Chapter 140: No, There Was This? [1]
In total, these bastards suggested more than ten different “cold remedies” in under five minutes. And they were medical students, not ordinary people. Considering I was being taught by a non-standard teacher, I figured I should at least come up with one treatment that was not absolute nonsense.
“Bloodletting! Bloodletting!”
“Quick! Go get dog poop!”
“Slit the ankle?”
“Take off all your clothes! You’re burning up!”
“Should we throw him in the river?”
“Yeah, that might help too.”
No… No. Please don’t do this. These lunatics. Why were they always pulling out knives in front of someone with a fever?
“This madman…”
And dog poop? Seriously? That “even dog dung is medicine” saying was an old British proverb, so why were they making it sound Korean?
“Oh, you’re still alive?”
Even though I felt like I was about to fade out, I suddenly felt the urgent need to protect myself. Look at them. Just look at this man sharpening a knife like he was excited.
“Don’t worry. I’m great at Bloodletting.”
Liston? When the hell did he show up? Wait, why was he sharpening a knife? Did “slit the ankle” literally mean cutting it open?
“Never… never put that knife on me…”
I was already burning up, my mind half gone. Watching that knife gleam pushed me further into Delirium. No, I was not imagining this. I had seen this before.
I’m going crazy. I’m losing it. If I don’t escape, I’m really going to die in this world…!
I forced my eyes open. Time had passed, and someone was holding my leg.
“Fuck! Don’t touch me!”
Robert Liston was now right in front of me, holding a knife.
“Huh? Why? You’ve got a fever. Bloodletting is the best treatment.”
God, no! This wasn’t the Middle Ages! Please, I was begging you.
When will the ghost of the Four Humors finally be exorcised?
Hippocrates… Sure, he moved medicine past the idea of curses and spirits, but claiming all disease came from “imbalances” in fluids? And treating everything by cutting or burning? Come on.
“I… I have an idea.”
“Do fever patients even think straight?”
“I don’t know, but my whole body feels like it’s on fire…”
“By the way, where am I? This isn’t the hospital, is it?”
If it were a hospital, I would be lying in a shared bed, probably infected by someone else’s pus. Maybe I would be okay under normal circumstances, but not like this.
Right. Search.
I might have been strong compared to nineteenth-century standards, but surviving until now did not mean I was immune.
“Why would we put someone from a decent house into a hospital?”
“Ah…”
My thoughts were all over the place, but I had to admit it. I was lucky to be at Alfred’s house. Cleaner than any hospital, at least.
Wait… bad vibes.
Am I crazy? I should have assumed the risk of secondary infection from unknown bacteria or viruses was lower here. I was overthinking.
“Just… give me some warm water first.”
“Sprinkle water on you?”
“No… I want to drink it.”
“Hmm. If you drink too much, you might get diarrhea.”
What the hell? I had not even had diarrhea yet, so why worry? Besides, if I did have diarrhea, water would be the first thing I needed.
I give up…
This was why people used to die en masse from diseases like Cholera. And now that I was sick, it was clearer than ever. You really could not afford to get sick in this century. You would just die.
I had to argue for ten minutes just to get some water. Thanks to my hard-earned reputation, they finally brought it. Liston still looked disappointed, though.
Stop looking at my ankles like that, you freak…
But that was not all.
“Does your head hurt?”
Dr. Thomas, the self-proclaimed headache treatment expert, was there too. The guy who treated migraines by spinning people in circles. He handed me some Willow Bark.
Well… it was not entirely useless, I guess. He was doing his best with what little he knew.
“I still say we need to draw blood.”
Oh God. Jémel was here too. A doctor, technically, but more of a human butcher.
“Why are there so many of you?”
Too many doctors. That was suspicious. When I asked, Liston chuckled.
“Aren’t you the director’s favorite? Even Princess Victoria was fond of you. I just got here, but others came to check on you too. So recover quickly. Don’t be stubborn. Give me your ankle.”
…That was both flattering and terrifying. Still, I had to protect my ankle at all costs.
Cough.
I did not know if it was from forcing my legs closed or just the fever worsening, but I started coughing hard.
