SSS-Ranked Surgeon In Another World: The Healer Is Actually OP!

The man let out a long, shuddering sigh. “Fine… it was me. I was behind everything.”

He straightened slightly, forcing a smirk back onto his face. “But you can’t kill me. There are witnesses outside. If I don’t walk out of here, they’ll raise questions. You’ll be the one in trouble.”

Bruce’s eyes narrowed. He hadn’t expected the man to grow bold all of a sudden.

“He’s right,” Sophie said, her voice cool but edged with steel. Her crimson gaze flicked toward Bruce, calm as a blade about to be unsheathed. “Killing him here will only complicate things for you.”

“I never planned to kill him,” Bruce said evenly, his gaze never wavering from the man.

The smirk on the man’s lips widened at that answer. His confidence was bait, obvious and deliberate.

But then Bruce’s lips curled upward, not in amusement, but in something far darker. The wicked smile spread across his face, chilling the room.

“That I won’t kill you,” Bruce said softly, “doesn’t mean you’ll walk away without bruises… or broken bones.”

The smirk on the man’s face vanished instantly. Dread crept into his eyes as Bruce’s presence bore down on him, heavier than steel.

Bruce tilted his head slightly. “So tell me… what’s your name?”

The question shattered the tension in the room.

“What? You don’t know my name?” the man asked, baffled. To him, it was absurd, he had spent days close to Bruce and his family. Of course Bruce should know him. But he didn’t know Bruce had lost every shred of memory.

At Bruce’s side, Sophie’s lips quirked into a faint, knowing smile. ’Of course he’s going to ask something like that. He lost his memories and knows nothing of this man in front of him…. I almost forgot that.’

“Wait! Are you really saying you don’t kno-…

AAAAARGH!”

The man’s words broke into a scream as a white-hot pain seared through his hand. Bruce had grabbed his middle finger and bent it back at an unnatural angle, slow and precise, like a surgeon dislocating a joint.

“Who said you get to question me back when I’m the one asking?” Bruce’s voice was low, cold, merciless, his tone carried the authority of a man used to commanding life and death. “Answer properly… and walk away with fewer limbs intact.”

Bruce didn’t stop. His grip tightened, pushing further until…

CRACK-!

The bone snapped clean at the joint.

“AAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!” The man’s scream tore through the walls as his finger bent backward grotesquely, skin splitting at the joint. Bone jutted against torn flesh, blood trickling down his hand in a thin, steady stream.

The shout carried beyond the room, catching the ears of those waiting outside. Murmurs stirred, but Bruce didn’t care. Their whispers meant nothing compared to what this man had tried to do.

A slow smile spread wider across Bruce’s face, his eyes gleaming with chilling amusement. “See? You’re not in a position to bargain. You either talk… or I move on to the next finger.”

The man’s chest heaved, sweat dripping down his face. Fear twisted his features.

’When… when did the timid Bruce I knew turn into this demon?!’

Bruce chuckled darkly, lifting his hand toward the next finger. “Oh? I see we still have time to waste.”

“No, wait! I’ll talk! I’LL TALK!!!” the man screamed, desperation cracking his voice. At that moment, he feared Bruce even more than he had ever feared Sophie Reign or the weight of her powerful family.

“My name is Dante… I’m your uncle. And yes, yes, I’m the one behind it. I’m the one who poisoned your family!”

The words spilled out in a rush, more than Bruce had even asked for. Fear had loosened his tongue.

Bruce’s smile curved slowly, chillingly. “Good. Now… tell me. Are you the only one behind this? Or is there someone else pulling strings?”

“No… no, it’s just me. I swear!” Dante stammered, shaking his head violently.

Bruce’s grin sharpened. “Really? You expect me to buy a half-ass lie like that?” His grip tightened on another finger, bending it back until the bone creaked, stopping just shy of snapping. The pressure alone was enough to draw screams.

“ARGH! Stop, please! Yes! Yes!” Tears welled in Dante’s eyes, rolling down his face as he sobbed.

“Keep talking,” Bruce said, voice steady, almost casual. “Who else is guilty?”

“That’s the problem, I don’t know who! They were the ones who provided me the poison!” His words tumbled out in a rush, desperate, raw.

Outside the door, the murmurs of those gathered faltered. Those who had thought to intervene finally began to realize, Bruce wasn’t blindly lashing out. He was uncovering the truth.

“Are you sure?” Bruce’s tone was soft, but his smile was razor-sharp. He increased the pressure on the finger, just enough to push it to the brink.

“I swear! On my life, on my mother’s soul! I don’t know who among my brothers was supporting me. They never let me see!”

“Oops.”

CRACK-!

The bone snapped under Bruce’s hand, the finger bending grotesquely.

“AAAAAAAAH! Hah—hah—!” Dante’s scream echoed, his body trembling from the pain.

“Are you sure that’s all?” Bruce asked coldly, his hand already drifting toward the next finger, like a surgeon moving calmly to the next incision.

“I swear… please! I’ve told you everything I know!”

Satisfied at last, Bruce released him. Dante collapsed to the ground, clutching his mangled hand, blood running freely from the broken fingers as he writhed in agony.

Bruce straightened, his gaze finally flicking toward Sophie. “What are the law enforcers of this world?”

Sophie blinked once, then met his eyes with steady resolve. Her voice was calm, matter-of-fact, yet her presence carried weight. “The Knights. The Order of the Knights.”