Cherreads

Chapter 134 - Chapter 133: Improvement (4)

Clatter. Clatter.

The carriage soon headed toward Sir Jamie's estate.

Thanks to Dr. Liston's wealth, it was a fine vehicle—though now tainted by a foul odor far worse than before.

Hugh.

A man who'd spent his life at sea until a severe injury forced him ashore. Sailors in this era weren't known for gentleness—surviving storms, strange climates, and foreign lands on a diet of grog instead of water didn't breed refinement.

Yet here he was, trembling like a leaf.

Every word he spoke mixed his natural stench with the reek of decay. I clenched my teeth.

'Dental hygiene… He's definitely never heard of brushing.'

Distracting myself helped.

Liston, however, bore the brunt of Hugh's breath head-on. His face twisted, but as a 19th-century surgeon, he'd endured worse.

"You'll testify directly. Best for everyone."

"B-but… nobles, sir—"

"No balls, no courage? That's new for you. Fits our argument, though."

"N-no! It's not like—"

Liston expertly needled Hugh, who sputtered in panic rather than anger.

"Quit sighing. Want to die here?"

"S-sorry."

"Face the window when you speak."

"That's too—"

"Too is your breath. You took our money—cooperate."

Defeated, Hugh turned to the window. The hefty payment (a month's wages for most laborers) likely softened the humiliation.

For all his roughness, Liston compensated generously.

---

Sir Jamie's Estate

We reached London's elite district. Sir Jamie's mansion stood prominently—guarded by actual soldiers, not mere watchmen.

'No wonder even Liston hesitated.'

Against common thugs, he'd have barged in. But these were armed regulars.

"Dr. Liston, London College of Medicine."

"Ah! The dissection-show professor! And this must be Dr. Pyeong?"

The guard recognized me.

"You… know me?"

"Of course! That carnival of yours was the best entertainment in years."

Liston bowed slightly—uncharacteristically polite. With police, he had leverage. Here, missteps meant disaster.

"Is there… a surgical complication?"

The guard's assumption sped things along. Liston and I exchanged glances: Better to enter first, explain later.

"Yes. A critical error."

"Ah, a house call! My apologies—please proceed."

The guard saluted and stepped aside, though he eyed Hugh with distaste.

The "dissection show" (a grim label) had clearly boosted my reputation beyond expectations.

'Good. This gives us leverage. Maybe we should schedule another…'

Princess Victoria's orders would force one soon anyway. And with royal backing, cadavers wouldn't be an issue.

I'd have preferred practicing my planned prostate surgery, but performing it before Her Highness seemed… unwise.

---

The Mansion

We crossed immaculate gardens to the entrance, where a stern butler intercepted us.

"Damn," I muttered. "He looks solid."

Liston smirked. "My scalpel'll pierce him."

"You're not actually drawing it, right?"

"Prison doesn't appeal to me."

We dismounted as the butler scowled.

"State your business."

Instead of answering directly, we led with titles:

"Dr. Liston, Professor of Surgery, London College."

"Dr. Pyeong, also a professor."

The butler's expression thawed slightly.

"Why are you here?"

"Harry the Butcher," Liston said.

"Butcher? We know him as an esteemed—if experimental—surgeon. Our master is quite satisfied."

Sir Jamie was already beyond help.

"That procedure… has severe drawbacks," I cut in. "Others plan to undergo it—they must be stopped. We've brought proof."

The butler's nose wrinkled at Hugh.

"Another noble—Damian—is here," I pressed. "The surgery cannot proceed."

"Dr. Liston and Dr. Pyeong are respected, but uninvited guests—"

"Listen!" Liston roared. "This is medical malpractice! Harry's a lunatic!"

The butler flinched. Medical authority always carried weight—even more so when factual.

"Please," I begged. "We implore you."

Relenting, the butler warned: "No disturbances. The master is recovering."

---

The Chamber

Through opulent halls, we reached a second-floor room. Hugh, petrified, trailed silently.

Inside, Harry—his previously bound limbs now free—held court.

"They tried to kill me! Jealousy, plain and—"

On the bed lay Sir Jamie, flanked by three young nobles (likely sons) and an uncomfortable older man—Damian?

Harry hadn't noticed us yet.

"—slandering me as a 'butcher'! Thankfully, Sir Jamie intervened—"

"Hah! I heard Liston was bold, but this pettiness surprises me."

"Indeed! Their lies nearly cost me my—"

I blinked. Liston was already striding toward Harry.

"Good day, Sir Jamie. Dr. Liston, Professor of Surgery."

Harry's shriek echoed through the room.

More Chapters