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

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

At some 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 amusement while lazily swirling the liquor in her own glass.

Torren was halfway through retelling the same hunting story for the third time, each retelling somehow adding an additional thirty meters to the size of the monster he claimed 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 frame 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 movements were calm and unhurried, the quiet rhythm of someone 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.

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

Torren was halfway through an extremely 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 slammed 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 slammed 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 time it did.

The memories returned.

The trial.

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

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

One after another.

Dots vanishing from the map.

Team members 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 memory with painful clarity.

Silent.

Unavoidable.

Like a shadow stepping out of another shadow.

No wasted movement.

No anger.

No emotion.

Just efficiency.

The moment he appeared behind her she had understood something 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 same.

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.

Some 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 message notification.

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

The sender name appeared.

Sophie.

Bruce blinked once.

Then opened the message.

Immediately he noticed several missed calls stacked above the newest message.

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 meant.

The calls had never reached him.

The newest message appeared on the screen.

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