“This isn’t good.”
The quacks huddled again, whispering sinister ideas.
“He’s got a fever and a cough.”
“How about steam?”
“It might help… but the fever could spike.”
Steam? Sure. Just don’t bring mercury or lead…
I swear, I’m going to lose it. I just want to wake up. But that’s not happening, is it?
As I trembled, the door creaked open. I turned. Blundell.
He was drenched in sweat, hurrying for once instead of waddling in.
Thank God. But… what’s that precious thing in your hand?
This was the nineteenth century. No treatment felt safe. Why couldn’t they just put a cold towel on my head and wait it out? I was still a teenager. No chronic illnesses. I could sleep this off.
“What did you bring?”
“Ah. This.”
He held up a glass bottle from a basket. At first glance, it looked like a drink.
Phew…
Okay. Visiting a sick person? Bring drinks or fruit. That was universal, right?
“It’s just a tincture of Opium.”
“…Excuse me?”
“This is good stuff.”
“Why didn’t I think of that?”
Everyone reacted like he had brought the holy grail. Guess it was popular.
Well, British water was famously bad. Lots of people drank beer or spirits instead. In some ways, East Asia was luckier.
Wait… did he say Opium?
Opium? The drug?
No way… And yet, they were excited. Doctors, real doctors, were cheering.
“I always take this when I catch a cold,” Blundell said casually, popping the bottle open.
The smell of alcohol spread through the room.
Okay… alcohol. Just alcohol.
Sure, alcohol for a cold was weird. But it was not the worst. An infection meant you needed to stay hydrated, not dehydrated. Alcohol did the opposite. It worsened circulation and dried you out. Still, better than Opium.
Oh, right. This was Opium.
“One friend said God gave nothing more effective than Opium for pain relief.”
“That’s right.”
“Just don’t overdo it.”
“Actually, I think our hospital should use Opium more seriously.”
Yeah, this was definitely a drug.
“Come on, Pyeong.”
Blundell was one of the few who could pronounce my name properly. He smiled warmly as he approached.
“This isn’t as strong as morphine, but it’s effective.”
“…Excuse me? Morphine?”
He just said morphine. That meant the Germans must have already isolated it.
Wait… morphine’s on the market already?
It could be used in Amputations, sure, but not as a regular painkiller. Respiratory Depression and all that.
“I’ll get you some next time.”
“No, that’s really not necessary.”
Morphine might be less addictive for clinical use, but still, addiction was addiction. I could not become a druggie. I was a professor, for God’s sake.
“Here, drink it all.”
…But the alternative was Bloodletting. Again.
“Still sick? Should I go for the ankle?”
“Let’s try turning him.”
“Or just poke him.”
Too many of them were plotting my death. Even Liston, my usual ally, had turned on me. I had to win him back.
Opium content: five percent.
If ten percent of Opium was morphine, then… this had maybe half a percent morphine?
Just one sip. I’m in pain too, damn it.
Screw it. Better than dying.
I took a sip.
“Gah.”
It tasted like alcohol, strong and foul. Opium and alcohol. Who invented this? Someone trying to erase their soul?
Ugh…
Dizziness hit me like a freight train. And that was all I remembered.
When I woke up, it was morning. Joseph, Alfred, Colin, Liston, and Blundell were all asleep nearby. They had kept watch all night.
“Ankle!”
I sat up, checking. No cuts. No blood.
“Phew…”
I began checking the rest of my body.
Still alive. Still in one piece.
Footnotes
Translator’s Notes
Four Humors — Ancient Greek medical theory associated with Hippocrates and Galen, holding that health depended on balancing blood, phlegm, yellow bile, and black bile. It influenced treatments such as bloodletting for centuries.
Tincture of Opium — Alcohol-based preparation of opium, also known as laudanum, historically used for pain, cough, diarrhea, and sleep despite its addictive and respiratory risks.
Morphine — Opioid alkaloid isolated from opium in the early nineteenth century and later used as a powerful painkiller.
Cholera — Severe diarrheal disease caused by contaminated water or food. The narration references it while criticizing poor hydration and outdated medical beliefs.