Ultraman: It turns out this is the easy mode.

The attending physician slowly took out his phone, tapped the screen with his finger, and turned to face the bed.

The photo shows Rokubungi Gendo, possessed by Dark Zagi, taking a dump.
Anyway, the location of the hemorrhoids on the sextant is very clear, without any blurring!
The photo was taken from an extremely unfortunate angle, clearly capturing his distorted profile and awkward posture. The source of the photo appears to be an anonymous individual who simultaneously sent it to multiple media outlets, with no clues as to who leaked it.

"The total number of views across the internet has already exceeded five million." The attending physician's voice was as calm as if he were reading a lab report. "The poster's identity is unknown, but all the forums are discussing the authenticity of this photo. The medical school forum is voting on whether your current head position makes it easier to perform certain traditional treatments. After all, judging from the photo, that part of your head already has multiple functions."

Rokufengi Gendo's pupils contracted to pinpoints, his upside-down face turned a deep liver color, and veins throbbed at his temples. He struggled violently on the hospital bed, the restraints digging deep into his flesh: "This is a lie! This is a frame-up! Delete those photos! Delete them immediately! Investigate! Find out who did this! I'll tear him to pieces!"

"The number of reposts is still rising, and your former subordinates have posted a lot of comments." The attending physician put his phone back in his pocket and looked down at the medical record, making notes. "Just now, an anonymous email was sent to the hospital's public email address, with a high-resolution version of the original video attached. The photographer's identity is marked as unknown. In addition, your organization's technician, Maya Ibuki, just called to ask if she could grant access to the live stream during your surgery. She said she wanted to make a donation."

Sunlight streamed through the blinds, casting striped shadows on the floor. Rokubungi Gendo's breathing became rapid and erratic. He realized that the snickers, the strange looks, and the doctors' deliberate delays all stemmed from this. Someone had ruined his body, and destroyed the prestige and image he had cultivated for decades, and he didn't know who the enemy was, only able to let out useless roars at the void.

"Give me the phone. Connect me to NERV headquarters. I want to kill that beast with my own hands. Give it to me!" Rokubungi Gendo's voice grew weaker and weaker, and the lines on the monitor began to distort. His inverted eyes stared intently at the ceiling, as if he could see the photos that were spreading wildly on the internet, the scene of his former subordinates clutching their stomachs and laughing, and the theocratic empire that he had painstakingly built collapsing into pieces.

The attending physician pressed the call button and calmly said into the microphone, "Notify the psychiatry department that the patient may be experiencing a paranoid anger attack. Also, contact the photographer from the New England Journal of Medicine and have them come as soon as possible; the patient's facial expressions have extremely high academic documentation value."

"You damned bastards! What do you take me for?!"

Sextans Gendo's voice boomed from beneath the covers, a metallic, hoarse sound. His body thrashed violently beneath the restraints, crumpling the white sheets. The monitor emitted a piercing alarm, red numbers flashing wildly on the screen. Dark purple energy ripples spread from the severed neck, writhing in the air like living things.

The attending physician took a half step back, his glasses reflecting a cold light. He raised his tablet, pointed the camera at the contorted body on the hospital bed, and tapped the shutter button repeatedly. In the live feed on the screen, the sextant's upside-down face was purplish-red, its eyes bulging, and saliva dripping from the corner of its mouth onto the pillow.

"The best material ever! Mr. Sextant, look at yourself now! A miracle of the human body!"

Interns crowded at the doorway, the hems of their white coats fluttering in the wind. Someone held up a phone to record, the lens steadily pointed at the hospital bed. A nurse leaned against the wall, her fingers covering her mouth, her shoulders heaving. Deliberately hushed whispers drifted down the corridor, and several figures in military uniforms moved about outside the glass windows, peering inside.

"You f***ing!!!" Rokubungi Gendo tried to sit up, his arm muscles taut. The restraints dug deep into his flesh, leaving purplish-red marks. He tried to turn his head, but there was no space at his cervical spine. The movement caused his torso to fold backward, his waist arching upward, his knees pressing against his chest. His head swayed from side to side at his hip position, his hair brushing against the sheets, the dark purple ripples flashing violently.

He wanted to kill someone.

His fingers clenched into fists, his nails digging deep into his palms, beads of blood seeping from between them. But his body was firmly locked to the bed by the restraints, each struggle causing the straps to groan as they stretched. He wanted to pounce on the attending physician holding the recording pen, to tear apart the interns holding their phones, to snap the throats of every person who laughed.

But it's a pity
He looks like this now.
The body was folded into a bizarre arc, the spine arched backward. Legs were strapped to the foot of the bed, knees forced apart. The torso was folded upward, chest almost touching thighs. The head was positioned at the buttocks, face towards the ceiling, eyes only able to see the fluorescent light tubes and vents overhead. Dark purple energy flowed at the fracture, maintaining this anatomically unnatural state of being.

There was simply no way to move.
Rokubungi Gendo slammed his fist on the bed with a dull thud. The mattress springs creaked, his body bounced a few centimeters up, then fell heavily back down. The restraints remained unmoved. He opened his mouth and let out a silent roar, his inverted face contorted in agony, his eyes bloodshot as if they were about to burst from their sockets.

The intern leaned close to the attending physician's ear, his voice low yet clearly audible: "Professor, his blood pressure readings are absolutely perfect. He's managing to maintain brain oxygenation even in this position."

The attending physician nodded, quickly taking notes on the tablet, the pen tip swishing across the screen: "Prepare a long-term observation plan. This yoga-like folded body position, combined with head displacement, is simply a goldmine for live anatomy."

Rokubungi Gendo's chest heaved violently, his breath coming from below with a heavy, wet echo. He wanted to raise his hands to grab those people's throats, but his arms were fixed to his sides, leaving him only able to grasp at the air in vain. He wanted to turn his neck to glare at those who were mocking him, but his head was fixed in that humiliating position, and all he could see were cracks and cobwebs on the ceiling.

Sunlight streamed through the blinds, casting striped shadows on the floor. Rokubungi Gendo's inverted eyes were fixed on those shadows, as if they were his only target.

"You! You!!!! Kiro, save me!!!!"

Meanwhile, on the Jilu side...
"A sextant?" (End of Chapter)