'Was that guy… a drug addict?'
'Morphine isn't inherently bad. It depends on how people use it… but it seems Pyeong has a tendency toward that sort of thing, huh?'
'Calling the professor a drug addict…'
My smile must have caused a misunderstanding.
The way those three were talking about drugs made it obvious.
Well…
Wasn't medicine and science a bit strange around this time?
There was already nitrous oxide, known as laughing gas, and upon closer inspection, ether existed too—yet anesthesia was still mostly done with alcohol.
Even morphine, despite its incredible pain-relieving effects, was likely being ignored.
'It's fine… I'll just teach them.'
For that, I could endure some misunderstandings.
Saving lives was more important than my pride.
Besides, the societal attitude toward opium and morphine was fairly tolerant, so it wasn't like I'd face any physical restrictions.
"Anyway… I'm glad the surgery went well."
Sir Damian chuckled as he faced my smile.
Then he gently touched his now-empty bladder.
"Honestly, just this relief alone is enough for me. Though the lower part is still a bit uncomfortable…"
"You'll likely stay that way for the rest of your life."
The rest of his life…
Declaring it so boldly might be a bit risky.
Considering the average lifespan of this era, Sir Damian probably wouldn't live much longer anyway.
Not that it was a curse from a doctor—just statistics.
Now I sound like some kind of lunatic.
"Good, very good. Just hearing that makes me happy. Well done. I'll make sure to repay you properly later."
"I didn't do it expecting repayment… but thank you."
"No need to be modest. When a noble offers a gift, it's proper etiquette to simply accept it."
"Understood. I'll keep that in mind."
With that, I bid Sir Damian farewell for now and went to check on the patients who had undergone surgery the previous day.
None of them seemed to have any issues.
Of course, most were elderly, and unlike Sir Damian, their hygiene and nutrition were lacking, so they appeared weaker…
Still, there were no signs of infection.
Urinary tract infections might develop later, but fortunately, bread around this time molded easily, so I could use some of the fungi for emergencies if needed.
"Brother. This is all thanks to you."
After finishing rounds, I spoke to Liston.
It wasn't just empty praise.
Honestly…
I really did rely on his help.
If Liston hadn't monitored the prostate through the rectum, one or two patients might have ruptured.
And if that happened, they would've almost certainly died.
"Still… next time, pick one of your students to assist."
"Would they be skilled enough? Sensitivity is also a talent."
"Ah."
"You're the only one I can trust."
"Hah."
Liston let out a deep sigh.
He didn't mind being acknowledged, but being constantly pushed like this probably annoyed him.
Well, what could I do?
If I wanted to keep performing these surgeries, I needed him.
"Professor! There you are!"
Someone approached Liston as he sighed.
From the very familiar face, it was clear they were either his student or assistant.
"Hm? What is it?"
"We have more limbs to amputate today."
With a cheerful expression, they mimed slicing off their own arm.
That seemed to energize Liston, who laughed heartily and stretched.
"Right, right. How many today?"
"Ten."
"Won't take long, then."
How many people in the world could say amputating ten limbs wouldn't take long?
Even executioners would've been recruited worldwide if they could do it as efficiently as him.
Beheading isn't as easy as it sounds.
Only someone like our Dr. Liston could…
"You haven't joined in a while, have you? You've improved bit by bit."
"Ah… well, yeah."
It'd probably take only an hour or two.
If that was enough to repay him for yesterday's help, I'd gladly do it.
With that thought, I headed toward the hospital's makeshift operating theater.
Inside, aside from patients and their families, the place was packed with spectators.
Spectators for surgery…
How on earth could I change these hygiene standards?
—Huh? You're saying we shouldn't allow spectators? Hahaha! Do you even know how much money they bring in for the hospital? Sometimes nobles pay extra when they attend! Say something like that again, and you'll disappear without a trace!
When I mentioned it to the director, that was the response I got.
Well…
Considering this was the same man who once claimed postpartum fever was caused by "earthly energies" before handwashing was even a thing, I shouldn't have been surprised.
Absolutely insane…
'Huh? Why is he here?'
The director was among the spectators.
From what I knew, he was still a fairly renowned doctor…
But lately, he seemed more interested in wandering around the hospital than anything else.
Like he couldn't sit still in one place.
Look at him—he's not even sitting now.
"It's Liston!"
"Swordmaster Liston!"
"Look over here!"
The place felt more like a performance hall than an operating room.
These lunatics…
What's so entertaining about watching someone's limbs being amputated?
"Hahaha! Good day, everyone!"
Of course, Liston loved it.
To him, this was both money and proof of his reputation as a surgeon.
