Even after leaving the tool with the blacksmith, I kept sketching and brainstorming in case there were modifications to be made.
Come to think of it, I'd been in such a hurry earlier—what if it turned out poorly after being made?
So, even after returning home—well, strictly speaking, my senior's house—I couldn't sleep for a while.
'So… if we do it like this. Hmm. Even then… completely removing it would still be difficult…'
There's a tool called a debrider.
Naturally, it's an electric device—step on a pedal, and it spins wildly, grinding away tissue.
Honestly, I hadn't used it much myself.
It's more of an ENT or similar specialty tool than something for general surgery.
Anyway, after sketching it out, I realized that no matter how much I twisted and turned it, removing even half the prostate's volume wouldn't be easy.
Which meant… recurrence would likely happen quickly.
But that wasn't the only problem.
'There'd probably be a lot of bleeding too, right?'
It's not like it coagulates on its own.
It's literally tearing tissue raw—how could it not bleed?
Pain during the procedure could be managed with anesthesia for 20 or 30 minutes, but…
The bleeding would be an issue.
'Is it an area that clots well?'
Not knowing was part of the problem.
After nasal surgery, you just pack it, and the bleeding stops—but that's because you can still breathe through your mouth.
I couldn't exactly tell a patient, "For the next few days, please urinate through your anus—we'd really appreciate it."
'The wound would be exposed, raising the risk of infection when urinating.'
Urine is practically sterile—you could almost call it a germ-free liquid.
If someone argued, "No, I've seen tests where bacteria grew," I'd first ask if they'd collected a midstream sample properly.
Or maybe they had an undiagnosed infection.
Either way, I could confidently say it's sterile…
But if urine got on an open wound, it could still act as a culture medium.
Even if there were no bacteria or only a negligible amount, infection could still occur.
In the end, I reached one conclusion.
"A catheter it is, then…"
A urinary catheter—a tube inserted through the urethra into the bladder to allow urine to drain.
I don't know if anyone's ever touched one, but…
Common sense says you wouldn't make something like that out of hard material, right?
Right?
That'd be torture.
'But can we even make it out of rubber…?'
It couldn't be metal, but when I thought about alternatives, nothing came to mind.
The closest thing I had were my gloves…
But they weren't smooth, uniform rubber.
I didn't know how they were processed, but unlike the rubber I was used to, they were bumpy.
I worried if this might negatively affect condoms too, but oddly, users sometimes preferred them that way.
I didn't get it, so I ignored it for now…
'It needs to be firmer than this. Soft enough to be comfortable but rigid enough to maintain its shape…'
Wow…
Who knew catheters had such intricate engineering behind them?
Back when I had them, I just shoved them in without a second thought…
Guess you don't appreciate things until they're gone.
'I'll have to squeeze the chemist for ideas.'
The frustrating part was that racking my brain alone was useless.
I was a complete layman when it came to chemistry, so of course.
If I knew nothing at all, it'd be different…
But knowing what the end product should be made it all the more maddening.
'If it doesn't work… then so be it.'
If the chemist couldn't pull it off, I'd have to use a metal tube for a couple of days…
"Hey, wake up!"
I must've been thinking about asking for that too, because suddenly, it was morning.
I must've passed out—understandable, given how exhausted I'd been yesterday.
Running around as the so-called *Butcher* who recklessly castrated people, then visiting the blacksmith…
"Ugh… ow."
"What's this? Wow… Did you draw all this before sleeping?"
"Huh? Yeah. I was worried."
"You… are a damn good doctor. No wonder you made professor so fast."
Joseph, who'd come to wake me, clicked his tongue as he looked at the scraps of paper on the desk.
No surprise—there were at least twenty sketches from last night.
Because of that, I'd even dreamed about inserting a catheter.
People usually dream about the military, but for me, that was way more terrifying.
"Where's the senior?"
"He already went downstairs."
"He's amazing…"
"His father's scary. He's got an inheritance to think about—or at least a fortune to manage."
"Right…"
What can you say about 19th-century rich people?
Do they have… romance?
Anyway, to protect their wealth and status, they had to live disciplined lives—waking up early, hunting, horseback riding, that sort of thing.
