No matter how furious he was, the situation was already a fact. More important than stabbing Uzo's Cursed Straw Doll was dealing with the problem at hand.
Vodka briefly considered whether he should make this quick and use his status as an Organization Cadre to chase the doctor to his home and demand that he work overtime for a consultation... After 0.1 seconds, he dismissed the extremely dangerous idea.
"Everyone knows that compared to a public place like a hospital, a private place like someone's home is actually far more dangerous."
Vodka silently recited his Anti-Uzo Manual: "At least when there are lots of people around, Uzo will exercise some restraint—he just likes messing with Murder Cases; it's not like he's a brainless terrorist. In a sense, he actually 'cherishes human lives'... Uh, unless there's a target who attracts him too much. Then that's another matter."
"In short, if I rashly follow him to his house, nobody knows whether there are tons of bombs buried beneath the doctor's floor. Or maybe this doctor is already on the verge of a mental breakdown. He doesn't want to throw in his lot with the Organization, but he's worried he can't escape our clutches, so he plans to go down fighting—pull out a gun and empty the magazine at the innocent Organization member who came to assess him..."
The more Vodka thought about it, the more cold sweat broke out on him. After all, based on his years of experience, among the people the Black Organization wanted to recruit, there had been no shortage of stubborn types with spines too stiff to bend, who were always ready to seek mutual destruction with others.
"I can't act blindly." Vodka finally reached a conclusion. "Luckily, that Doctor doesn't know the assessor's real identity, so he