I couldn't just run away like that, as my girls woke up and demanded my attention, suffering from the same hangover symptoms as I had just a little earlier. They didn't even bother about their clothing—or rather, its complete absence—and the fact that there was a similar neighbor nearby. Getting rid of these trifles took just a couple of seconds.
"My presence is needed in the infirmary, so I'm off," I informed the kunoichi, once I was sure they could perceive their surroundings. Without waiting for a response, I dashed out of the tent, only slowing down briefly at the threshold. "Oh, and thanks for the wonderful night!"
Out of the corner of my eye, I managed to catch Tsume's stunned expression, gradually turning as red as a ripe tomato. Hyuga just smirked contentedly and winked in response to my statement.
Nearly sprinting to the critically wounded, I immediately began diagnostics, trying not to interfere with Chifuyu's actions. Akamichi's body was indeed rejecting foreign flesh, which had been transplanted instead of the liver destroyed on the battlefield. It would have been fine if the replacement had been completely unsuitable, but I had deliberately chosen a donor with a matching blood type to make the adaptation easier and gentler for the shinobi.
However, the former chubby guy managed to use two of the three forbidden pills before receiving such a serious injury, and he was in extreme physical and chakra exhaustion, now lying unconscious on intravenous nutrition. Thus, his weakened body couldn't properly assimilate the new organ, starting to reject it.
Moreover, after a thorough examination, I discovered a small error of my own, caused more by lack of attention at the time—while the donor's blood type matched Akamichi's, the chakra predisposition was Earth Release instead of the necessary Water Release or at least Fire Release.
Water can overcome Earth only with overwhelming superiority; otherwise, it turns out the opposite, as it did in this case. Cursing, I gestured for my assistant to continue supporting the wounded, while I retrieved a tightly rolled scroll the size of an elbow from my pocket and, unfurling it, began searching for the required seal.
"Alright, eyes, heart, kidneys, hands... aha, liver!"
Finding the necessary signature, I retrieved a scroll half the size and three meters long, carefully scanning through the preserved organs, scrutinizing my own clumsy notes on the margins just aside from the drawn seals.
Any city dweller or ordinary resident of the Land of Fire would almost certainly condemn such an attitude towards fallen enemies (not to mention the squealing about humanism from the past), but for me, a more or less intact enemy body was just a set of spare parts. Yes, I have been working as a butcher since I was eight, entrusted to handle quite complex cases, so I simply don't perceive corpses as former people.
There are the living and the dead, and the latter no longer care. But their bodies can still save the living, and the fact that they are our former enemies only eases my not particularly active conscience but greatly satisfies my sense of justice, however hypertrophied it may be.
After about the twentieth, I finally found a suitable replacement, though it belonged to a woman, not a man... Well, if it takes hold properly, then screw it—this isn't a heart or lung, which might fail under stress in a larger body. The main thing is to observe for a couple of months after the transplant and periodically stimulate the liver for better optimization.
Unrolling the organ, I cautiously took the replacement, wrapped in a thin layer of chakra (What did you expect? In field conditions, you can't properly disinfect or ensure the sterility of your tools, so you have to resort to sterile chakra), and commanded my assistant to prepare for surgery.
Uchiha stopped blood circulation on both sides of the barely visible scar, and with one swift motion, I opened it. Then she closed the liver's connecting vessels to the bloodstream and with a pair of finger movements, removed it.
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