N-A-A Chapter 52
Chapter 52
Chapter 52: Let's See If You Could Reattach It
"Hey! You there in the back—sleeping!"
On the podium, Fujino Juro slammed his hand onto the desk, furious beyond measure.
"Get up here!!"
He despised students who didn't pay attention in class!
It was an insult to his medical expertise!
At that moment, every pair of eyes in the classroom snapped toward the back row.
Especially Lu Shiyan, Kujo Ran, Hoshino Hikari, and Yekaterina.
They were all curious—what would this outrageously arrogant man do next?
Knowing this guy's track record...
'He'll definitely ignore the teacher and keep sleeping, right?'
Lu Shiyan predicted silently.
And yet.
Something happened that left everyone utterly dumbfounded.
Rustle.
Jiang Nan actually peeled the sticky note off his face and stood up from his chair.
But he showed not a single trace of fear or submission.
Hands in his pockets, his coat hem swaying gently with each step, he walked straight up to the podium—
—and came to a stop in front of Fujino Juro.
Then.
Right before everyone's eyes.
He reached out and—slap—pressed a sticky note directly onto Fujino Juro's enraged face.
"......"
The classroom fell into absolute silence.
Lu Shiyan's still-swollen eyes went wide, the cigarette in his mouth forgotten.
'A madman... An absolute madman! Did this guy escape from a psychiatric ward?!'
He ranted inwardly, though his tone couldn't quite hide a flicker of envy.
He had to admit...
This guy knew how to make a statement.
That kind of move—taunting a malevolent spirit right to its face—even a seasoned man like him found it impressively cool.
As for the consequences...
Heh, nobody would ever know.
In the 2nd row, Yekaterina pressed both hands tightly to her chest, staring at Jiang Nan's back.
'That feeling again...'
'Every time this man shows that contempt-for-all arrogance, my blood starts to boil...'
'What is the reason? Could he possibly be...?'
Yekaterina's expression grew grave, her eyes filled with probing uncertainty.
In the corner, Kujo Ran laughed furiously to herself: 'Arrogant Huaxia man!'
'Go ahead and provoke that ghost! You'll pay for it!'
In the front row, Hoshino Hikari stared blankly, genuinely questioning herself: 'Am I supposed to have something to say about this too?'
She looked at the tension crackling on the podium, then glanced at Jiang Nan's teammates, who showed no reaction whatsoever.
Curious, she turned to Guo Shuai, who was sitting closest to her.
"Um... aren't you worried?"
"That's a ghost teacher up there!"
At that moment, Guo Shuai was slumped across his desk, his face ashen, like a man who had seen through the illusions of this world.
Hearing Hoshino's question, he answered on reflex.
"Worried?"
"Heh... that's because you're not used to it."
"We've basically been desensitized."
"Being around him, if your heart rate doesn't hit 180 you're basically on a health retreat."
"?"
Just then.
Fujino Juro on the podium finally processed what had happened.
He was enraged!
"ROAR!!"
His already towering frame instantly ballooned to 3 meters tall!
The white lab coat shredded apart completely, revealing that terrifying musculature beneath.
Those enormous eyes—nothing but white—locked onto Jiang Nan, his roar deafening.
"Human!! Who did you say has no qualifications?!!"
Jiang Nan's expression didn't flicker.
Unhurried, he produced another sticky note and with a backhand—slap—pressed it onto Fujino Juro's forehead.
【You, obviously. Idiot.】
"You're asking for death!!"
Fujino Juro went completely berserk!
No windup. No preamble. This was a Zero-Frame Startup from a cursed entity!
Whoosh!
That enormous Pig-Slaughtering Knife swung down toward Jiang Nan's head in an instant!
And yet.
Jiang Nan didn't even blink.
Hmmm!
The blade halted, hard—just 1 millimeter from the top of Jiang Nan's head.
The ferocious wind from the swing tossed Jiang Nan's bangs, yet those pitch-black eyes of his held only stillness.
Fujino Juro held the slicing pose, that grotesque face written over with confusion.
"You... why are you not afraid?"
Jiang Nan looked at him coldly.