Alfred was dedicated to medicine instead of sports, but…
'My trust-fund friends back home did nothing…'
Probably because they hadn't yet realized the harsh truth: doing nothing and just owning land could make you richer than those working like ants.
Not that I could blame them—it was a good thing.
I hurried downstairs.
There, I found Alfred already sipping tea after reading the newspaper.
"Here, eat."
"Ah, thanks. Um… before school today, can we stop by the factory?"
"The factory? Why?"
I showed him the last sketch I'd made yesterday.
"Ugh."
It was a grotesque drawing no matter the time of day, so his face twisted.
That was fine.
He'd have to assist anyway.
No—more than that, this might end up being Alfred's specialty.
'He has a narrow field of vision, but… his focus is excellent. This kind of surgery might suit him.'
For a surgeon, especially one dealing with broad areas, a narrow field of vision could be fatal.
Sure, surgery had subspecialties, some with narrower scopes, but now wasn't the time for that…
Anyway, despite that flaw, he was terrifyingly meticulous when focused.
How did I know?
From anatomy lab.
He was a mess overall, but the area he was dissecting? Flawless.
"So, we might need this as an additional tool."
"Huh… You came up with this just by thinking?"
"Well… yeah."
"Wow."
I explained everything from start to finish.
Partly because I was good at explaining, but also because Alfred had been learning to think like a doctor under my guidance. He understood immediately.
"Alright, let's go. But he might not be there."
"Huh?"
"He's rich now… Doesn't work much, I hear."
"He doesn't work? But…"
"We've hired other chemists as successors, so it's fine… But apparently, he's mostly attending social events now."
"Ah, socializing."
Well…
In this era, to truly succeed in Britain, it wasn't just about money—you had to network relentlessly.
I wasn't at that level yet, so I could only listen from the sidelines…
But it wasn't like I could blame him for not working.
Hell, maybe he was part of the FIRE movement?
"But if we go, he'll be there, right? Someone who can work with rubber?"
"Yeah."
"Then let's go."
"Sure. You're done eating already?"
"Ah, yeah."
"You're already skinny—why aren't you eating?"
"Well…"
This was 100% the Brits' fault.
Before coming here, I thought British food was just a meme.
But…
No…
These people clearly had something seriously wrong with them.
How else…
Could the only edible thing be grilled meat?
"Just not hungry today."
I made a mental note to invent K-style chicken later…
And considering it part of national health improvement in the broadest sense, I headed to the factory.
"Ah, you!"
"I heard you weren't coming in?"
"Haha, well, I still show my face sometimes."
Surprisingly, the chemist was there.
He didn't seem to be doing much, but…
Instead of going home, he followed us into the meeting room with some young, eager chemists.
Calling it a meeting room was generous—it was just a space next to the factory, reeking of rubber.
But with the sole purpose of relieving human suffering, I launched into my passionate explanation.
"This can't come out once it's in. If it does, you'd have to reinsert it."
"Ugh."
"That's a no-go."
Everyone listened intently.
The chemist, especially, was fired up.
Like it wasn't just someone else's problem.
"So, at the tip… we'd need this mechanism. Is it possible?"
"Hmm… It'd be tough."
"A completely different rubber layer would have to be added… That's…"
Unfortunately, the inflatable balloon to keep it from slipping out was a no-go.
Honestly, even as I drew it, I had doubts.
If we weren't even sure about the catheter itself, how could this work?
"Then… can we make rubber that's firm enough to maintain its shape inside but not so hard it causes severe discomfort? Oh, and rigid enough to keep the urine passage open."
"Hmm…"
"This might be doable…"
They all looked serious, then started hauling out piles of rubber from the factory.
Now that I saw it…
These guys were dead serious about condoms—they'd made all sorts of products.
"We've been trying to make thinner, smoother ones… that don't tear. These are the failed prototypes. But I think they're not failures—just waiting for the right use. See the tags? They explain how they were made."
"Wow…"
The chemist was the most passionate of all.
As I marveled at the sheer volume of rubber, he leaned in with a slightly hesitant whisper.
"But…"
"Yes?"
"They say you can just cut off the balls. Why go through all this trouble?"
Damn it…
Had the rumors spread here too?