Half an hour later.
The surgery was over.
Sosuke was drenched in sweat.
It was more exhausting than refining chakra all night. A result of intense, unbroken mental strain.
He wrapped the wound tightly, layer upon layer of gauze.
"It is done."
Sosuke dropped the bloodied silver scalpel. The blade was already chipped and had oxidized to a dull black.
The surrounding thugs stared at the basin of rotting flesh, their faces pale. They had killed men before, but watching a surgical amputation was a different beast entirely.
Boss Viper was jolted awake by a splash of cold water.
He opened his eyes weakly, his gaze immediately darting to his leg.
It was still there.
Moreover, that bone-deep, burning agony had vanished. In its place was a numb, cooling sensation.
"I'm alive..." Viper muttered.
The way he looked at Sosuke had changed. If he had previously treated this as a desperate gamble, his eyes now held genuine awe. This young man didn't just possess a miracle cure; he wielded a terrifyingly precise blade.
"How much?" Viper asked.
"The surgery is 5,000 Ryo." Sosuke wiped the blood from his hands. "The medicine is separate. You need to change the dressing daily. 200 Ryo a bottle."
It was expensive. But it was only a tenth of what the Konohagakure Hospital would charge.
Viper waved a hand.
A subordinate stepped forward, handing over a heavy pouch.
"Here is 10,000 Ryo."
Viper propped himself up. He swept a dark, warning glare over his men before his eyes finally settled on Sosuke.
"The rest is for your trouble. And..."
He paused.
"From now on, if anyone gives you trouble on this street, mention my name. As long as it isn't those red-eyed bastards from the Uchiha, I'll handle it for you."
Sosuke took the pouch and tossed it onto the counter.
The men from the Red Snake Gang carefully carried his boss Viper out.
Silence reclaimed the room.
Sosuke slumped into his chair. He stared at his trembling hands.
His first surgery.
A success.
It was all thanks to the silver powder. That basin of water used to flush the wound contained at least several hundred Ryo worth of dissolved silver. 'A normal civilian doctor could never afford such an excessive dose of antibiotics.'
Just then.
The door was pushed open again.
Sosuke frowned.
"We are closed for the day."
"Closed?"
A cold voice echoed.
Two men in dark blue uniforms stepped inside. The fan crests on their chests were glaringly obvious.
The Uchiha Military Police Force.
The leader was young, around twenty, with short hair and a gaze as sharp as a blade. He glanced at the bloodstains on the floor, then at the blackened silver scalpel on the counter.
"We received a report of illegal medical practice and a gathering of gang members."
The young Uchiha officer walked up to the counter, looking down at Sosuke with disdain.
"Your temporary residence permit. Hand it over."
'Perfect timing.' Sosuke's heart sank.
The gang had barely left before the police arrived. The timing was too precise. The Red Snake Gang's large-scale movement had obviously not escaped the Police Force's notice.
Sosuke produced the card.
The Uchiha officer took it, didn't even glance at it, and dropped it onto the floor.
"It was issued through the Takaya Merchant Guild," Sosuke said calmly. "I am a relative of Takaya Jiro."
"Takaya Jiro?" The Uchiha officer sneered, grinding the toe of his boot into the ID. "That fat merchant? In front of the Uchiha, he isn't even worth a dog's life."
This was the arrogance of the Uchiha.
It was the very flaw that would eventually lead to their annihilation. But right now, that arrogance was heavy enough to crush Sosuke.
"That was Viper just now, wasn't it?" The officer pointed at the blood on the floor. "You saved him?"
"I run an apothecary. I treat whoever pays."
"Very principled." The officer nodded, though his eyes held zero admiration. "But not only did you treat a gang member, you are also suspected of using a restricted metal."
He walked over to the medical tray and picked up the ruined silver scalpel.
Though it was blackened, its texture clearly betrayed its metallic nature.
"Do you have a permit to privately forge a restricted weapon like this?"
