While I was pondering Liston's words, the police stepped in to restore order.
Order in 19th-century London was quite different from what we might imagine.
The most important 'order' was to create a separate line for the wealthy and powerful.
Because of this, the people from the slums, who had nothing to do and had come early, ended up being pushed to the back.
"This is a bit... isn't it wrong?"
"What's wrong with it? The world is just like this."
"No, I'm saying we don't even know if this procedure is good or not, understand? I've never done it before."
"Well... if it goes wrong, wouldn't it not be our responsibility?"
"Huh?"
"They're the ones who volunteered, aren't they?"
"Ah."
Well...
It wasn't just the concept of order that was different.
The mindset of doctors also couldn't help but be different.
It was an era where things like consent forms didn't exist, and people didn't even know why they should.
'It's not exactly wrong, I suppose.'
I felt a momentary sense of rebellion, but I felt at ease again as soon as I recalled the eternal truth: When in Rome, do as the Romans do.
Well...
They're the ones who said they'd do it themselves.
Besides, if it were truly dangerous, we wouldn't have called for the general public like this.
We have prisoners, you know, the vicious ones.
'This isn't... a life-or-death illness, so what should I call it?'
It's hard to call it just an inconvenience...
Hmm...
"Pyeong. This is really serious."
"Ah, yes."
I'm not sure what to call it, but let's just say it's a serious illness.
Anyway, after all these thoughts, we fortunately reached a reasonable conclusion.
"If we're attempting to treat such a serious disease, even if it's for practice... should we charge money?"
"Aren't they wealthy people? If they were poor, it might be different... But these people would probably feel insulted if we offered to do it for free."
"I suppose so."
"I think they would. I'm not entirely sure, though."
The conclusion was, in essence, to sell the right to participate in a clinical trial for money, perhaps a world first.
I felt a slight pang of conscience...
But somehow, it seemed acceptable to charge money to the wealthy of London during this period.
Not because I'm a communist, but because most of the rich here during this time hardly earned their money through their own work, right?
Profiteering, paying taxes, and so on—in a way, it's almost like being a righteous robber, a Robin Hood.
Yes, with the mindset that I am Hong Gildong and Robin Hood, we informed those who had just been placed at the front separately, through the police.
"It can't be helped, can it?"
"My friend received diabetes treatment here, and he improved a lot afterwards. His skill is top-notch."
"Diabetes? That's not the same level... Don't you have a friend who got a nose job? It's not a matter of skill."
"Otherwise, why would His Majesty King William be personally considering bestowing a knighthood for medical achievements."
As expected, there was no particular opposition.
"Then, should we just leave?"
"We are desperate too!"
There was some backlash from the poor.
And from the middle class as well.
But...
What could we do?
As soon as they heard it was no longer free and that we would be charging money, people started to leave one by one.
A few of them were glancing at us with unpleasant expressions, but that was nothing to worry about either.
If they were a rival gang, it might be different, but what could a poor person with absolutely nothing possibly do to us?
Look no further than our chef—he's the cutoff point.
Do you think you can get through him?
He's a gangster who has retired or is about to retire, and he makes up half of our hospital staff.
And you think you can get through that?
'Unless you level up while trying to get through...'
In a game, it's natural for the protagonists to become richer and stronger the more they fight, but in reality, they become poorer, injured, and weaker.
And in that state, to beat Liston...?
How on earth do you expect to win against him?
"What are you thinking about? Staring like that... It's impolite."
"Ah, ah."
"Well, it's not like there's anyone who would dare say anything to you, but still."
"Yes, yes."
While I was lost in other thoughts, I found myself already in front of a patient.
Since guidelines had been sent out in advance, they weren't completely bald.
It meant that there was quite a lot of hair left, from the crown to the sides.
In fact, their situation was even better than Liston's...
Because of that, for me, they were quite a challenging candidate.
"We will use the hair from this area and transplant it here."
"Ah... I see."
"It's a very painful surgery, so general anesthesia is required. For that, fasting is also necessary, so it can't be done today. Let's schedule a date."
"Ah... I see. Where...?"
"Over there."
"Right, right."
It's not like surgeries are usually scheduled this easily, is it?
In the past, you had to catch the patient first, not schedule the surgery.
Because they kept running away.
Of course, after the advent of anesthesia, it became much easier than before...
But that doesn't mean there are people who readily agree when you say, 'Let's amputate a limb!' 'Let's do it!'
It's surprising that they aren't completely nonexistent, but anyway...
"So it can't be done today?"
"It shouldn't be done immediately like that. For one, I'm a bit tired today... Are you saying it's okay to do it in this state?"
"No, that would be problematic."
It was no exaggeration to say that there were absolutely no cases where it was scheduled as readily as now.
No, it wasn't just a matter of being scheduled; some were stubbornly insisting on having it done right now.
Even people who weren't suitable candidates were doing the same.
"Your Grace..."
Now I knew why Detective Damian had come.
This person... did have hair loss, but it wasn't at a fatal level.
