Chapter 14: Mister, Listen to Me [3]
Chapter 14: Mister, Listen to Me [3]
What was a banquet?
Was it not just a gathering where social butterflies got together and drank?
No.
No, that was not it.
This was the nineteenth century.
Even back in Upton, there had been things somewhat like banquets.
Though in that case, it had really just been the old man inviting acquaintances over to talk.
Since the Quakers sold alcohol but did not drink a drop except when tasting what they produced, there had not even been any alcohol served.
This place would be different.
Would it not be one of those parties you only saw in films?
“That... is not that kind of banquet.”
As I sat there letting my imagination run wild, the butler spoke.
“Hm?”
Feeling as if he had read my mind, I looked at him, and he continued.
“Ordinarily, banquets are held in the countryside, are they not? This is really the season for them.”
“Ah... yes, that’s right.”
For some reason, it felt like it would be awkward to admit I did not know, so I kept nodding.
In truth, I did not know a single thing in that sentence.
The only information I got from it was that banquets were held in the countryside.
And that it was apparently the season for them.
What was a banquet, some kind of seasonal fish?
Did such things really have a season?
Joseph was just as much of a country bumpkin as I was, so I would have to ask my senior later, once he recovered a little from the pain.
“In fact, Master has been receiving invitations continuously since December... but as you know, trade is not the sort of work that allows one to remain tied to a single place. No matter how much the young masters handle matters here and there on his behalf, there are still deals that can only be concluded once Master himself has laid his hand upon them.”
Anyway, the butler explained things quite diligently.
The reason was simple.
Our senior had spun a lie.
He had told them I was, well, a very important man’s son from Joseon.
Practically not just a noble, but above even that, hm?
“Prince Kim.”
“Ah.”
Still, that was too much.
Prince Kim?
Joseon was the House of Yi.
A Kim dynasty would be...
Wait.
Up north...?
“I am not a prince. Our king is of the Yi family.”
“Ah, my apologies. In any case, because of Master’s circumstances, he cannot attend large banquets. So instead, he holds a smaller one here. It is slightly different from an ordinary social gathering. How should I put it...”
Right after making that outrageous statement, the butler stopped mid-sentence and looked toward one side of the mansion.
I saw a round table.
Around it were... what did you call those things again?
Ah, right, finger foods or whatever.
They did not look good.
That was not important, but what should I call that kind of gathering...?
“It is a business gathering.”
“Not a gambling gathering...?”
Because that was exactly what it looked like.
There were ashtrays set out in advance.
Several packs of cards.
The lighting had been dimmed a little too...
I had seen scenes like that in films before.
Not in good films, but in films full of bad people.
Could his trade business... be one of those shady kinds of business...?
Come to think of it, the fact that they even had a house like this in London was suspicious in itself.
Really.
How much money could anyone make doing only legal work?
“Ah, yes. A gambling gathering. He likes them very much. He especially loves that card game.”
“Ah, yes...”
But regardless of what I thought, the butler sounded remarkably confident.
No, more than that, there was even a hint of pride in his voice.
Well, sure...
Things like law and morality changed depending on the era, did they not?
In the nineteenth century, setting up a gambling house in one’s own home and holding gatherings there might well have counted as a perfectly fine thing.
What was it again?
Hadn’t some noble supposedly invented the sandwich while gambling?
If it had been shameful, they would not have boasted about it so proudly.
“So... it will also be good for Prince Kim to attend.”
“I told you, I’m not a prince.”
“Then shall I call you Noble Kim?”
“Hmm.”
Noble, huh.
As far as I knew, both of my parents only got their surnames while crossing the Indian Ocean.
“All right. You may call me that.”
“Yes, Noble Kim.”
Still, what could I do?
If he was going to call me that, there was no need for me to explain things at length.
It was all a lie anyway.
“In any case... the gathering will be very quiet. It will mostly involve business discussions... so it may be rather boring for you, but if you come and exchange a few words, everyone will be delighted. Since they are all involved in trade, they also tend to have fewer prejudices toward Easterners.”
“I see. Yes, thank you. Then around when... should I get ready and come out?”
“We will inform you separately.”
“Yes, yes.”
The butler withdrew like that, and it took quite a while after that before my senior came fully to his senses.
“Does it hurt that much?”
Even as I asked, I felt a little sorry.
Of course it hurt.
At the same time, I was curious.
Exactly how much did it hurt?
To have your finger dug into with a knife without anesthetic.
“You little bastard...”
So it hurt enough to make him swear.
Yes, that made sense.
I decided to accept my senior’s insults with humility.
“And yet you still curse at me?” Joseph challenged him, but I stopped him.
“If someone cuts into you, then of course you curse. Naturally.”
If someone told me they were going to operate on me without anesthetic, I would curse too.
Besides, I had something very important I needed to bring up.
In the end, I was going to have to ask for money.
And the one paying was always the boss, was he not?
So I lowered myself slightly and helped my senior to his feet.
Judging by the way his legs trembled, it really did hurt badly.
“Still, you don’t have a fever. The progress is good.”
“Right... it should be.”
“But was the person who died before someone close to you? Why are you this scared?”
“Huh? Ah, yeah, he was my friend. Back then, I wondered what was wrong. But now that I see it... yes, it was exactly like this. Good heavens, to think there were harmful particles on a corpse.”