Another sticky note slid down the blade's edge onto Fujino Juro's arm, thick with dark hair.
【Because I don't fear you.】
Outwardly ice-cold to the extreme—inwardly, Jiang Nan was ranting.
'Please.'
'I've got 6 stacked layers of Abyss Court Heavy Domain's counter-armor on me. Anyone who enters the range with killing intent triggers it automatically.'
'Afraid of your little knife? I'd sooner worry about whether there'll be an 8 AM class when world peace suddenly breaks out.'
Fujino Juro sank into a brief silence.
Then, slowly, he withdrew the knife. His massive frame shrank back to its original size.
"Very well."
"You are the bravest human I have ever encountered."
"But I hope this bravery does not stem from ignorance."
Fujino Juro pointed at Jiang Nan.
"In that case... prove your ability to me! Prove that you are worthy to stand before me!"
"Otherwise! I will not hesitate to chop you into minced meat and send you to the cafeteria to feed the students!"
The implication was plain.
The capable survive! The useless die!
Jiang Nan did not refuse. He simply gave a mild nod.
Seeing this, Fujino Juro turned around, grabbed Izumishita Mukon by the scruff, and hauled him up onto the lectern.
"Hah?!"
Izumishita Mukon panicked instantly, his body trembling violently.
Clearly, he knew exactly what Fujino Juro was about to do.
"Relax~"
Fujino Juro pressed down on his head, bringing that terrifying face close, voice tender.
"My technique is excellent. Don't be nervous."
As he spoke, the cold Pig-Slaughtering Knife slid along Izumishita Mukon's cheek, past the shoulder, finally coming to rest at the root of his thigh.
He rapped the blade's spine twice against the thigh bone—thunk, thunk:
"Today... we will learn how to properly remove a lower leg and an arm... and then..."
He patted Izumishita Mukon's right arm.
"Reattach them."
"Hssss!"
The students below sucked in a sharp breath.
However, Izumishita Mukon suddenly stopped trembling.
He seemed to recall something. A fawning smile actually crept onto his face, and he spoke up on his own initiative.
"Teacher! Please be gentle! I can endure it!"
"I have experience! I'm not afraid!"
He seemed to have witnessed even more horrifying scenes on some prior occasion, and wanted to use this to show off his own boldness.
"Relax~"
Fujino Juro's face broke into a smile.
"My medical expertise is known to every single person in this school."
"Because... every person who has witnessed my surgery in this school has died!"
"Not a single one survived to say it was bad! Keh keh keh!!"
The moment that cold punchline landed.
Shlick!
The knife rose and fell!
Izumishita Mukon's right arm flew off in an instant, the cut smooth as a mirror.
Before he could even scream.
Crack!
Another stroke—severing his right thigh clean through!
"Aaaaaaaahhhhh!!"
A piercing shriek erupted through the classroom.
Izumishita Mukon writhed in agony across the lectern, blood instantly dyeing the podium red.
"Ah, sorry, sorry."
The next moment he was pinned down, Fujino Juro apologized without a shred of sincerity, a deranged grin stretched across his face.
"I accidentally cut a little too much... I only meant to remove the lower leg and the forearm... heh heh heh."
Below, hit by the thick, iron reek of blood, everyone's faces turned ugly.
Lu Shiyan held his scalpel, watched the podium, and shook his head.
"With that volume of blood loss... no saving him~"
Then, with an amused smile, he looked toward Jiang Nan.
‘So then...’
‘How are you going to wrap this up?’
"Look."
Fujino Juro ignored the screaming student and looked at Jiang Nan, pointing at the severed limbs.
"I have now removed his parts."
"Now, it is your turn..."
"Didn't you say I have no qualifications to teach you?"
"Then! Go and reattach his leg and his arm!"
"If you can do it, I will overlook the insult you dealt me just now—and even give you a reward!"
Fujino Juro's smile was deeply unsettling.
This was blatant sabotage!
No surgical instruments. No sutures. No steel plates!
With just bare hands, how could anyone possibly reattach a severed limb?
This was simply impossible!
Hoshino Hikari turned to Guo Shuai again.
