[The Girls' School Teacher] (Episode 2, Chapter 12)

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Chapter Twelve: Killing and Healing

Basic Information: Kuroda Ryūan, male, 32 years old, from Tokyo,

the strongest warrior of the Nine Fox Clan, a powerful yakuza group in Tokyo.

Personality and Hobbies: Fiery and cruel, enjoys tearing enemies apart with his bare hands.

Family: Three mistresses, no children; nephew of the Nine Fox Clan leader.

Area of Activity: During the day, he frequents the area between Shinobu-dori and Myōga-dori in Bunkyo Ward . At night, he frequents

a brothel called "Shirayuki" (White Snow) located between the two areas. One of his mistresses, Ishida

Chika, works there as the manager.

Employer's Request: To die in the brothel with all his bones shattered.

After reviewing the above information and Kuroda Ryūan's photo, I closed my laptop, feeling

a pang of emotion. The Japanese and Americans really do think differently. An American employer might say, "

The more gruesome the better," while Japanese employers make all sorts of bizarre requests.

However, I am a highly ethical assassin. Having accepted the mission, I must do my best to meet the employers'

demands. Besides, using the "Bone-Dislocating Technique" to crush his bones wouldn't be difficult.

It's 1:20 PM now, and there's still a long time before nightfall. I need to prepare for three

hours, then go to Bunkyo Ward two hours early to scout the area.

For an excellent assassin, thorough preparation is always necessary.

It's 8:20 PM, as the city lights begin to twinkle.

The work ethic of Japanese company employees is always respectable. Even without overtime pay,

they usually voluntarily work an extra hour or two after their regular shift. The competition isn't about who leaves first, but who

leaves last. Therefore, the remarkable achievements of large Japanese companies worldwide are not unearned; they are the result of countless

hardships and efforts. Such successful experiences are worth learning from for anyone with a discerning mind, rather than blindly emphasizing narrow

nationalism and hindering one's own development and growth.

Because Japanese company employees often work overtime for an hour or two before leaving the office, 7 or

8 is precisely the time when large numbers of people flock to sunaku, karaoke bars, and pink salons.

Making a move during this time offers excellent secrecy.

Shirayuki, a brothel, is located in a prominent building in Toyoura Rokucho, Bunkyo Ward. The second-floor Shirayuki

brothel occupies approximately 700 square meters, which is quite a good

location in Tokyo, where land is incredibly valuable.

I maintained my rugged and aloof demeanor, wearing a black leather jacket and adorned with numerous heavy metal

accessories , and swaggered into the brothel.

"Welcome!"

a pleasant greeting rang in my ears. I looked around; the hall was filled with tables

of men and women , noisy and boisterous, everyone laughing and chatting, creating a lively atmosphere.

A beautiful woman approached me: "Are you alone or looking for someone?"

I replied gruffly, "I'm alone. I'll just stay in the lobby. I like a lively atmosphere. Also, bring a few more

beautiful women ; I'm a good drinker."

The woman smiled broadly and said, "Okay, please follow me."

Led by her, I chose a seat closest to the corner near the restrooms. It was a small

round table with a tabletop supported by silver-white pillars. The table itself was made of transparent tempered glass, and

sofas separated the smaller tables, offering little privacy.

In less than five minutes, the woman brought three tall, beautiful women. They wore heavy makeup,

but were still presentable.

Along with them came three bottles of liquor, several fruit platters, and a snack platter. This alone cost over

ten thousand yen, not to mention the tips for the three women.

In Japan, brothels are generally called "sukaku," and they have many beautiful women. However,

these women will only drink and chat with you. If you find them attractive, you can touch, hug, and kiss them, but they

will never sleep with you.

Those places where you can have sex are the pink salons and various shops in the Kabuki district. They are cheaper than

brothels , but many Japanese people enjoy the hugging, kissing, and chatting,

and are willing to pay more.

Actually, the service in brothels is not much different from that in Kabuki brothels; it's just that the prices are not as high, and

both the hostesses and customers are less picky.

Of course, it's also important to note that the Kabuki district is a complete sham; almost all of them offer sexual services. The real Kabuki brothels are like the "Shofukutei" Kabuki brothel

I mentioned when I killed Iida Tsutomu— they are scattered throughout various beautiful areas of Tokyo. 　　Genuine Kabuki is a high-class profession in Japan. 　　The Japanese have a kind of fascinated and worshipful attitude towards Kabuki theaters frequented by the nobility and wealthy. When those of lower status couldn't afford to go, sukaku (traditional Japanese adult entertainment) establishments sprang up and gradually expanded to every corner of Japan. 　　My thoughts flashed by, and when I came to my senses, three beautiful women were already seated, opening bottles of sake and drinking . 　　They were very talkative. Seeing that I was dressed in bosozoku (motorcycle gang) clothing, they started talking about what they'd heard about bosozoku, deliberately asking many childish but not annoying questions to verify. After I gave them the answers, they looked at me with stars in their eyes… 　　In short, their deliberate flattery made me feel like being a bosozoku member was something to be proud of. 　　It seems this place gives men a sense of superiority, like a lullaby, making them more confident about tomorrow. No wonder they're willing to come here. If I were a regular office worker , I'd probably want to come here to relieve stress too. 　　My behavior was very much in line with my role—rough and sometimes even touching the women. Although I was generously drinking and making money, a hint of helplessness occasionally flashed in the women's eyes. It seems my vulgarity was quite successful. 　　But I wasn't just putting on an act; my eagle-like eyes had already thoroughly surveyed my surroundings .