Pain aside, I was not sure why it was so shocking that a corpse might have harmful particles on it.
Did it not feel obvious just from looking at one?
Instinctively, it was frightening.
You did not even want to touch it.
That kind of feeling was not meaningless.
Of course, it had only been clearly proven by research carried out in the twenty-first century, but still, it meant that the emotions we felt could actually be very rational.
But talking about that now did not seem like it would do much good, so I changed the subject.
It was at least a relief that he was now thinking of it as particles rather than vague energy.
“So, about that. Wouldn’t it be better to block those particles?”
“It would be good if we could block them. But how?”
“Well...”
It felt a bit wrong to continue the conversation in the kitchen, especially beside that cauldron of hell, so we talked while walking.
As we did, I noticed the works of art lining the corridor.
It was a rich household after all, and among them were paintings of medieval knights.
“Yes, that. That. Those gloves.”
“Gloves?”
“The iron ones there. The ones they wear on their hands.”
“Ah, gloves. Right. Gloves... hmm. But how would you dissect wearing those?”
You could not, idiot.
What, were you planning to wage war against the corpse?
Then Joseph, who was walking beside us and, thanks to his sturdy build, was practically supporting my senior by himself, said, “If they were winter gloves... maybe you could.”
“Ah, leather gloves! If it were those, then even if the knife slipped, it wouldn’t cut through, so they could keep the particles from touching you.”
Ah, right.
They would protect you, sure.
But could you really dissect properly while wearing those...?
The human body was delicate.
Even when cutting carefully, it was easy to damage things, and now you wanted to wear something that thick?
Besides, we had to dissect decaying corpses without even using Formalin.
That made them even more fragile.
“They would protect you, yes. They would protect you, but... don’t you have to feel the structures inside while you cut?”
“Ah, that’s true. Actually... for all that I look like this, I’m quite good at dissection, you know? The professor even told me that starting next year, I should step in as an assistant right away.”
“Ah, I see.”
Then how exactly had you managed to cut your own hand?
If not for me, you would already be dead.
Still, I was the one in the weaker position, so I humored him with all due zeal and sincerity.
I was confident in that.
I had lived like this for well over a decade before becoming a professor.
“Since you’re the one saying it, then it must be true. Dissection is delicate work, after all, so leather gloves would definitely be too thick.”
“Right, exactly. Hmm... but we still need protection.”
My senior raised his hand for us to see.
As he looked at it, the pain must have returned, because his face crumpled again.
Separately, I examined the wound, and there was no doubt the painful cutting and cleaning had been worth it.
He won’t die. At least.
At this rate, it did not seem like he would die.
It was a pointless ordeal for me and for him, suffering all around, but still.
Anyway, relieved, I quietly took out what I had been carrying with me.
It was the rubber.
“Hm?”
“Looking at this... I’ve been thinking.”
“Mm.”
“What do you think about making gloves out of this? Unlike leather, it doesn’t get wet. It seems like it would be good.”
“Gloves... out of this? Out of this?”
My senior did look a little tempted.
But not very tempted.
“It’s this stiff.”
Because the rubber in front of us was completely different from the rubber we imagined.
To the point where it felt like it would be more useful as armor.
But I knew very well what kinds of forms rubber would eventually develop into.
I was even more certain of it than I had been when I was only thinking of surgical gloves.
It really could be made strong and thin.
I had seen it.
I did not know how, but still.
Would it not all work out somehow if you just ground enough engineers into it?
“Couldn’t it be made thinner too? You said there’s already thin rubber, after all.”
“But that... is too soft... and too weak.”
“Couldn’t it be treated somehow?”
“Treated how?”
How the hell would I know?
“I don’t know. But wouldn’t your father know some factory owner or scientist who might?”
“Hmm... but the thing is.”
“Yes.”
All at once, my senior’s expression turned serious.
For the first time ever, he actually looked intelligent.
Then again, in a way, that was only natural.
Whatever else he was, he was still someone who had received a proper education.
“These gloves... there’s no business potential in them. It would take an enormous amount of money to develop anything... and I don’t think my father would spend that kind of money just for the safety of dissection practice.”
“But you’re his son.”
“I just have to be careful. And besides, from now on, you can keep protecting me.”
Don’t say creepy things like that...
Protect you, my ass.
What was I supposed to be, your guardian angel?
I wanted to see Chuu.
No, no.
Stop talking nonsense...
“No, no. I think there might be fields where it does have business potential.”
“What kind of business potential? Gloves won’t work.”
To be blunt, it would probably be nice to wear them while doing laundry or washing dishes too.
But expecting that in the nineteenth century was basically impossible.
It was already asking too much to expect that kind of hygiene awareness from people who performed surgery with bare hands.
Anyway.
“That... I mean contraception.”
“Contraception?”
When I asked earlier, it turned out Condoms did already exist.
But they were made from animal intestines.
Honestly...
Really...
Those bastards had strong stomachs.
“What do you think about making Condoms out of thin rubber? It would be much sturdier, and it seems like it would be cleaner too.”
“Oh...? And they wouldn’t get ruined even if you washed and reused them?”
No, let’s not wash and reuse them...
Please, let’s make them disposable.