Moreover, the nobles and members of parliament of the British Empire usually wore wigs when attending meetings or other important events.
Wear a hat outside, and put on a wig when you go inside.
Frankly, even I thought it was hard to tell who was bald, so it's only natural that ordinary people with less keen eyesight would be even more so.
However, the person standing before me...
"Uh, Your Royal Highness. I, I greet you. Liston."
"Your Royal Highness. Kim Tae-pyeong!"
He was a Duke like Jamie or Damian, but it was a bit of a stretch to call him just another Duke.
With a brightly shining head, wearing a benevolent smile...
And even if not being personally assisted by Detective Damian, this person standing with some help... To put it bluntly, he was truly at the very core of power.
'Adolphus Frederick...'
His Royal Highness, the current Duke of Cambridge.
Former Prince Adolphus.
It wasn't for no reason that I mentioned 'Prince'—he was actually the son of the late King George III.
At the same time, he is the younger brother of the reigning King William IV.
As a Korean, I couldn't understand at all why George III's son wasn't George IV but William IV...
But what could I do?
If they say that's how it is, wouldn't it be stranger for me to add my two cents?
"Haha, raise your heads. I came here secretly, so if you all make such a fuss, it becomes more difficult for me."
The fact that such a prominent figure came here was strange enough...
But there's another reason why it's considered even more remarkable.
This man is, in name, the Viceroy of the Kingdom of Hanover.
He is the one who rules the Kingdom of Hanover in Germany as regent on behalf of his older brother, William IV, that's what I mean...
And he came here.
"Right, raise your heads. When you think about it, your status isn't such that you need to bow this deeply anymore."
As we, surprised in many ways, knelt down, His Gracious Highness Adolphus and Detective Damian each took charge of one of us—me and Liston—and personally helped us up.
In the meantime, Lord Adolphus whispered, seeming a bit embarrassed, and the content was outrageous.
"To be honest, it's no exaggeration to say I've been obsessed with treating this hair since I was thirty."
"I, I see."
"But even after meeting all the doctors said to be the best in the world... the honest ones said there's no way, and the greedy ones tried to scam me. Then, around that time, I heard there were famous doctors in London named Liston and Pyeongsi."
"Ah..."
"If it were just rumors, that would be one thing... but even a mathematician named Gauss near Hanover and a doctor named Joseph were talking about you, so how could I not be curious? So I told Damian that if there's any talk about hair, to let me know."
Ah... Joseph...
It seems that bastard didn't go around badmouthing me behind my back.
Or maybe he did, but his words contained some level of acknowledgment.
Anyway, no matter how much I had told Damian...
The timing didn't match.
If he came by sailboat, it would take at least a few days, no matter how fast.
"I came by steamship. For narrow passages, I took a galley. There are still places where rowing is faster."
"The amount Your Highness spent on this round trip voyage must be considerable. I truly hope the results are good."
I got the answer.
No...
The British Royal Navy, the guys who sent sailboats even when fighting the Qing Dynasty... and for a hair loss treatment, he used a steamship and a galley?
Well... If it were an illness that required a time attack to treat, then I might try to understand.
For example, if it were something like cancer where timing is critical, or if Kim Tae-pyeong were a treasure goblin that's here for a moment and then goes elsewhere, then I would try to understand, that's what I mean.
But... it's just hair loss, isn't it?
'Pyeong.'
'Yes?'
'He could be that desperate.'
'Ah.'
Had my gaze become disrespectful again without me realizing it?
Liston hastily whispered in my ear.
Although he's a person who fears nothing in the world, doesn't he show an endlessly weak side to power?
The person before me now was a Duke, and not just any ordinary Duke, but someone seemingly higher, so there was no reason to criticize him for showing a servile attitude.
On the contrary, it was time for me to reflect.
'But...'
The reason I was troubled was also a legitimate one.
'This person... has no hair... to harvest and transplant... The area is just too large.'
Even if we used both scalp reduction and flap surgery...
Even considering that the face would be pulled up a bit... it's impossible.
There's even a chance he might end up looking even more monstrous than now.
'What should I do...?'
But could I really say I can't do it?
Operating a steamship and using slaves or crew for the galley... just how much money would that be?
No, more than that, the King left his post.
Because of hair loss.
Did he appoint a regent or something?
It's not an era where a rebellion would break out just because he's not guarding his position anyway.
Napoleon is gone, France is busy dealing with its internal revolution, and Germany... well, it was torn to pieces from the start, wasn't it?
'But still... it's not like it's nothing.'
Above all, he was looking at me with such an expectant face.
I guess that makes sense.
He came all the way here by ship, wouldn't he be expectant?
Moreover, humans are animals of self-rationalization, so once they've committed to something, they tend to continuously think it was the right thing to do.
'Is this how most British Dukes are?'
Haah.
I barely suppressed a sigh that was about to escape and said,
"I will give it a try."
Ah, fuck.
I should have only thought it, but I said it out loud.