Oda Nobunaga is here?
Harano was a little surprised, but as he was yanked off balance, he happened to tug at Jyuubee’s broken leg too. Jyuubee imdiately let out another wail, practically declaring that living through this pain was worse than death and begging them to just finish him off already, to spare him all this suffering.
Harano snapped back to attention, hurriedly pushed Ah Man aside, and went back to focusing on his work. Offhandedly, he said, "Tell them to wait a bit. As soon as I’m done here, I’ll go over."
"Forget about his leg for now!" Ah Man was still in a panic, no longer caring about Jyuubee’s life or death—Jyuubee was worth nothing anyway. Right now, she just wanted to discuss a ga plan with Harano ASAP. If he was willing to beco a Household Retainer, that’d be best; Oda Nobunaga might be a lunatic, but he was filthy rich, so serving him wouldn’t be too shabby. But if Harano refused, then they’d really need to figure out an escape plan!
At the very least, they’d have to turn him down nicely, dress it up a little, avoid pissing off that nutjob.
Yeah, she had absolutely zero faith in Harano’s "tact." If they didn’t have a good talk and so reminders, she really felt like she’d end up hauling his corpse away later.
Harano, with nothing better to do, had imagined dozens of ways he might et Oda Nobunaga; so right now he could still keep his cool, eyes focused as he said in a flat tone, "Don’t freak out. It’s not as bad as you think. Nothing big’s going to happen."
"...You guy..." Ah Man was at her wits’ end. Seeing how useless he was—acting like nothing was wrong—she cursed him silently and dashed back to get so things ready. If Oda Nobunaga really wanted to blow Harano’s head off later, at least she could cause a distraction and give him a chance to get away.
If Harano hadn’t always treated her decently, honestly, she and Ah Qing would probably be hiding off sowhere, waiting to see how things turned out before shalessly popping back out for a free al. There’s no way she’d be this worried about him otherwise.
If Harano didn’t make her at least a couple of chickens after this, it’d be a cri against her hard work!
......
It took Harano another quarter of an hour to finish dealing with Jyuubee’s wounds and splint his leg. He didn’t worry one bit about Oda Nobunaga getting impatient—after all, he was a "divine doctor with a benevolent heart" now, and it wouldn’t do to ruin that persona. No one’s ever heard of a doctor who abandons a patient in the middle of surgery just to curry favor with so bigwig. If he tried sothing like that, Oda Nobunaga’s first impression would probably tank even further.
He was just wiping his hands, mulling over how to interact with Oda Nobunaga, and what he should watch out for, when soone next to him suddenly asked, "Will he live?"
As the voice spoke, the person reached out, looking like he wanted to press on Jyuubee’s wound to test the bandaging. Harano instinctively grabbed his wrist, then looked up to see Oda Nobunaga in full "Beggar Gang Disciple" mode standing right there.
Not what he’d expected—in 99% of later Japanese works, Oda Nobunaga is always a "peerless overlord"—always portrayed as tall and strong, with a sharp gaze and a predatory air. But the real thing in front of Harano? Not even close. Maybe tall-ish for Japan, but his eyes were more sullen, and he wore a mocking, devil-may-care grin, like he was always ready to lob a few sarcastic remarks or pick a fight.
If he had to compare, Harano thought he looked more like a delinquent gang boss from modern day—if this guy stuck a cigarette in his mouth and dyed his hair blond, he’d be dead-on.
Harano sized Nobunaga up for a second, then let go of his wrist and said coolly, "If he gets proper rest and avoids any further injuries, he should live."
"Really?" Oda Nobunaga didn’t seem bothered by the rudeness, still eyeing the now-mummified Jyuubee.
On the way here, he’d checked out Jyuubee’s wounds himself—they were so bad, he figured there was a seventy-thirty chance, and if a fever set in, it was almost certain death. He’d seen plenty of cases like this all his life. But Harano’s reply felt much more confident, so he eyed him with suspicion. "What dicine did you use? Sothing special?"
In truth, Harano hadn’t used anything special. He wasn’t about to waste real antibiotics on Jyuubee—instead, he borrowed a page from the "Lamp Goddess" Nightingale playbook: ticulously cleaning away any filth from the wound, bandaging with boiled, disinfected gauze and changing the dressing often, wiping out rats and fleas at the clinic, keeping the place clean and ventilated, and making sure patients got clean bed sheets every day, and so on.
In short—good hygiene.
This simple thod, according to legend, allowed Nightingale to bring the British field hospital death rate down from over 42% to 2.2%. With no antibiotics in her day, it was a miracle. Harano was copying it now: just treat Jyuubee like a seriously wounded patient and keep him clean. The risk of dying from infected wounds should be way, way lower—so he genuinely believed Jyuubee might make it.
But there was no way he was going to explain all that to Oda Nobunaga. The odds were ninety-nine to one, Nobunaga was totally clueless about dicine. So he just said, "An external dicine passed down in my family."
As expected, Oda Nobunaga didn’t get it, but seeing how carefully Jyuubee was bandaged, how clean those gauze wraps looked, it was miles better than a gory ss. He figured Jyuubee’s odds of survival had just climbed to fifty-fifty. He nodded, just a little—it was too soon to say, but he’d be keeping an eye on this and would see for himself if Jyuubee really pulled through.
"It’s filthy here, and the wounded will need ti to recover. This way, my lord, please have a seat inside!" Harano, seeing that Nobunaga had no more questions, gestured him indoors.
Oda Nobunaga gave a noncommittal nod and turned to leave. Harano followed behind, greeting Maeda Toshie and Ikegami Keisuke at the door. Ikegami Keisuke returned the salute politely, while Maeda Toshie winked and gave a big grin, showing off a row of gleaming white teeth.
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