasts in my life..."
"It's not common, but back in my world, far more suffered from it than here. It's fully treatable, so no worries. Yours looks like Simon Grade 1."
"Simon... grade? Gynecomastia has stages?"
I nodded lightly at his question.
"Male gynecomastia is classified by the Simon Grading Scale, dividing severity into four stages. The mildest, Grade 1, is when enlargement is confined to the areola."
For Grade 1 gynecomastia, treatment involves local anesthesia to remove fat and glandular tissue from the areola area.
'But Grade 1 patients rarely seek surgery.'
"So... which stage am I? Second? Third maybe?"
"No, the most severe: fourth stage."
"Th-the worst stage!"
Simon Grade 2a (second stage) and 2b (third) exceed the areola but without severe sagging.
"In second stage, no sagging, glands protrude forward—that's when patients start coming in. Third stage shows folding and some droop."
Most patients are Grade 2b (third stage), requiring extensive liposuction, skin contraction, to prevent depressions or sagging.
"Yours isn't just folding; it sags severely like a woman's breast."
"It's... that bad, huh."
"Not dire, just more complex. We'll remove substantial gland and fat, so aggressive skin contraction is needed. Especially for you—expect extreme sagging, so we'll excise excess skin and relocate the areola."
"...Pardon? Relocate the areola?"
His confused expression suggested he thought surgery was just cutting and pulling up the sagging skin.
"It's challenging, but doable. Note that post-op, areola and nipple sensitivity might not fully return."
"That's fine. I want my heart healed more than sensation."
"Got it. Let's start the exam. Follow me."
"Yes, Baron."
Swish—Swish—
Ultrasound first, to map gland and fat distribution for removal planning.
'Muscles are overdeveloped... This won't be easy.'
For severe sagging like his, excision and areola relocation would transform him. But excessive muscle complicated it.
Many gynecomastia patients hit the bench press obsessively, thinking muscle hides it. But even lean bodies retain glandular support tissues that exercise can't touch.
'So you end up like this: fat gone, but glands remain, causing sag.'
Muscular patients like him are trickier. Building muscle tears fibers repeatedly, fibrosing fat tissue.
Surgery combines gland excision and liposuction; fibrosis risks unevenness or bleeding.
"A nurse waits outside. Change into the gown for marking, then return."
"Yes."
Soon, Maverick returned in patient garb.
"Stand straight, chest out. Good."
Swish—Swish—Swish—
Design is crucial in plastic surgery—the blueprint for precision.
"Now to the OR."
"Yes."
After marking, we moved to the operating room with Maverick and waiting Stella. He lay on the table; Stella induced general anesthesia.
"Director, general anesthesia complete."
"You're handling it solo now?"
"Thanks to your teaching."
"Then let's begin."
"Yes!"
Squirt—
First, injected tumescent solution—stopper and painkiller—into the chest.
Push—Push—Psssh—Push—
Using a cannula (blunt-tipped tube with side holes), I swiftly and delicately suctioned fat and glands.
Push—Psssh—Push—
Over-removal risks numbness; deceptively tricky.
Screech—Scrape—Scrape-scrape—
Not just lipo; intermittent excision for most patients.
Scrape-scrape—Scrape—
Remove gradually to avoid depressions; check often. Overdo risks necrosis or hemorrhage.
"Basic gland removal done. Now areola relocation."
Maverick's days of strutting shirtless in summer were near.