Chapter 133: Improvement [4]
“All right.”
The carriage rolled toward Sir Jamie’s mansion. It was a good carriage. Our Dr. Liston had made a decent amount of money, after all. But unlike before, the interior now reeked.
“Why me?”
The smell came from Hugh. After spending so long at sea and suffering a serious injury before disembarking, it was no surprise. This was not prejudice. Sailors in this era had to be rough. They drank more alcohol than water, faced unfamiliar climates and peoples, and rarely had the luxury of hygiene.
Hugh opened his mouth with a tremble. It probably did not happen often. Every time he spoke, a stomach-churning blend of body odor and feces filled the carriage. I tolerated it as best I could.
He’s not brushing his teeth, is he…?
To distract myself, I focused on other thoughts. It really did help. Luckily, Hugh was not talking to me. He was speaking to Liston.
“No way.”
Liston took the full blast of the stench. I felt a pang of sympathy, but of course, he had worked in 19th-century hospitals. He was used to bad smells. He forced himself not to react and faced Hugh head-on.
“I think it’s best if you testify in person.”
“Well… even so, meeting a nobleman is a bit much.”
“Maybe it’s because you’ve got no balls. You weren’t always like this. Anyway, this is a good chance to persuade him.”
“No, no! That’s not it!”
Liston’s words probably stung, but Hugh did not protest. He only looked more confused.
“It’s just… haah, this is scary.”
“Don’t sigh like that. Want to die right here?”
“S-sorry.”
“Look out the window when you talk from now on.”
“Isn’t that a bit much?”
“What’s too much is your breath. This is all for a good cause. You’ve already taken the money.”
“That’s…”
In the end, Hugh was forced to speak while staring out the window. At least he did not seem too angry. Probably because the cash we gave him earlier was generous. For someone of his class, it was equivalent to a month’s wages.
Whatever else, I had to admit it. Dr. Liston might be blunt and harsh, but he rewarded people well.
“How did you end up here, anyway?”
Soon, we arrived in one of London’s elite neighborhoods. Sir Jamie’s mansion stood in a prime location, and as the carriage stopped, a guard came rushing out. Not a regular watchman. An actual soldier.
Well, the professor really went all out…
If we were dealing with a proper noble household, Liston might have kicked a hornet’s nest. Better to break a bone than lose your testicles in a place like this. With soldiers posted at the gate, it was clear this was not a matter of Liston slipping over a bribe. It was serious.
“My name is Liston, from the London University School of Medicine.”
“Ah…! Then you’re the one from the gallows! And this must be Professor Pyeong?”
“Yes, hello. You know me?”
“Of course! I enjoyed the dissection show. It was the best carnival event we’ve had in a while.”
The guard greeted me politely. Unlike the police, who were easier to deal with thanks to our arrangement with the chief, these soldiers were no joke. A small mistake could mean real trouble. Fortunately, this one recognized me.
“So… what’s going on? Did something go wrong with the surgery?”
Maybe. We had not said anything yet, but he was already guessing. Liston and I exchanged a glance, silently agreeing it was best to head inside and see for ourselves.
“Yes. It went very wrong.”
“Aha. So you’ve come to follow up. There have been plenty of cases like this. Come in.”
His eyes lit up. The soldier, who had recognized me immediately, even saluted and stepped aside. Hugh looked nervous in the middle of it all but stayed quiet.
That public dissection… people called it a “show,” and I had not really seen much effect from it besides being offered a professor title. But looking back, it really had been impactful.
This is good… Maybe I should start doing them regularly.
Soon, we might have another one by royal request. Princess Victoria herself. If that happened, there would be no issue acquiring a body. I had even considered practicing prostate surgery, but abandoned the idea. I did not want to be remembered for performing that kind of procedure in front of royalty.
Honestly though, in this era, almost any surgery could be considered a public demonstration.
“Hmm?”
As we passed through the immaculately maintained garden and approached the mansion, someone rushed out to greet us. Alfred’s house had a butler too, but this guy… he was something else. The way he moved showed a real difference in status.
