Irish secretly considered every possibility: ...Maybe Uzo was making fresh arrangements with his subordinates, preparing for his next scheme. Or perhaps he was still brooding over having failed to crush Irish to death this time?
Thinking of that lofty, curly-haired Man in Black being brought low, Irish let out a cold laugh.
But the pain from his injuries, aggravated by the laughter, quickly froze his expression, and his smile gradually vanished. Though Uzo had lost a bit of the fun of murdering an Organization Cadre, the price Irish had paid was all too real.
"The results are in."
A languid Lab Coat walked over, interrupting Irish's exceedingly complicated thoughts.
The Doctor turned his tablet around and showed him the examination results. "Soft tissue damage. Nothing serious for someone like you. Oh, and a slight concussion. You'd better be careful with your movements for the next few days."
This medical institution was actually controlled by the Organization, so naturally, the person examining Irish was also an Organization member.
Though the Doctor before him was fairly skilled, he was not exceptional enough to become a cadre through medical expertise alone. In truth, he was merely a senior Peripheral Member.
However, these foreign Peripheral Members did not seem as cautious around Organization Cadres as those in Tokyo. Their sense of hierarchy appeared much weaker. The Lab Coat asked curiously, "What exactly hit you?"
He pointed at the scan from earlier. "The angle of impact is strange, and it was dangerous too. If it had been just a little off and struck your head directly, you might even have suffered instant death."
As he spoke, the Doctor suddenly came up with a guess himself. "Oh! I get it. Were you bending down to pick something up when a car hit you head-on?"
"..."
He