Guo Shuai seemed to have already predicted what she was going to ask, and rolled his eyes before she spoke.
"I know you're anxious, but hold on—let me be anxious first."
Then, forcing his weakened body upright, Guo Shuai slapped the desk and stood, raising his objection:
"You're deliberately making things impossible!"
"No instruments! No suture thread! How could anyone possibly reattach it?!"
"This isn't fair!"
Fujino Juro showed no anger whatsoever.
He simply let out a cold laugh, then suddenly raised the knife and swung it down hard onto his own left arm!
Thud!
The left arm hit the floor.
Then he picked up his own left arm, aligned it with the wound, and jammed it back on—hard!
Slap!
The flesh at the wound site writhed and squirmed, and it fused back together, just like that.
"Like this."
Fujino Juro flexed his restored left arm, looking at Guo Shuai.
"Any more questions?"
"......"
Guo Shuai went silent.
He'd been countered by a ghost using a live demonstration—with no comeback whatsoever!
The kind where you're completely speechless!
Just as he had no idea how to salvage the situation.
All of a sudden, Jiang Nan on the podium moved.
He showed no panic. Calmly, he tossed a sticky note to Fujino Juro.
【Give me the knife.】
Fujino Juro's smile vanished instantly, as though curious to see what this human could possibly pull off.
"Here."
He handed the Pig-Slaughtering Knife to Jiang Nan.
Jiang Nan took the knife, weighed it in his hand, then lightly flicked the flat of the blade with his fingertip.
Hmmm!
A crisp, clear ring.
On the lectern, Izumishita Mukon—face drained white from blood loss—stared at Jiang Nan holding the knife, his eyes filled with dread.
"No... please no..."
"Just let me die like this! I beg you... don't use me for experiments!"
He knew he was going to die. Ghost words truly could not be trusted!
Jiang Nan lowered his head and looked at him.
Suddenly, the corners of his mouth tilted upward—a smile, impossibly gentle.
That expression—like a spring breeze brushing across wild grass, warm and healing.
In the entertainment industry, it would have been the kind of iconic scene a top-tier gentle heartthrob could use to captivate thousands of fans.
Izumishita Mukon froze. Within that smile, he somehow felt a flicker of peace.
Sadly, though...
This was Jiang Nan.
The next second.
That gentle smile remained fixed on his face, but the motion of his hands turned savage in an instant.
Whirr, whirr, whirr!
Jiang Nan's wrist spun at blinding speed—that heavy Pig-Slaughtering Knife became like a power saw in his grip!
Zzzt! Zzzt! Zzzt!!
The grinding of bone rang out!
Jiang Nan had taken the knife tip and was carving wildly into the smooth stump of Izumishita Mukon's severed limb!
With nothing but sheer force, he gouged a mortise socket directly into that bone-white bone!
Then, seizing the severed arm and leg from the floor, he carved a matching tenon into the bone on the other end!
"AAAAAAAHHHHH!!"
The excruciating pain of having someone work directly on bare bone.
Jolted Izumishita Mukon—who had been on the verge of passing out—back into full consciousness with a last-gasp surge, unleashing a pig-slaughter scream!
‘Done.’
Jiang Nan paid the screaming no mind.
Under the gazes of the room—eyes so wide they looked ready to pop out of their skulls.
Before Fujino Juro's gaping mouth.
Jiang Nan grabbed the severed limbs, aligned them to the carved grooves, and pressed down—hard!
Click!
A crisp snap, like building blocks slotting into place!
A perfect fit.
Right arm—reattached!
Right leg—reattached!
Though Izumishita Mukon had long since fainted from the pain, his eyes rolled back—that arm and that leg...
Were genuinely hanging on his body, and couldn't be shaken loose no matter what!
Job done.
Clang!
Jiang Nan casually tossed the Pig-Slaughtering Knife—coated in bone shards and scraps of flesh—onto the desk.
Without sparing Fujino Juro so much as a glance, he slid his hands back into his pockets, turned, and walked off the podium.
His coat hem swayed. He left behind a silhouette of effortless cool.
The deed done, he brushed off his sleeves and walked away—his merit buried and his name unsung.