SSS-Ranked Surgeon In Another World: The Healer Is Actually OP! - Chapter 260: At the Summit Of Power!
Chapter 260: At the Summit Of Power!
Bruce stepped outside, pausing just long enough to look back.
“Ash,” he said calmly, “look after Lily and Mom.”
Ash nodded without hesitation.
Bruce turned, and sprinted.
The moment his foot hit the ground, the world blurred.
The streets vanished behind him. Buildings smeared into indistinct streaks of color. The ground cracked faintly beneath each step as he accelerated beyond what the eye could track.
The Wind howled.
In five minutes, he crossed over a hundred thousand kilometers.
Even then, he knew he could’ve done it faster, two, maybe three minutes at most, but he’d had to slow down occasionally, checking the map overlay on his bracelet to confirm direction. At that speed, a single wrong turn could send him hundreds of kilometers off course.
Still, five minutes was more than enough.
The Adventurer Guild’s main base rose into view, colossal and imposing, its structure radiating authority and power. Bruce slowed just enough to enter without incident, his momentum bleeding away as naturally as it had come.
No hesitation. No delay.
He stepped through the entrance immediately. The meeting was about to begin.
The moment Bruce stepped inside, swirling light orbs of different colors washed over his vision, their glow refracting off polished stone and carved walls as shifting hues danced across the interior.
He took it in with a calm, sweeping glance. Nothing had changed. It was just as he remembered.
The entrance level was still a pub, loud, crowded, and alive in that uniquely reckless way only adventurers could manage. Music pulsed through the air in uneven beats, mugs clashed against scarred wooden tables, and rough laughter rang out as men and women who faced death daily tried to drink it away.
Some danced without rhythm, others argued loudly over old dungeon runs, and more than a few simply sat slumped over their drinks, eyes distant, minds elsewhere. This place wasn’t refined, and it wasn’t meant to be. It was where stress came to die.
Bruce walked straight through it all.
He didn’t slow his pace as conversations faltered mid-sentence and eyes drifted toward him. There was no visible aura flaring, no deliberate intimidation, yet his presence alone seemed to carve a quiet path through the chaos. Not silence, just awareness. Heads turned. Laughter dipped. Even the music felt a fraction less intrusive as he passed.
A few drunk female adventurers noticed him almost immediately.
One leaned lazily into his path, blocking him for a heartbeat, her smile crooked and confident.
“Hey, handsome,” she said, voice thick with alcohol and amusement. “How about having some fun with me?”
Bruce didn’t answer. He didn’t even acknowledge her existence. He stepped past her as if she were nothing more than air.
Another laughed softly behind him, clearly entertained rather than offended, and reached out as he passed, fingers tracing a lazy, suggestive line across his back. “You’re no fun if you don’t dance, you know.”
Still, Bruce didn’t look back. Not because he was angry. Not because he was offended. He simply had no interest.
The noise of the pub faded as he crossed into the elevator corridor, the atmosphere shifting abruptly. The air here was cleaner, cooler, the polished stone walls unmarred by spilled ale or careless boots. The contrast was sharp, chaos behind him, order ahead.
Someone was already waiting.
“Sir Bruce.”
Lucen stepped forward the instant he spotted him. The guild official straightened reflexively and bowed with practiced respect, his posture crisp, expression professional, though there was no mistaking the caution and deference in his eyes.
“I’ve been expecting you,” Lucen said. He didn’t waste time with pleasantries. Reaching out, he tapped a glowing control button set into the wall.
The elevator doors slid open in complete silence.
“Please,” Lucen continued, stepping aside. “This will take you directly to the highest level.”
Bruce nodded once, the acknowledgment subtle but sufficient. He stepped inside without hesitation.
The doors closed behind him, sealing away the distant music, the laughter, the smell of alcohol and sweat. In its place came the soft hum of mana as the elevator activated, rising smoothly, deliberately, carrying him upward through layers of stone and authority alike.
Bruce stood motionless as the floors passed beneath him, hands relaxed at his sides, gaze steady. His mind was already elsewhere, turning over possibilities, anticipating resistance, calculating outcomes.
The ascent was quiet.
By the time the elevator neared its destination, there was no trace of the pub left, only polished power, sealed doors, and people who believed they held the future in their hands.
The real discussion was waiting at the top.
The moment the elevator doors slid open, Bruce felt it, not as a sudden impact, but as a weight that had always been there, quietly acknowledged. Seven auras. All SSS-rank. They pressed down subtly, not hostile, not aggressive, but undeniably present. Like seven unmoving mountains, standing still and watching.
Bruce stepped out.
The space beyond the doors was far more restrained than one might expect. Open. Wide. Almost austere. It felt less like a conference room and more like a balcony carved into the highest point of the Adventurer Guild’s towering spire. Tall pillars framed the area at measured intervals, and beyond them the city of Valkrin stretched endlessly into the distance, its streets and districts layered like a living map. Fresh air swept in occasionally, carrying faint traces of mana and the whisper of wind from far below.
From here, one could see far and wide.
For most people, such a view would have stolen their breath.
For Bruce, who had flown far higher with Lily on Ash’s back, it was merely adequate.
His attention shifted from the scenery to the people waiting for him.
Five men. Two women.
They sat spaced evenly around a large circular table, each presence distinct enough to feel without looking directly at them. One radiated sharpness, like a drawn blade resting just beneath the skin. Another carried a cold restraint that seeped into the air around them. One was so calm it bordered on oppressive, a stillness so complete it felt deliberate. None of them spoke. None of them wasted movement. They were watching him, not with curiosity, but with evaluation.
Bale was surprisingly not among them.
