SSS-Ranked Surgeon In Another World: The Healer Is Actually OP! Chapter 41: Just Business

Steelquill Raven feathers, Night Cat fur, Blood Hound hide, a chipped Stone Lizard scale. Jordan piled everything on the table without hesitation.

Bruce exhaled and rolled his shoulders. It was a calm gesture, but to Jordan it felt like watching a blade being unsheathed.

He began with the Steelquill Raven feathers, placing a single obsidian-black quill between his fingers. He extended his palm slowly.

"Mirrored Surgeon," he said. It was not a shout, not even a declaration. Just a quiet command.

Deep silver light poured from his hand.

Before Jordan’s eyes, the feather pulsed once and then split. It liquefied at a microscopic level, breaking down to cell, to code, to life itself. In seconds, a zygote ford. In five seconds, an egg. In ten seconds, the shell cracked.

A hatchling erged with a cry, but before sound could escape its beak, Bruce spoke again.

"Heal."

It grew.

Bones ford. Feathers sharpened like daggers. Wings expanded. Within monts, a fully grown Steelquill Raven stood before Bruce.

Then another erged.

Then another.

And another.

It was endless. Life rewritten again and again by a man who treated evolution like a sandbox. Jordan had seen it once before, but seeing it again so casually made his bones vibrate.

The flock screeched.

Bruce lifted a hand lazily. Silence.

Every single Steelquill Raven flew into its cage, landing with military precision. Not a single feather fell out of place. Not one bird dared resist.

Jordan swallowed hard. ’What kind of man creates life like this and treats it as routine?’

Only one thought echoed in his head. ’If I had this ability, I would be a king by now.’

But while countless business plans he could do with this ability detonated in Jordan’s greedy imagination—beast ranching, elite transport contracts, dungeon mount rentals—Bruce was already moving on, bored.

He picked up a single strand of silky black fur.

Night Cat.

Once again, life unfolded in his hands. He did not chant. He did not strain. He just created.

Tiny feline forms erged from nothing, growing sleek and deadly under his Heal. One after another, their slit pupils glead in the dim shop light, silent assassins by nature. Yet when Bruce flicked his wrist, they obediently padded into cages without a sound.

Jordan had sold Night Cats before. They were temperantal, violent, and hard to ta. They mauled most handlers.

Yet these ones behaved like disciplined war beasts. Loyal. Focused. Perfectly conditioned.

Jordan’s jaw clenched. This was not just power. This was command. Absolute command.

Bruce did not pause. He reached for the next material—a strip of matted, blood-stained hide.

Blood Hound.

A beast mutated by carnage. Vicious. Frenzied. Known to chew steel and gnaw through bone.

Yet when Bruce touched the hide, the scent of blood filled the shop. Then ca the bark of newborn pups, and soon after, the low rumble of fully grown beasts.

A small pack of Blood Hounds stood in neat formation before him, muscles rippling beneath their fur, fangs dripping with mist. But their eyes were calm.

They looked at Bruce like soldiers awaiting orders. And then he silently ordered them to move to to their respective cages. They silently obeyed his orders...

Jordan’s breath hitched. No matter how many tis I see this, it is always awe-inspiring...

Finally ca the Stone Lizards. Thick hide. Long forked tongues. Living shields that could shrug off arrows and blades alike.

Ten minutes passed.

Rows of living beasts now stretched before Bruce, perfectly grown, perfectly calm. Perfectly his.

Jordan did not realize he had been holding his breath until his knees nearly buckled.

Bruce dusted his hands, his gaze cold and unreadable. This was nothing to him. Nothing.

The Stone Lizards slithered obediently into their cages, long tongues flicking in and out as if tasting the air for orders. Not a hiss. Not a scrape. Total discipline.

Jordan, unable to contain himself anymore, rushed forward and began closing the cage doors one after another with trembling excitent.

Grinning like a crack addict who had just found an endless supply, he muttered under his breath, "My babies, my beautiful, precious money-makers. Yes, yes, settle in. Daddy Jordan has food for all of you. Just wait."

Bruce ignored his theatrics and moved on to the final stack of beast parts.

What followed next was thirty more minutes of silent insanity.

Fragnts beca flesh. Cells beca life. Wild mutant creatures bent to Bruce’s will as if he were rewriting reality itself. By the ti he was done, every cage in the shop was stuffed to capacity, stacked wall to wall with restored, fully grown, combat-ready beasts.

Jordan did not even bother hiding his awe anymore. This was not just a money fountain standing before him. This was a walking gold mine.

Bruce moved to a python-like mutant beast next. Thirty minutes later, he was done. Every single cage in the stall was filled. Mutant beasts of all kinds now breathed and lived where only scraps had been before.

Bruce still had mana to spare. He could have kept going. But Jordan, despite looking like a child in a candy castle, finally raised a hand to stop him.

"All right, that is enough," Jordan said, struggling to sound calm but failing to hide the excitent trembling in his voice. "As much as I would love to squeeze out more beasts, we need to be careful. If I suddenly unleash a flood of the sa species into the market, other rchants will get suspicious. I still like being alive, so this is enough for now."

"So it is like that," Bruce said with a sigh. Then he added casually, "I have decided sothing, Jordan. Starting today, I am increasing the price of each beast by ten percent."

Jordan’s smile died on the spot.

He stared blankly for two full seconds, then made the face of a man being mugged by fate itself. Bruce patted him on the shoulder like he was consoling a grieving widow.

"Relax," Bruce said calmly. "It is a temporary increase. Just until I decide I do not need money anymore."

"You are a bully, Sir Bruce. You know that, right?" Jordan muttered bitterly. He rubbed his temples, exhaled, and reluctantly nodded. "Fine. I will buy them. Your price."

He did not even bother negotiating. He could tell Bruce was not in the mood, and Jordan was not stupid. If there was one thing he did not want to lose, it was this partnership. Even with the increase cutting deep into his profits, it was still worth it. He could manage.

Better a smaller fortune today than no fortune tomorrow.