"Haaah…"
Where there's light, there's shadow.
Today's first patient was trembling violently.
At least they weren't thrashing around or being dragged in by four people like in the past—thanks to anesthesia.
No more horrific pain…
But the terror of amputation was still overwhelming, wasn't it?
It's easy to say "amputation," but it means losing an arm or a leg.
'What was this patient's initial injury like?'
Even in the 21st century, amputations hadn't disappeared.
They were still performed for various reasons.
For example, diabetic foot.
If it worsened, it would rot, and leaving it untreated meant death.
Next were traffic accidents.
Especially with motorcycles or pedestrians—since their bodies weren't inside a vehicle, limbs could get crushed, leaving amputation as the only option.
'But here… even a splinter in a finger could lead to amputation.'
Tetanus might come to mind, but it wasn't just that.
Honestly, I wasn't entirely sure.
Why?
Because I hadn't even been here a year yet.
In that time, I'd been too busy working alongside Liston to notice much else.
I'd only seen the final treatment—amputation—not the preceding steps.
'Now that the prostate issue is mostly resolved… maybe it's time to look into this.'
Hemorrhoids had quietly become part of my responsibilities too…
Fortunately, unlike prostate treatments, there weren't any horrific surgeries like testicle removal floating around for hemorrhoids.
No rush, in other words.
Well… if an emergency case came in, I could handle it.
Though colorectal wasn't my main specialty, I was still a surgeon.
In Korea, surgeons had to know hemorrhoids to make a living, so I was fairly skilled at it.
"Haaaah…"
"Good. Breathe deeply."
Meanwhile, an assistant handed the visibly terrified patient the mask I'd designed while adjusting the anesthesia gas.
Come to think of it, that also needed improvement.
We actually used local anesthesia far more often than general anesthesia, right?
Somehow, I doubted that anesthetic had no negative effects on the brain.
"Huuu…"
"Professor, he's ready!"
At the assistant's words, Liston gave an acknowledging hum and slipped on his trademark black gloves before picking up his massive blade.
I'd tried lifting it once—there was no way it was light enough to wield one-handed like that.
Well, you could lift it, but…
Whoosh.
"Wow… he's cutting through the air!"
"As expected… the Swordmaster!"
It wasn't the kind of weight you could swing around so effortlessly.
But for Liston, it was like an extension of his own body.
He spun the blade a few times before approaching the patient.
Meanwhile, the assistants tightly bound the patient's upper arm with a tourniquet.
That would effectively stop the bleeding.
"Here… we go."
"Yes."
Whoosh.
"Wow!"
The slightly curved blade came down the moment the assistant responded, and before the spectator's "Wow!" even finished, Liston already had a saw in hand.
'Insane…'
He'd gotten even faster.
Well…
When you perform at least ten to dozens of amputations a day, it's only natural.
Crk-crk.
The bone was cut through in an instant.
Immediately after, he began tying off the blood vessels—his knotwork had also improved.
It wasn't textbook-perfect, so sometimes they came loose later…
But that was something I could teach.
If I explained it, they'd pick it up quickly.
"Hmm."
Just then, the director, who had been pacing, approached.
His expression made it clear he wanted to talk, so I turned to him.
"Yes, what is it?"
"Let's talk outside."
"Ah… of course."
So he hadn't just come to spectate.
Once outside, the director glanced back inside before speaking.
"You've noticed, but amputation cases are decreasing."
"Ah…"
Only ten today, now that he mentioned it.
"We've already amputated everyone who needed it, it seems."
Surely he wasn't suggesting we go out and find more people to amputate?
"More will come eventually… but the real issue is that people have a strong aversion to amputation. Did you know that?"
Listening to the director state the obvious, I nodded as earnestly as possible.
"Of course."
"Right. Surprisingly, that's the case."
Surprisingly?
Isn't it completely normal for people to resist having their limbs cut off?
"So I've been thinking… what if we could treat them without amputation?"
"That would be wonderful."
"Of course, it won't be easy. As you know, British medicine is the finest in the world. It's the culmination of all medical knowledge, further advanced by our nation's spirit of innovation."
"Ah, yes."
That short speech contained so many inaccuracies I didn't even know where to begin.
If he weren't the director, I might've punched him first and asked questions later.
"Still… you have a remarkable talent for seeing things from a new perspective, don't you? I didn't make you a professor at such a young age for nothing."
"You flatter me."
"So, I'd like you to observe our wound treatment process and suggest any improvements."
"I'll do my best."
I'd already been planning to look into it—if the director was asking, why hesitate?
I nodded immediately.