Hair loss.
Strangely, when I hear "hair loss," I remember being told, "Go get your hair loss treatment at the military training camp."
I don't know about those who enlisted at 20 or 21, but the candidate military officers, boasting a minimum age of 31, couldn't help but flinch at the word "hair loss."
My hair was and still is thick, but my friend's wasn't, so I'd always let out a deep sigh...
"Why are you sighing?"
"No, it's nothing."
What would happen if I said, "You should get treatment for your hair loss," every time Liston took off his hat?
I'd die, that's for sure; the only question would be how I'd die.
Anyway, I listened attentively to Liston's words while looking at his forehead... no, the area that should have been his hairline, now imprinted with the Korean Peninsula.
Even if he were saying something trivial, I'd need to focus because it's Liston, but since he was speaking seriously now, I straightened my posture and composed my expression again.
It wasn't easy.
"Anyway, listen. If you know of anything medically plausible, that would be good."
I had to suppress the immediate thought, 'If there were a plausible method, would the map of our country be drawn on your head?'
In an era with almost no entertainment, one might think about teasing others... but since it was Liston, I couldn't even do that.
"It's not exactly in the order I tried them... but I'll explain in chronological order."
And so, the grand history of hair loss, according to Liston, began.
"Egypt, you know? With the pyramids."
"Ah... yes. I'd love to go there sometime."
"You too? Let's go together when we get some time off. Anyway, they say it's the civilization of the gods, right?"
"That's right."
Even in the 21st century, theories about alien civilizations pop up regarding the Egyptian pyramids, so what about the 19th century?
Building those massive pyramids would be difficult even with 19th-century British power.
Moreover, this is an era where racial discrimination is as natural as breathing; would they want to believe that ancient Egyptians, not even the modern ones, built such things?
It doesn't make sense.
Because of that, fantasies about ancient civilizations were even more prevalent.
"I heard there's a method there of mixing the fat of hippos, crocodiles, civet cats, and ibex and applying it to the head. They said the pharaohs actually used that method."
"Did you... try that?"
"Indeed. It cost a great deal of money."
"I... see."
It's no exaggeration to say that both Liston and I are practically wealthy.
If you're classified as wealthy in London, of all places, wouldn't you be wealthy anywhere?
It meant we could spend some money on frivolous things.
But I had no idea he spent it on buying hippo and crocodile fat.
"It wasn't very effective... so I tried Hippocrates' method."
"Ah, the great physician."
"Indeed."
He was certainly a great figure, but blindly worshipping him even now is problematic in many ways.
For starters, isn't he the father of that damned humoral theory and bloodletting?
You might think I've debunked a lot of it... but surprisingly!
Most people believe that most of the surgeries I perform are also an extension of bloodletting.
Open the head? Bloodletting from the head. Perform pericardial decompression? Bloodletting from the heart...
Sinus surgery? Bloodletting from the nose!
"Looking at the texts he left behind, there's an ointment made by mixing opium, horseradish, and beetroot..."
"It wasn't effective."
"Yes, unfortunately."
I inadvertently glanced at Liston's peninsular scalp.
I thought I was done for, but perhaps his temper had mellowed along with his hair loss, as he surprisingly let it slide quietly.
Then again, doesn't it appear in the Bible?
Samson, whose strength left him when his hair was cut.
Who knows, maybe Westerners who are overly strong have that trait.
"I also used Julius Caesar's method. Hmm."
"What method is that?"
"Cutting off a donkey's genitals, burning them, mixing them with my own urine, and applying it."
"Pardon?"
"It was useless..."
"Uh... yes."
The story was getting increasingly absurd.
You'd think it couldn't get worse than donkey genitals... but medicine always surpasses imagination.
This time was no exception.
"I also looked into methods passed down from the Ottoman Empire."
"Huh? That place..."
"You know. Infidels."
How desperate must he have been to consider the Ottoman Empire...?
Well, they were allies with some nations during World War I, so it might not be that strange.
But what followed was a bit much...
"I heard that among Muslims, hair loss is considered a curse from God."
"Ah... really?"
"Yes. So, I heard some people even castrate themselves."
"Ah."
Islam indeed...
A fearsome religion...
It's a thought steeped in prejudice, but isn't the very idea of devising self-castration as a treatment extraordinary?
Of course, 19th-century Britain was no exception.
Anyway, while I was stunned by the shocking statement, Liston continued speaking relentlessly.
Even though the speaker should be more hesitant than the listener about such topics, he was speaking more clearly and deliberately than before.
"Come to think of it, it just occurred to me... it seems like it might actually be preventive. In fact, this is what I most wanted to ask about. What do you think? Is there any merit to that method?"
It seemed this was what he really wanted to talk about.
And so, my dilemma began.
Why?
Because there is some merit to it.