A couple sat at the bar; the woman was alluring and elegant, the man burly and imposing

. Three meters away, nine serious-looking men sat, drinking little despite the presence of alcohol, whispering

amongst themselves .

This area was one of the quietest, separated by a small wooden fence, but this

wasn't the reason for the reluctance of customers. The real reason was that everyone who came knew that

any man being intimate with the proprietress was absolutely not to be trifled with.

I noticed that Kuroda Ryūan had been drinking non-stop since I entered,

downing glass after glass. The mature beauty next to him, presumably Ishida Chika, had her eyebrows slightly furrowed,

quietly trying to persuade Kuroda Ryūan, but he seemed agitated, occasionally swearing

before gulping down a drink.

In bars and sukaku establishments, the most frequently used place is the restroom, which is why

I chose this spot.

Kuroda Ryūan had already used the toilet three times, each time accompanied by five men. They first

drove everyone out, two men stayed inside, and then three others blocked the toilet entrance to prevent anyone else

from entering .

Each time Kuroda Ryūan used the toilet, it lasted less than three minutes. This meant that without a special

method, I would have to sneak into the toilet, kill him within three minutes, and leave.

I also scouted the toilet once; it was very advantageous for my assassination. Next to the five urinals side

by side was a half-person-high frosted glass window. Looking through the frosted glass, I could see dark alleyways outside, several

rows of two- or three-story buildings. Judging from the signs on the buildings, they were small companies, now

completely dark.

I had been here in the afternoon and knew that after turning a corner outside these buildings,

there was a well-connected highway. If the assassination succeeded,

I could quickly cross the rooftops and reach the highway within two minutes, then leisurely hop into a taxi and go home.

By observing Kuroda Tatsuan's bathroom visits, I knew he went almost every half hour.

It had been twenty minutes since his last visit, so I could prepare. After

finishing another drink, I leered at the three women and shouted, "Come on,

come home We'll have a good chat tonight!"

The three women, already on the verge of climaxing, breathed a sigh of relief and quickly called over

the madam.

"Excuse me, sir, we can't take women out here,"

the woman who had led me in said politely.

"Bullshit! I have plenty of money. What more money do you want? Why don't you take your money?"

I roared, pulling out a wad of cash.

The madam, neither servile nor arrogant, stopped several burly men who wanted to approach, and said with a smile, "Sir, please have some

self-respect . This is Brother Kuroda Tatsuan's territory. If you're in Bunkyo Ward, you should know

Brother Kuroda's name."

"Kuroda...Kuroda Tatsuan!"

My terrified frenzy vanished instantly, and to onlookers, even my drunken state seemed to have sobered up considerably.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I lost my composure! The bill is due."

I didn't dare utter another word, grabbed a handful of money, handed it to the madam, and ran out in a few strides

.

Behind me came a suppressed sneer: "Hmph, I thought he was so powerful, but he ran away as soon as

he heard the boss's name? Sisters, let's go home. I made money off this sucker today, I'll treat everyone

to Yoshinoya beef bowl."

Five minutes later, I was pressed against the window of the men's restroom at Shirayuki Sukaku.

With my gecko kung fu activated, I could stay glued to the wall for two hours without moving.

While I was in the restroom, I had opened the window a little bit, letting in a gentle breeze

to help those who were drinking sober up, so no one closed it.

After a burst of noise, two people shouted, followed by footsteps.

Everyone inside was ushered out, and they checked each of the enclosed cubicles to make sure no one else was there.

"Ugh!"

Kuroda Ryūan walked in, hiccuping, and the door closed again.

I spun around and flew in through the window like lightning. Relying on my inner energy, I simultaneously threw six small

stones , striking Kuroda Ryūan and his two henchmen in the pressure points. The three of them

lost consciousness without even seeing me.

One of the bodyguards happened to be facing the window; if I hadn't subdued him, I would have

alerted the others . Now, he could only lie limply on the ground, unable to move.

Kuroda Ryūan collapsed beside the urinal. I could tell from his appearance that his external martial arts

were formidable , to the point where he could withstand sword and blade strikes to a certain extent. However, they couldn't compare to internal

martial arts. Furthermore, my pressure point technique, honed through hundreds of real battles, was already at its peak.

Dealing with him shouldn't be a problem.

For the next mission, as North America's top assassin, I showed no mercy to my prey.

I swiftly struck him sixty-two times with my palms, then turned and flew out the window without looking back

. With a light step, I landed on the roof of the opposite building and vanished.

Being an assassin is a very lonely profession. You can't trust anyone, nor can you rely on

anyone . To avoid retaliation from enemies or assassination attempts, you must hide yourself well, preferably never

appearing in public.

As far as I know, many excellent assassins don't die at the hands of their enemies, but rather, unable to bear the loneliness,

suspicion suicide.

