Izumi Kiyokazu stared down at the doctor pinned beneath him, his palm clamped firmly over the man's mouth. He could not afford to let a single scream escape.
"Mmph! Mmmph!"
The piercing shriek building in the doctor's throat was forced back down by Qinghe's iron grip, leaving only muffled, agonized whimpers.
Qinghe pulled the dagger from the man's wrist. Due to the Sun Breathing, the blade carried a searing heat that had already cooked the surrounding flesh into a charred, mangled pulp. As the blade slid out, the doctor's entire body convulsed with a fresh wave of excruciating pain.
Pinned flat against the floor, the middle-aged doctor looked up at the deathly pale Qinghe. He saw the sweat dripping from the boy's brow, and his professional instinct told him that this attacker was actually in a state of extreme physical exhaustion.
And yet... the strength in the arm pinning his face felt like an immovable, terrifying force of nature.
Looking through the gaps of the fingers at those eyes—eyes that seemed to burn with actual flames—the doctor felt like a piece of prey cornered by a prehistoric beast. The blood in his veins felt as though it were turning to ice.
Qinghe's voice was raspy as he spoke. "From this moment on, do not make a single sound. Otherwise, I will kill you instantly."
Qinghe did this not just to punish the doctor for his wretched intentions, but to keep him quiet. The thugs he had driven off earlier might still be nearby; a loud commotion would draw them right back. Furthermore, while Yoshiwara was hardly a bastion of law and order, it did have constables and various gang territories. It was a complex web of power, and Qinghe had no desire to stir up more trouble than necessary at this critical juncture.
The doctor, hearing the cold lethality in Qinghe's tone, did his best to squeeze a broken plea for mercy from his throat. "Don't... don't kill me. Take anything! Just take it!"
Qinghe's voice sounded like sandpaper rubbing together, layered with an undeniable chill. "The medicine. Tell me where all the useful medicine is. Now."
To ensure the man didn't lie, Qinghe maintained his weight on the doctor while his other hand slowly gripped the dagger, which still hummed with a faint, glowing red heat. He thrust it into the doctor's wrist once more, giving the blade a slight, deliberate twist.
The flare of agony shattered the man's ability to think clearly. He blurted out the location by pure instinct. "In... in the third drawer over there! Everything you want is there!"
Qinghe knew little about medicine. To prevent the doctor from tricking them into taking something harmful or counterproductive, he used pain to break the man's logical faculties. Under such intense suffering, few people were capable of crafting a flawless lie. Had the doctor hesitated or looked suspicious, Qinghe wouldn't have thought twice about taking the arm off entirely to drive the point home.
Staring at the blood flowing from the man's arm, Qinghe felt a wave of nausea. Only a few months ago, he had been a mere office drone who had never even killed a fish. The sheer speed of his transformation into someone capable of this left his mind in a state of turmoil.
Just as Qinghe had predicted, the combination of intense pain and the fear of death completely broke the doctor. He had given up the medicine's location without a second thought.
Ume stood by, staring at Qinghe—who had appeared like a ghost to save her—and the doctor he had neutralized. She was momentarily paralyzed. Seeing Qinghe's bare, scarred torso and the sweat-soaked exertion on his face, she felt an indescribable ache in her heart. Her eyes reddened; she wanted to cry.
Too much had happened today. From the attempted kidnapping by the thugs and the doctor's disgusting propositions to her brother's collapse... it was all too heavy a burden for a girl barely ten years old. Qinghe's sudden appearance acted as an anchor for her, giving her a harbor where her panicked heart could finally find rest.
This moment was etched deeply into Ume's soul—a memory that would likely never fade as long as she lived.
Qinghe looked up at the dazed girl. His voice softened, though the urgency remained. "Go. Get the medicine. Everything in there that you can carry. Take it all! Quickly!"
Hearing his command, Ume snapped back to reality. She knew this was no time for a daze. She snatched her money back from the counter and lunged toward the medicine cabinet. Following the doctor's directions, she yanked open the drawer. Without bothering to sort them, she stuffed every useful-looking vial, pouch, and roll of clean gauze into her cloth bag.
While Ume worked, Qinghe continued to pin the doctor, his Sun Breathing barely sustaining him. Physical fatigue and the throbbing pain of his own wounds crashed against his willpower like a tide, but he held on. He had to hold on until Ume was safely home.
Ume moved with lightning speed. In less than a minute, her bag was stuffed to the brim. She hoisted the heavy bundle over her shoulder and nodded firmly at Qinghe. "I have it! Let's go!"
Qinghe's eyes sharpened. He jerked the rusted dagger out of the man's arm.
"Mmph!"
The doctor opened his mouth to scream, but Qinghe's hand clamped down even harder. He leaned in close to the man's ear, his voice sounding like a curse from the abyss.
"I will pay you back for this medicine eventually. But remember this: do not tell a single soul about tonight. If you do, I will find you and kill you before I take my last breath. Keep your shop quiet and stay alive. That's more important than anything else, isn't it?"
Feeling the cold edge of the dagger against his throat, the doctor nodded frantically, too terrified to speak.
Qinghe said nothing more. He stood up and grabbed Ume's hand. Ume's face flushed slightly at the contact. Qinghe gave a low, sharp command:
"Move!"
The two of them burst out of the gloomy clinic. Almost immediately, Qinghe's legs buckled, and he nearly tumbled to the ground. Fortunately, Ume was there to catch him.
"How are you?" Ume looked at his ashen face, her heart twisting with worry.
"I'm fine. Don't support me; we can't let anyone see how weak I am. We need to get back. Give me the money—I'll buy some food. You go back and treat your brother's wounds. We can't stay at the shack anymore. We need to find somewhere else!"
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