'Damn it...'
Isn't this one of the two methods that dermatologist mentioned?
If you castrate yourself, hair loss progression would stop.
No, it wouldn't just stop; hair might even grow back.
Because even if it's falling out, it would fall out slower and less than before.
Once the falling stops completely, it's natural for it to appear thicker than before.
"Is there merit to it?"
But can I tell him to cut them off?
Liston's testicles, of all people?
What Sir Jamie did was absurd too... but at least he had children and lived a long life.
But Liston is a young man with a bright future ahead.
He already looked somewhat older for his age, and with no hair, he might look like a man in his fifties, but he's not much older than I was in my previous life.
His testicles...?
"Is there merit or not? Looking at your face, it seems there is."
While I was lost in thought, Liston said something ominous. When I looked at him, his expression was utterly desperate.
This guy...
If I said castration had merit, he'd probably do it.
"First, tell me your thoughts."
"Well... yes."
Listening to a 19th-century doctor's 'thoughts' is never a good idea.
But...
I couldn't think of any other way, so I had no choice.
Whatever this guy said, I needed to buy time.
"I've been thinking about that friend from before. The one without testicles."
"Ah... that person."
"Wasn't his hair quite thick?"
"Well..."
It probably was.
It's inevitable, isn't it?
The cause of hair loss is male hormones, and he got rid of them entirely.
"And look at Sir Jamie. That fellow... regardless of anything else, his hair has become thicker."
"Well..."
This is also true.
I hadn't paid particular attention, but...
It makes sense.
"Couldn't it be a coincidence?"
Even so, I couldn't say "Let's cut them off!", so I said this. Liston chuckled.
It was clearly a scoff.
"I tracked down every single person harmed by Harry, one by one. Some were dead and gone, but there were survivors."
"Ah."
19th-century people are tougher than I thought.
To survive having their testicles cut off with that dirty, unsterilized knife...
And the fact that there were survivors nearly a year later was quite astonishing.
Of course, Liston didn't seem particularly impressed by that fact.
"Those people... they said their hair became thicker afterward. I might have killed the wrong person."
"Who... Harry?"
"Yes. Isn't it true that great progress is sometimes discovered by accident? Certainly, your method might be safer and superior for treating prostate enlargement, but if it can prevent or even treat hair loss... Harry shouldn't have gone out like that."
"No..."
Are you the same person who called that Harry a butcher and said he should be the first to lead the charge to kill him?
Hair loss is that terrifying.
It makes people change in an instant.
'No, no. I need to get a grip.'
Of course, watching this is entertaining.
If he were a complete stranger, and I thought of it as a play, I'd be willing to laugh heartily.
But isn't Liston, regardless of what anyone says, my teacher and now my friend?
"Look at Sir Jamie. His hair might be better, but his beard is falling out... and his muscles have weakened, haven't they?"
"What does that matter? It's my hypothesis that the beard goes to the head."
"No..."
Thinking so desperately finally had an effect.
'Wait... he was with me back then, wasn't he?'
Did his memory fall out along with his hair?
I don't know what happened, but anyway, unlike Liston, I managed to recall a memory I had forgotten.
"That time! You said that person became a eunuch! Is that something you can accept?"
"Huh?"
"Don't you remember? That's why Sir Jamie killed Harry."
"Ah."
This is the first time I've seen Liston make such a foolish face.
He must have been so preoccupied with his hair that he didn't think of that.
How could anyone forget something so important...?
But since I've never experienced hair loss myself, it's probably not my place to judge.
I've seen not only Liston but also a quite close friend from my previous life become diminished in the face of hair loss.
"I see... It's something you do to meet women, so ending up like that wouldn't do..."
Liston began muttering while looking at his own lower body.
I couldn't tell if he was talking to himself or having a conversation with that guy, but I thought we shouldn't leave him like this.
Certainly...
The reality is that internal medicine treatments are impossible.
People in the 21st century refuse to take them, citing various rare side effects, but wasn't that miracle drug discovered?
If that had existed, Liston wouldn't have ended up like this.
But it doesn't exist.
Does that mean there's no way at all?
"Brother."
"Huh?"
"May I take a look at your hair?"
"What, is this your first time seeing a bald head? Do you want to use me as a case study?"
"No, no... There might be a way."
"Huh?"
There is.
Hair transplantation.
It's cumbersome, expensive, and difficult...
But nevertheless, it's a possible option.
In a way, it's the hope for those with hair loss.
I've seen someone who had it done; they became a completely different person from before.
'Was it fortunate that the future of surgery seemed uncertain...?'
Is this a blessing in disguise?
I learned hair transplantation because all the seniors who specialized and left were failing, but I never thought it would be helpful like this.
Anyway, I began meticulously examining the back of Liston's head, while he looked like he had just seen Jesus.