The old man taught me two professions: doctor and assassin—that was very meaningful.

Doctors live, assassins die.

Life and death, good and evil, interact with each other, and the doctor's compassionate heart can

neutralize the assassin's ferocity and ruthlessness.

Therefore, no one knows that North America's number one assassin, the doctor, immediately transforms into a true...

As the renowned surgeon Dr. Nak, North America's top surgeon, saving a life is the only way I can quell the murderous intent and distracting thoughts in my

heart .

That's why, after killing Iida Tsutomu, I went to save Sekisaki Toyokuni after his car accident.

The same applies now. After taking two taxis home, I pulled out my phone and called Suzuki

Kyoka.

"Hello, this is Suzuki Kyoka. Who is this?"

Suzuki Kyoka's phone was set to "non-notification mode," meaning there was no number displayed.

Such calls usually come from overseas.

"Kyoka, it's me."

"Oh... sir!" Kyoka's voice rose slightly, tinged with excitement. "

What can I do for you, Kyoka?"

I asked casually, "Who's the patient scheduled for this Saturday?"

Kyoka answered without hesitation, "An ordinary auntie. She's the niece of the old lady from last time

. She has a small tumor in her intestines, and the hospital tests show it's malignant. They recommended immediate surgery. She just

checked in today to recuperate before waiting for your treatment on Saturday."

"How big is the tumor?" "

Three weeks ago it was five millimeters, and now it's eleven millimeters. It's growing very fast."

I pondered for a moment. "Then please have the nurses get ready.

The surgery ."

"Ah, is there a need for such a rush?"

Kyoka hesitated. "Sir, she just started her IV drip today. She needs to be in top condition

before the surgery."

"Her condition can't be delayed any longer; the sooner the surgery, the better. As for the cleansing, please clean her

intestines now. Also, before entering the operating room, administer two thousand units of Modified Mancozeb, three

times five minutes apart, intramuscularly."

"Okay, understood."

Kyoka nodded in agreement. "Please come quickly, sir."

I used my internal energy to dispel the smell of alcohol and even took a bath before comfortably walking to Suzuki's private clinic

. An hour had passed.

A bright and beautiful young woman in a white surgical gown was already waiting for me at the preparation room door.

"Sir, as you instructed, the initial preparations for the patient have been completed. The anesthesia was

injected fifteen minutes ago and will take effect in five minutes,"

Kyoka reported to me.

I nodded, calmly washing and disinfecting my hands and changing into my surgical gown. These actions filled Kyoka with

admiration .

"Sir, Kyoka is incredibly nervous accompanying you during surgery, but you are always so calm and

composed. I'm afraid Kyoka will never reach your level of composure,"

the beautiful young woman said respectfully.

"As long as you study diligently, acquire superb skills, and gain experience in hundreds or even thousands of surgeries,

you can be like me."

I patted her shoulder lightly. "Don't think about those things now. Let's work hard for the health of our patients

!"

"Yes!"

Kyoka followed me with heartfelt admiration into the adjacent operating room. Inside

, two beautiful nurses were waiting, giving me a slight smile with

the same .

In this day and age, highly skilled doctors are rare, and doctors who are both highly skilled and compassionate are even

harder to find. Yet, there was one before them. Although his appearance was rugged and a little ugly, he was enough to make him

the object of their admiration.

"Everyone is ready, so let's begin. Thank you all."

As usual, I bowed slightly to the three of them first.

"Thank you all,"

the three girls whispered after me.

I glanced at the magnified X-ray image under the bright white light, without even trying to locate it, and simply said

in a deep voice , "Give me a size 5 scalpel, size 9 surgical forceps, a blood pressure pump, and cryotherapy spray."

"Yes!"

At that moment, the girls were all in focus, cooperating intently with my needs.

My procedure was simple: I made a six-centimeter incision in the lower abdomen of the patient, and the bright

spotlight immediately shone inside.

The scalpel and surgical forceps were carefully rotated inside her body, while I explained to Kyoka

what , which areas should not be touched with the scalpel, and that only the edge of the surgical forceps should be used to feel for the tumor, where to start

the incision, how to completely remove the tumor, and how not to damage the intestinal wall...

In less than an hour, the tumor was successfully removed, and I left the suturing and post-operative care of the wound to

Kyoka, only instructing her from the side.

After I explained everything, Kyoka seemed to understand only a little, but I knew she carried a tape recorder with her.

She would listen to every word I said dozens of times afterward, studying and simulating the surgeries I performed.

Surgery requires exquisite technique, bold determination, and a stable state of mind. Besides these three most valuable

things, it also requires adaptability in each surgery. The human body has hundreds of surgical sites, hundreds of

diseases , and countless treatment methods. Each requires constant trial and accumulation to gain excellent

treatment experience.

Such treatment experience is a doctor's secret, usually kept to themselves and not taught to others

, as it involves their reputation and money. Doctors are the same; they cherish their skills.

Kyoka's admiration for me also stemmed from these elements. She knew that as long as she understood

my surgical experience, through practice and experience, she would definitely become an excellent doctor,

just like you!

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