Yamada’s nightmare-level hospital stay was finally on the last lap. He could practically taste the crappy instant ramen and feel the freedom of his own skeevy apartment. But before he could even do a victory dance, his final-duty dynamic duo rolled in. We’re talking Otsuka-chan, a nurse built like a brick house who probably wrestled bears for fun, and Dr. Amamiya, the mad scientist’s. Her mind was a fireworks show in a the rain, and he treated the library’s hush like a command to yell louder.
Dr. Amamiya, hyped up on like, six energy drinks and the thrill of discovery. Otsuka-chan, loyal as a golden retriever but with the finesse of a wrecking ball, got to work on Yamada’s “sample collection.” She was fumbling around down there like she was trying to solve a Rubik’s cube in the dark.
Dr. Amamiya watched this circus with all the patience of a dude’s that you could serve him cold spaghetti and he’d just assume it was a fancy dish. Finally, she snapped. “For science!” she probably yelled, pushing the rookie nurse, Otsuka-chan aside on the bench. The doc then unleashed her secret techniques—movements so precise and devastating they’d make a ninja slips on the floor.
When the results popped up on her screen, the doc lost her entire mind. She started cackling like she’d just won the Nobel Prize in Weirdness. She’d discovered some never-before-seen disease, and Yamada was the golden goose. Or, more accurately, the golden faucet. His nightmare wasn’t over, it was getting a sequel. “Bring him to the lab!” she screeched at Otsuka-chan, her eyes glowing with manic joy. The next thing Yamada knew, he was being wheeled outta there, not toward freedom, but toward a dark basement lab for an encore performance. A transfer to a whole new level of hell. As they carted him away, the doc screamed her victory cry “5・9・6・3! Great work, sucker!” Yamada’s soul left his body.