If you want to condemn a man, you can always find a charge.
In the shinobi world, kunai and shuriken were everywhere. How could a simple scalpel be considered a restricted weapon?
But this man was an Uchiha.
If he said it was, it was.
"It is just a sliver of silver," Sosuke explained. "It's soft. It can't kill a man."
"Whether it can kill or not, we'll decide at headquarters."
The officer waved his hand.
"Take him."
The second officer stepped forward and pulled out a pair of handcuffs.
Sosuke did not resist.
Resisting the Uchiha right now was a death sentence.
His hands were shackled. Cold iron clamped down on his wrists.
Sosuke kept his head bowed, hiding his eyes beneath the shadow of his bangs.
He felt no fear.
He was calculating.
'This is a crisis... but it's also an opportunity.'
The Police Force's interrogation room was a place where he could gather more intel.
"Confiscate the evidence."
The young officer snatched the 10,000 Ryo pouch from the counter and swept a few bottles of Purified Water off the shelves.
This was what they called 'law enforcement'.
Sosuke was shoved out of the shop.
Out on the street, several neighbors peeked out to watch the commotion, but no one dared speak. The Uchiha's fierce reputation was built on iron-fisted brutality.
Before being hauled away, Sosuke cast one last glance back at his storefront.
He wasn't worried.
As long as Takaya Jiro didn't want to lose his cash cow, and as long as the Red Snake Gang didn't want to lose the only miracle doctor who could treat their wounds...
He would get out.
And he would walk out with his head held high.
This was simply Konohagakure teaching him a lesson:
In this village, money alone wasn't enough.
You needed power.
Or, you needed to become a tool that power desired.
The Police Force interrogation room was freezing.
There were no windows.
Only a single, dim incandescent bulb hung overhead, emitting a faint, electric buzz. The walls were lined with soundproofing material, mottled with dark red stains that could have been rust—or old blood.
Sosuke sat in an iron chair.
His hands were cuffed in front of him.
Sitting across the table was the young Uchiha officer.
Scattered across the table was the loot plundered from Sosuke's shop:
The pouch of 10,000 Ryo.
A few bottles of Purified Water.
And the chipped, blackened scalpel.
"Talk."
The Uchiha officer crossed his legs, lazily tossing the heavy coin pouch in his hand.
"Where did this money come from?"
"I earned it treating the gang," Sosuke replied.
"What kind of treatment earns 10,000 Ryo at once?" The officer sneered. "Blood money?"
"You could say that. It was the price of saving a leg."
"Still stubborn."
The officer slammed a hand on the table.
"We suspect you are conducting illegal transactions with the Red Snake Gang. You might even be fencing stolen goods for them."
He pointed at the scalpel.
"The laboratory team has already checked the composition of this blade. Solid silver. An exceptionally high-purity silver, at that."
Sosuke's heart gave a slight thud.
'The Uchiha operate efficiently.'
"A poor kid running a slum apothecary, forging knives out of pure silver? Are you sitting on a silver mine?"
The officer leaned forward, his black eyes locking onto Sosuke.
He was applying pressure.
Even without activating the Sharingan, the chilling, ominous chakra unique to the Uchiha clan was already suffusing the air. A normal civilian would have pissed themselves by now.
But Sosuke did not.
In the midst of that oppressive aura, he managed to catch the scent of something else.
Greed.
The focus of this interrogation wasn't the knife. It was the money.
"It was family heirloom silverware. I melted it down." Sosuke stuck to his prepared alibi. "It was the only way to save a life."
"Save a life?"
The officer stood up and walked around the table.
He grabbed Sosuke by the collar and hauled him to his feet.
"In Konohagakure, only certified medical shinobi are permitted to save lives. You are practicing medicine without a license. This is attempted murder."
He leaned in close.
"According to the law, we can lock you up for three months."
Three months.
If he was locked away for three months, his shop would be ruined, and Takaya Jiro's investment would go down the drain.
He couldn't afford to go to prison.