“Sir, you look intimidating.”
“Are you okay? We’re not in the wrong here.”
“Still… that guy doesn’t even look like he can hold a scalpel.”
“My knife will go in just fine.”
“You’re not actually going to use it, right?”
“I don’t plan to go to jail, so don’t worry.”
After that short exchange, we stepped out of the carriage and faced the butler, who looked displeased.
“What is the meaning of this?”
He glanced toward the gate, clearly confused about how we had gotten past security. He probably had not expected the guards to salute us.
“This is Professor Liston from the London University School of Medicine.”
“And I’m Professor Pyeong.”
We did not answer directly. In these circles, names and titles spoke louder than explanations. As expected, the butler’s expression softened slightly.
“Ah… Two doctors. What brings you here?”
Instead of answering, I looked up toward the upper floors.
“We’re here about Harry the Butcher.”
“Butcher? He’s a renowned surgeon. Certainly experimental, but the master was very satisfied.”
“That surgery… was not entirely good.”
Liston faltered at the word “satisfied,” so I stepped forward.
Had I just been a random visitor, the butler might have scowled, but I had already introduced myself as a professor. He could not ignore me. Still, he looked toward Liston.
“What do you mean?”
“I heard another patient was considering undergoing the same surgery. That needs to be stopped. We brought a witness.”
“Witness…?”
He squinted toward the carriage. Seeing Hugh, his face twisted. It made sense. Even in this era, a high-ranking servant in a noble house would not normally interact with someone like Hugh.
“Lord Damien, isn’t he the one considering it? He must not be allowed to undergo that procedure.”
“But Sir Jamie is pleased with Dr. Liston’s—”
“Hey! This isn’t okay! Medically, it’s wrong! Harry’s a butcher—no, he’s a madman!”
Liston shouted, and the butler looked flustered. That was the thing. Doctors held an advantage in arguments like these. Even if you were lying, invoking “medical necessity” gave you the upper hand. And this time, it was not even a lie.
“Please! I’m asking you seriously!”
I added, almost pleading. The butler wavered.
“Very well. But please, no shouting. It’s strictly prohibited in the mansion. And as you know, my master recently had surgery.”
“Understood. Thank you.”
He laid down some ground rules, but that was fine. I had not planned to make a scene. Of course, his standards of “fuss” might not match mine.
We passed through a lavish but refined lobby, climbed to the second floor, and walked a bit before finally reaching a room. The butler opened the door with one final warning.
I checked on Hugh. He was completely frozen. If he managed to cause a commotion in that state, it would honestly be impressive. So I entered without concern.
“Th-thank you.”
Harry was the first person I noticed. He was massaging the limbs of someone strapped to a bed. Sir Jamie, I guessed. Three well-dressed young men stood nearby, probably his sons. Opposite them stood an older man with a stiff posture.
Is that Lord Damien?
Maybe. Thankfully, the operation hasn’t started yet.
Because the room was large and Harry was rambling loudly, no one noticed us slip in. Not even Harry.
“I thought I was going to die. All because you’re jealous of me…”
“Haha, how could I let my benefactor die? By the way, Liston? I hear he’s a cold one, but it turns out he’s petty too.”
“Luckily, I survived. They call me a butcher, can you believe it—”
“Haha. Stop rambling. My friend Lord Damien here has the same condition—”
Hey. Just as I thought.
Is he seriously saying this in front of everyone?
I looked over.
Liston was gone.
“Huh? Oh.”
He was already standing right beside Harry.
“And who are you?”
“Hello, Sir Jamie. My name is Robert Liston, Professor of Surgery at the London University School of Medicine.”
“Hey—!”
At that exact moment, Harry let out a scream that echoed through the entire room.
Footnotes
Translator’s Notes
Carnival — Historically, public festivals in Europe that often included performances, spectacles, executions, and other forms of public entertainment. The narration compares public dissections and surgeries to carnival attractions common in 19th-century society.