Then I'll Perform Surgery for You to See

What's wrong with using my diagrams?

Is borrowing diagrams not stealing? Or is it outright robbery?

Gret opened his mouth, deciding not to argue with Bishop. He continued to yell at Knight Balen:

"Besides, even if I cut it open, what would I use to pull your muscles? My hands?!"

"...Why can't you use your hands?"

Gret was speechless with anger. He plopped back down, took a few deep breaths, and couldn't help but question his life. Has my ability to educate patients regressed? In my past life, explaining it to this extent, anyone would have understood!

And the bald Bishop clearly understood... why are these Knights still...?

Never mind, the comprehension of these brutes shouldn't be compared to spellcasters. How should I explain it... Perhaps a live demonstration...

Good idea!

Gret's eyes lit up. He composed himself, calmly stood up, and smiled at Knight Balen:

"How about this, I'll find a pig's leg—or a lamb's leg—and cut it on the spot, and you'll know how to perform the treatment. Bishop, can you wait for me for a moment?"

"Where are you going to find a pig's leg this late?" the bald Bishop frowned deeply. He thought for a moment, then took charge, grabbing Gret and walking away: "Never mind, come with me!"

"--Wait! My scalpel! The knife!"

The bald Bishop strode ahead. Gret was dragged along by one hand, stumbling and gasping for breath. The surgical instruments he carried in his other hand swung wildly, until finally, Knight Flynn couldn't stand it any longer. He stepped forward and took the surgical case.

Gret followed behind Bishop, walking into brighter and more lively surroundings. As they walked, they saw a brightly lit, smoky establishment ahead—a tavern filled with dozens of men shouting and laughing. The bald Bishop barged in and immediately yelled:

"Old man, do you have any pig's legs?"

"Half a leg left!" came a distant reply from the back of the counter. "Should I roast it for you?"

"Raw!--Take me to the kitchen!"

Bishop answered loudly. He walked straight through the crowd, followed closely by the three Knights. The men drinking and chatting in the bar parted like the Red Sea, as if parted by Moses. Gret, a mere boy, was caught in the middle and managed to slip in without being blocked from the kitchen door.

The kitchen was in chaos. One head chef and three or four assistants bustled about, as if each had a speed aura under their feet. The bald Bishop went straight to the meat counter upon entering, grabbed a pig's leg, looked at it, and turned to Gret:

"Can this be used?"

"--Put down my leg!"

A roar came from the other side. The chef lunged forward with a cleaver, stopping just in time: "B-Bishop!"

Bishop nodded casually, still looking at Gret. Gret craned his neck to examine the pig's leg and found that the joints at both ends of the large bone had already been cut off, so he immediately shook his head. Bishop immediately put down the pig's leg:

"Do you have any lamb's legs?"

"No..."

Bishop frowned. The chef peeked, then snatched the pig's leg and dashed away, as if afraid it would be snatched away a second later. Bishop ignored him, pondered for a moment, and asked Gret:

"Will a live one do?"

"I guess..."

Gret answered instinctively before he could even react. Bishop nodded, got up, and left. A moment later, to Gret's shocked gaze, he returned carrying a bleating live sheep and threw it directly onto the meat counter: "Can this be used?"

Bishop!

You're actually catching one live!

Gret stared, dumbfounded. Seeing Gret's silence, Bishop coughed and asked again: "Can this be used?"

"Yes, yes!" Gret snapped back to reality and quickly replied, "It's just..."

"It's just what?"

Gret stretched out his hand. The live sheep startled and pawed the ground, nearly kicking his hand. He quickly retracted it and, turning his head, gestured to Bishop.

That's the problem. If you bring a live animal and don't stun it, how can I perform surgery? --Stunning is also a form of anesthesia!

Bishop laughed heartily. He bowed his head in prayer, then snapped his fingers. Instantly, streaks of white light, like arrows and spears, bound the live sheep to the cutting board. The sheep's four legs flailed upwards, kicking twice in panic, but though its nose twitched, it couldn't even let out a whimper.

Ah... performing surgery will be comfortable now... Gret sighed happily, stood firmly before the meat counter, and looked around:

"Uncle Flynn, please hand me the box. Uncle Ciro, you can see more clearly from the left, no need to stand on tiptoe like that... Bishop, it's a bit dark here, could you please cast an Illumination Spell?"

At this point, the bar owner also slipped in, peering curiously with the chef at Bishop and the sheep he had brought in. To their surprise, Bishop was merely standing to the side, while Gret stood steadily at the counter, opened the wooden box, and picked up the scalpel.

The moment the scalpel was in his hand, Gret exuded an aura of unquestionable authority, just like during the hundreds of surgeries he had performed in his past life and when teaching interns. While working deftly, he commanded:

"Now, before the treatment, we need to shave the surrounding fur clean. --Lord Balen, don't laugh. When the time comes to shave, you'd best find a knife and scrape yourself first. --Then, we'll cut the skin, not too deep..."

As he spoke, the tip of the scalpel had already entered the sheep's leg skin, lightly drawing a line. The skin split open at the touch of the blade, and the blood beneath seemed to pause as if stunned, before a thin line of crimson seeped out.

"Wow..."

A low murmur of amazement rose from the kitchen. The owner who had come to watch the excitement, and the assistants helping the chef, all gaped, watching Bishop follow every command, tying the sheep when told and casting illumination spells when asked. The owner even nudged the chef:

"Hey, who is this young man?"

"Be quiet!"

The chef retorted without thinking. He stared intently at the scalpel dancing in Gret's hand:

"That knife work is beautiful... Cutting down with one stroke, injuring only the skin and not the flesh, with hardly any bleeding. Beautiful!"

Gret himself wasn't too satisfied. To be honest, he was more familiar with human skin. With one cut, he could definitely slice through just the skin without damaging the fascia underneath. In his past life, he had dissected mice and rabbits, but he hadn't really dissected sheep much. Gret looked at the bloodstains on the scalpel and sighed softly:

"This blade isn't sharp enough... Lord Balen, if the blade were a bit sharper, the bleeding would have been cut in half when I sliced your wrist..."

"I'll go find a blade!" Knight Balen responded. Gret sighed:

"Not just any blade will do, it needs to be the shape I want... Next, pull the skin to both sides, this will minimize damage. Bishop, could you please pull the retractor!"

At his command, the bald Bishop obediently took the retractor and pulled back. Gret spared half an eye on the retractor while his hands didn't stop:

"Pull back, pull back, a little more force... Good, just like that, hold steady!"

The chef and the bar owner watched, dumbfounded. The bald Bishop, without a word, was diligently pulling the retractor...

Today is another chapter that was urgently revised... Every time I revise, one chapter becomes two, and two chapters become three.