Wouldn't That Make It a One-Cut Deal?

"Stop testing them!" he said through gritted teeth, gripping the liquor flask hard with his other hand.

"Use those two knives and clean the wound right now! If you stall any longer, I'll shoot you!"

He revealed the gleaming silver revolver at his waist.

"But..."

"No buts! Get on with the next step!" He slammed the counter, his expression vicious.

"All right."

Lynn adjusted his monocle helplessly.

Then, under the Witcher's gaze, Lynn strode through the curtain into the backyard. Just as the Witcher began wondering what nonsense he was up to this time-

Lynn came back carrying a brazier.

Sss-

He stirred the coals with a knife, then stuck the various tools on the counter into them.

[Witcher's Sanity Value -1]

"What are you doing?" The corners of the Witcher's eyes twitched uncontrollably.

Lynn calmly picked up a red-hot knife. "Sterilizing. Black Butterfly is an extremely potent, corrosive poison. This is to keep any poison from accidentally seeping into your other tissues while I clean the wound."

"The best approach is to destroy it with high heat. It might hurt a tiny bit, admittedly, but the results are outstanding."

Clink-

Lynn tapped the red-hot scalpel, sending sparks flying.

The Witcher's throat went dry. For some reason, a sudden shiver ran through him.

Although what Lynn said did seem to make sense.

When he had been injured in the past, he had often used high heat to cauterize his wounds quickly and prevent infection...

But...

Why did this guy still seem so unreliable?

"Have you ever actually done this before?" he asked hesitantly.

Lynn answered earnestly, "I haven't done it myself, but I've spent two years at my master's side. I've watched him do it!"

The Witcher breathed a sigh of relief.

Lynn added, "Especially when he slaughtered pigs and removed their bristles. One sweep with a red-hot knife, and they all came right off."

The Witcher: "?!!!"

A few minutes later, Lynn pulled the two red-hot knives from the brazier, calmly walked behind the Witcher, and declared firmly:

"I'm starting! This next part might hurt a little, so bear with it."

The Witcher clenched his fists, shut his eyes, and spoke through gritted teeth:

"I can bear it, sure. But I just want to ask-why the fuck have you put so many plates on the counter?"

"Are you cooking?!"

He roared, pointing at the plates on the counter in front of him and the napkin Lynn had tied around his neck.

Anyone who knew what was happening would think he was here for surgery. Anyone who didn't would think he was here for dinner!

Lynn said earnestly, "You're overthinking it, sir. These plates are for the dead flesh I'm about to cut away. I need to calculate how much flesh I remove so I can give you the appropriate dose of Flesh Regeneration Potion."

"If I don't calculate the dosage properly, you could easily grow unnecessary tissue on your shoulder. This is for your own good."

The Witcher ground his teeth audibly.

"Start cutting!!"

If this weren't the only potion shop that also provided medical treatment for hundreds of kilometers around-

He swore he would never have set foot in this damned place.

It felt like a shady racket!

"Okay! Here I go!"

Lynn's expression turned serious.

In an instant-

Shhk-shhk-

Two knives sank into flesh, followed by a continuous sizzling as they sliced and seared.

"Aaaagh-"

The demon hunter (ヾﾉ꒪ཫ꒪)-

It hurt!

It fucking hurt like a motherfucker!

And it wasn't just the pain of being sliced open. There was the pain of being burned, too, with even a faint hint of getting kicked in the balls.

Motherfucker!

The pain even came in layers, like tough meat under a rolling blade!

[Knife Skills EXP +1]

[Knife Skills EXP +1]

[Knife Skills EXP +1]

"If it hurts, there's still time to give you an anesthetic!" Lynn advised earnestly.

At the same time, he wondered why this was increasing his Knife Skills rather than his surgical ability.

"Fuck off!"

The Witcher roared.

"What makes you think I'm in pain? I'm not fucking hurting at all, okay?!"

The Witcher hugged the counter, trembling, his face deathly pale.

Lynn adjusted his monocle while his other hand continued swiftly cutting away dead tissue. He cleared his throat.

"Then please let go of our counter first. And kindly move the fingernails you've dug into its edge. This is premium antique wood. It's expensive."

The Witcher roared, "I'll pay you double! What, I'm not even allowed to grab something?! Cut! Cut as hard as you can! Keep dawdling and I'll chop your hands off!"

Holding both knives, Lynn said earnestly:

"That's exactly what I was waiting to hear. I'll really go all out, then!"

The Witcher shuddered.

"Wait!"

Swish, swish, swish, swish-

The demon hunter (ヾﾉ꒪ཫ꒪)-

"God! God! My God!"

With an expression of (ΩДΩ), he immediately watched slice after slice of blackened, dead flesh, still carrying the aroma of cooked meat, fly neatly onto the plates.

Judging by those fluid knife skills, whether he was shaving noodles or slicing meat, his technique was undeniably impressive. Anyone watching would have had to give him a thumbs-up.

But...

"Are you fucking operating on me or executing me by a thousand cuts?!"

The Witcher roared, pounding the counter over and over. His eyes rolled back, and sweat poured off him.

"Not becoming an executioner was a fucking waste of your talent! Even the slices are all the same thickness!"

"Stop! Stop right now!"

At this, Lynn lost his patience too.

He slapped the counter and snapped, "Why do you have so much to say?! You're unhappy when I cut slowly, unhappy when I cut quickly, and you won't take an anesthetic either! Why are you so damn demanding?!"

Clinging hard to the counter, the Witcher roared, "Can't you cut it all out in one go? Why do you have to shave it off slice by slice? Are you worried I'm not dying fast enough?"

Lynn protested, "If I finished with one cut, wouldn't that make it a one-cut deal?!"

"..."

"..."

The Witcher asked blankly, "What did you just say?"

Lynn glared. "I mean you need to be meticulous about everything you do! Sure, cutting it all out in one go would be fast, but if I hit a major artery, I guarantee you'll die even faster than you are now!"

"I'm a doctor, an angel in white. You have to trust me! I treat my patients like my own children. I would never allow one of my children to die because they couldn't get treatment!"

The Witcher's lips trembled. Finally, unable to hold back any longer, he roared:

"Cut! Just cut! I'm never coming back to this fucking crooked shop!"

"Don't worry. Once I finish your surgery, you'll fall in love with my knives!"

Swish, swish, swish, swish-

Swish, swish, swish, swish-

[Knife Skills EXP +1]

[Knife Skills EXP +1]

A little over ten minutes later.

The Witcher lay slumped over the counter like a dead pig, his arms wrapped around it. White foam kept bubbling from his mouth, his eyes had rolled back until almost none of his irises were visible, and his body twitched. He had clearly passed out.

Bubble, bubble-

He felt as though he had been dreaming.

A demon stood behind him with two sharp knives and a sinister grin, slicing him into pieces with swift, sweeping strokes.

It even arranged his flesh in front of him for him to sample.

"All done!"

"The initial wound cleaning is complete."

Lynn picked up the strong liquor the demon hunter had left on the counter, added a mouthful of medical alcohol, and noisily swished the mixture around in his mouth.

Then he spat it straight onto the open wound on the demon hunter's shoulder.

"Aaaagh-"

An utterly agonized, terrified howl rang out.