Chapter 168: Sailing [1]
All right.
The coachman shamelessly climbed up onto the carriage, his face still flushed red.
Is there no law against drunk driving yet?
Apparently not. Hunting still seemed popular among aristocrats and the nouveau riche. Before I came here, I could not understand how hunting could be a hobby instead of just a means of survival. But noble hunting trips were not exactly frugal. They were basically picnics with guns. They drank, rode horses, and shot things. So if drinking while riding a horse was fine, what was the big deal about drinking while driving a carriage?
“Hey, Uncle, watch where you’re going!”
“Huh? I’m watching.”
“What do you mean, watching?! You almost hit a tree!”
“No, no. The horses are watching everything.”
“Ah…”
Right. The horses were not drunk. Later, I realized that even though the coachman was slurring like a drunk dog, the horses were moving steadily. He was not completely reckless. He was not speeding or crashing. Just… mildly irresponsible.
If they ever invent cars in this kind of environment, it’ll be a disaster.
Would people like this seriously be allowed to drive? They already drank and shot at the same time. If you think I am exaggerating, come live here for a week and see for yourself.
When was the first car made again?
No idea. If I had known I was going to be thrown into the past, I would have brushed up on history. But that regret did not last long. How could anyone possibly expect this? You become a professor, get diagnosed with a brain tumor, die in a traffic accident, and wake up in nineteenth-century London. Who prepares for that?
As I zoned out, Joseph nudged me.
“What are you thinking about again?”
I had been eyeing the horses while fiddling with the talisman the old man gave me.
“Uh…”
My mouth moved before I had time to think.
“I was just wondering if you’re okay, Uncle.”
“As expected, you’re a good guy.”
The words came out naturally, as if I had activated a passive charm skill.
“Anyway, the ship… I thought it was fine—”
“Because of you?”
“Uh-huh. My dad’s not usually that strict, is he?”
“He’s cruel…”
A truly serious person could not survive surgery in the nineteenth century. Even with anesthesia, local numbing was not possible, and every splash of disinfectant stung like hell. Without antibiotics or proper sterilization, treatment was just layers of pain stacked on top of more pain.
“You can drink.”
“No way. The surgical site is still swollen.”
“Everyone says it’s fine.”
“Ah…”
I guess it was a bit unfair to judge a guy who wanted a drink the day after getting cut open. It just showed how brutal sea travel was.
“Everything will be fine. Dr. Liston’s here, right?”
“Hopefully. You think so?”
“It will.”
“What can the sea do…?”
Even so, we were nervous, thanks to the old man’s terrified expression and the talisman he had handed us.
By the time we arrived in London, Alfred was already waiting.
“How’s your father?”
“Oh? Ah. Our Pyeong here did an amazing job on the surgery.”
“You’re incredible. I heard it was stomach surgery? How did you know it was an ulcer?”
Back in the day, this kind of thing would have amazed them. But now?
“I saw it during dissection.”
“Aha.”
Too late to take it back. Still, thanks to my obsession with dissection, anything I said sounded believable.
“Anyway, I started treatment from the stomach.”
“Wow… I should really thank you.”
“Your dad went abroad, didn’t he? He must be a trader now.”
“Right, of course. I doubt he carries a talisman around, though.”
Not likely. What sailor carried a talisman? They just went with the flow. Literally.
“Ah, right. My mind’s slipping.”
As always, my expectations were flipped. Before I knew it, Alfred handed me a talisman, newer than the one Joseph’s father had given me.
“I told you to keep this with you.”
“Don’t we all believe in the Lord?”
“Who knows. They say it’s tradition.”
“Ah…”
These guys. They acted like devoted Christians, but honestly, it was all for show. Lord this, Lord that, and then off they went to plunder colonies.
“Anyway, take today to rest. We’ll leave tomorrow. I heard our cabin is really nice. It shouldn’t be too bad.”
“Oh…”
My irritation faded quickly. Yeah. If there was a cabin, I was fine. Grace came in many forms. Sure, the British did terrible things to world history, but that did not mean every Brit was bad. With that comforting thought, I drank some good Upton wine and called it a night.
And so, morning came.
“Ugh…”
I was not standing in front of the ship. It was more like I was standing in front of Dr. Liston.
“Why do you look so shocked?”
He always looked like a warrior, but now he looked like a full-blown wandering warrior. He had clearly hired someone to help, yet he was carrying three times their weight himself. How the hell did he do that? Mana?
“Shouldn’t we experiment with surgical masks and show off our modern techniques?”
“You brought a body?”
“What kind of nonsense—of course not. It would rot.”
“Ah…”
Was rot the only concern? Just pickle it in formalin. Oh, right. That did not exist yet.
“Pyeong, you know how sloppy the French are with their laws, right?”
“Ah… yes.”
Even if I did not know, I had to pretend I did. I guess Liston had a bad experience with a Frenchman once. He really hated them.
“Anyway, there are upsides. I heard it’s easy to get corpses there. They dig them up right after burial, so there’s barely any dirt on them.”
“Ah…”
So it was not just London that was uncivilized. I had hoped Paris would be better.
“Oh, and one more thing. You heard about the revolution in Paris, right?”
Everyone nodded except me. Was he talking about the French Revolution? Marie Antoinette? While I hesitated, Liston continued.
“They say a bunch of nobles died. But that’s their problem. It doesn’t concern us. Colin?”
“Yes?”
“Keep your head down. You’re not that noticeable, so I’m not too worried.”
“Yes…”
Ouch. That was casually cruel. But Liston was already turning back toward the ship.
“Oh, and I got us a list of restaurants from my contacts. The French might be bad at a lot of things, but their food is excellent.”
Now that was something to look forward to. In my past life, I never had much exposure to French cuisine. Maybe because I died just as my academic career was taking off. Or maybe it just did not suit me. Still…
It has to be a hundred times better than British food.
At least it would beat eel jelly or boiled fish with raw cucumbers. Honestly, I think the British lost their taste buds centuries ago. Or maybe their noses.
Wait.
Could the foul Thames have warped their palates over generations? Did growing up with that stench ruin their ability to season food?
“Come on, let’s go. They said our cabin is amazing.”
As I pondered that disturbing possibility, Liston led us toward the ship.
A sailing ship. With actual sails.
Wait. Wasn’t this the era of steam engines? I had seen drawings of steam locomotives being tested.
“It’s a clipper. Supposed to be really fast.”
No, seriously, where were the steamers? Why were we using a sailing ship in the nineteenth century?
“And it’s new.”
“Really?”
This felt more like the Age of Exploration. And just then—
“Ah, careful—!”
A rough-looking sailor, straight out of a sea novel, bumped into Dr. Liston, glared at him, and promptly dropped like a sack of bricks.
Okay. Maybe I don’t need to worry too much.
It should be fine. I had secretly hoped for a Titanic-level ship, but this one was not bad. No, our cabin was downright luxurious.
“Wow.”
“You really spent a lot.”
“Yeah. First class. Different food, too. They said it wasn’t expensive since the trip’s short.”
“Oh…”
Nice. Very nice.
Until the ship actually set sail.
“Urk.”
In my past life, I thought I did not get seasick. I was wrong. Horribly wrong. I could not believe people survived this rocking.
“Pyeong… you’re so weak.”
Liston, of course, was fine. Naturally. Everyone else, including passengers from other groups, looked just as green as I did.
“All right, passengers, take your seats! Storm incoming!”
Ah. So this was not normal.
We huddled in our room, pulled out our talismans and crosses, and started praying.
The funniest part was that even Liston had a talisman.
Maybe I puked myself into exhaustion, or maybe the prayers worked. Either way, I eventually passed out.