SSS-Ranked Surgeon In Another World: The Healer Is Actually OP! Chapter 332: The Message

"That’s not how ferntation works," Kelvin slurred weakly from sowhere beneath the table.

At so point, while drinking he had lost the war against gravity and slid halfway onto the floor, one arm draped limply over the leg of his chair like a fallen soldier refusing to admit defeat.

Duke waved him off dismissively without even glancing down.

"Details."

Brakk burst into booming laughter that shook the entire table.

Lyra had leaned back in her chair, watching the spectacle with clear amusent while lazily swirling the liquor in her own glass.

Torren was halfway through retelling the sa hunting story for the third ti, each retelling sohow adding an additional thirty ters to the size of the monster he claid to have fought.

The guild hall had grown loud.

Warm.

Chaotic.

Lanterns swayed slightly overhead as voices rose and laughter echoed through the room.

Yet amidst the noise.

Bruce remained calm.

He leaned back slightly in his chair, the thick wooden fra creaking softly beneath his weight as he observed the room around him.

Watching.

Listening.

Drinking.

Still completely sober.

Across the table.

Jean poured another glass and swallowed it in one long gulp.

The amber liquid burned down her throat like liquid fire, but she barely reacted. The heat slid through her chest and spread outward through her limbs, yet her expression remained composed, almost distant. She simply set the empty glass down with a quiet clink and reached for the bottle again, tilting it carefully as the dark liquor splashed back into the crystal.

Across the table Bruce continued drinking silently.

Glass after glass.

His movents were calm and unhurried, the quiet rhythm of soone entirely unaffected by the chaos unfolding around him. He neither rushed nor hesitated. He simply drank like a man enjoying a quiet evening among acquaintances, his posture relaxed, his gaze occasionally drifting across the noisy hall as if observing rather than participating.

If anyone had expected the Ashen Gin to eventually affect him, they were quickly disappointed.

Nothing changed.

His breathing remained steady.

His thoughts remained clear.

His vision remained sharp.

anwhile the rest of the table had begun to fall victim to the relentless strength of the liquor.

Torren was halfway through an extrely dramatic retelling of a hunt that had clearly grown more exaggerated with every refill. He leaned forward across the table, his face flushed red beneath the lantern light as he slamd his palm loudly against the wood.

"I swear to you," he declared loudly, pointing his mug like a weapon, "that beast had three heads!"

"It was a two horned stag," Lyra corrected lazily without even looking up from her drink.

"That’s exactly what I said."

"You said three heads."

Torren blinked at her with profound seriousness.

"Details."

Laughter erupted around the table.

Kelvin had long since lost his battle with gravity. He had slid halfway down in his chair and was now leaning against the table leg while arguing with the empty bottle beside him with great conviction.

"Listen," he muttered sternly, pointing accusingly at the bottle, "if you can’t read the stars then you shouldn’t even be in the forest."

Duke was laughing so hard he nearly spilled his drink.

"This," he declared grandly as he raised his glass high, "is why adventurers are the backbone of civilization."

Brakk slamd his mug down again with enough force to make the entire table jump.

"Another!"

Jean poured again.

She drank.

Then poured again.

The rhythm continued almost automatically.

Lift.

Drink.

Pour.

Repeat.

Throughout all of it her gaze occasionally drifted back toward Bruce.

Every ti it did.

The mories returned.

The trial.

Her fingers tightened slightly around the neck of the bottle as she poured another glass.

She could still rember the way the others had begun disappearing.

One after another.

Dots vanishing from the map.

Team mbers cut down without warning.

No screams.

No battles.

Just sudden elimination.

Like prey vanishing into the dark.

And then she had realized.

They weren’t facing monsters.

They were facing him.

The way he had appeared was still burned into her mory with painful clarity.

Silent.

Unavoidable.

Like a shadow stepping out of another shadow.

No wasted movent.

No anger.

No emotion.

Just efficiency.

The mont he appeared behind her she had understood sothing terrifying.

Escape had never been an option. She stood no chance, he simply dominated and played with her. Even now nothing had changed, it has not been long but she felt as if the gap had grown even greater between them.

"Damnit" she cursed as she poured another glass.

Drank it.

The Ashen Gin burned down her throat again.

Across the table Bruce calmly lifted another glass.

Unbothered.

Unchanged.

Still the sa.

His eyes remained clear and steady as he drank, as if the alcohol were nothing more than flavored water. The lantern light reflected faintly across the surface of his glass as he set it down again.

Duke noticed the glances.

So did Lyra.

Even Torren had noticed by now, though his alcohol soaked brain was struggling to piece together what exactly he was observing.

But none of them said anything.

Adventurers understood unspoken tensions.

So things didn’t need to be voiced.

Across the table Bruce simply continued drinking.

Ignoring the glances.

Ignoring the tension.

Another glass.

Still nothing.

Then.

A faint vibration brushed against his wrist.

Bruce paused.

His smart bracelet pulsed softly against his skin.

The subtle vibration felt almost out of place amidst the loud drunken energy of the guild hall.

He glanced down.

A ssage notification.

He tapped the interface and a holographic panel unfolded above the bracelet, pale blue light spilling softly across the table.

The sender na appeared.

Sophie.

Bruce blinked once.

Then opened the ssage.

Imdiately he noticed several missed calls stacked above the newest ssage.

His brows lifted slightly.

’Ah.’

When he had entered the Labyrinth earlier, he had stored the bracelet away before battle. No signal. No connection.

Which ant.

The calls had never reached him.

The newest ssage appeared on the screen.

[Sophie]: [Thank God you’re online Bruce...]