The Limbus Pit Ecology Report (2)
*Cough*— I cleared my throat from behind my mask as I walked toward the clinic. Since I was born as Julian, I’d never really been under the impression that I was frail. However, the air and the stench of the Limbus Pit were a bit too much for the lungs of a delicate young master from Sanctum Hill. 'I wonder when I'll be able to take this mask off.'
I was coughing incessantly, unaccustomed to the stench I hadn't smelled in so long, when I made eye contact with a man smoking across the street. His half-closed golden eyes scanned me lazily.
"Hmm?"
The eyes that had been half-lidded as they explored me suddenly widened to the size of full moons.
"Oh! You've arrived, Dr. Schnabel!"
The hyena beastman tossed his cigarette onto the street and approached with a waddling gait. As he drew closer, the scar across his eyebrows and his half-severed ear came into view. He was wearing a black silk vest with arabesque patterns embroidered in gold thread over a burgundy mandarin-collar shirt. Like the buildings of the red-light district, his attire spoke volumes about his origins.
"It's Wangcho."
Wangcho. He was the boss of the , the criminal organization that held this red-light district in its grip. For the record, "Wangcho" was just a nickname; his real name was Tao Chen. But I just called him Wangcho. He was the one who asked me to call him that.
"It's been a while, Wangcho. Have you been well?"
"Haha. I’m always healthy. Did you have any trouble during the heavy snow, Doctor?"
"I spent it resting well in a warm place."
"That’s a relief. Whenever you come here, you never get any warmth and only end up wearing yourself out. Couldn't you take at least a month off a year to rest comfortably?"
He rubbed his hands together with a good-natured smile. It was an ingratiating attitude that made me feel like he was about to ask, 'How much were you thinking of spending?' But one shouldn't be fooled by appearances. Even though he acted like this, this man was the undisputed king of the red-light district who had conquered this sewer. …Come to think of it, his nickname doesn't really carry much gravitas, does it?
"But honestly, I was surprised when I got the letter saying you wouldn't be able to come for six weeks."
"I remember writing that I wouldn't be able to come because of the heavy snow. Did I perhaps forget to write that?"
"Ah, I saw that, of course. But that’s not what I was trying to say."
Wangcho looked around, then brought his mouth close to my ear and whispered, "I thought you had been... taken by a Ducal family, Doctor."
"...Out of the blue?"
"Hey, there's no need to pretend otherwise in front of me. I know, too. That you, Doctor... in Sanctum Hill..."
Wangcho gestured with his eyes. As if to say, 'Shouldn't you understand by now after I've said this much?' Only then did I understand what he was trying to say.
"I understand what you're trying to say, but those are all just rumors."
In the red-light district, a rumor about the crow doctor, Schnabel, was circulating. It was a rumor that I was a slave healer for some Ducal family, but my face was scorched when I failed a treatment, so I started wearing a mask to hide the scars, and I was a 150-year-old eccentric gnome who had been kicked out to the red-light district to live a life of service. The reason such a rumor spread was all because of this mask.
It was a mask I wore because the air in the slums was too much for my body, which had grown accustomed to Sanctum Hill, and to prevent secondary infections. But to people who didn't know the concept of infection, they speculated that there must be some story behind why I never took off the crow mask. As a result of people's imaginations being layered onto that speculation, the aforementioned rumor was created. It's truly impressive how much of a novel people can write based on nothing but a single mask.
"I have no connection to any Ducal family."
"Yes? But didn't you just get out of a car? Didn't you come from Sanctum Hill?"
Cars were the exclusive property of the nobility. From the magic-stone kerosene that moved the car to the parking garage to store it, and the maintenance—the very fact that one could properly operate a machine in this city was power itself.
'Machines are bound to break down at the drop of a hat because of the smog saturated with magic power.'
The more delicate the machine, the more the cost to operate and maintain it skyrocketed. Naturally, the pinnacle of that was a means of transport like a car or an airship. Therefore, it wasn't a stretch for Wangcho to think of the rumor that I was connected to the nobility from the sight of me showing up to work in something like that.
I waved my hand to correct his misunderstanding.
"There was a patient there who needed me."
"Don't tell me the Ducal family called you again!?"
"...Not every noble is a Duke."
"Then, even if not a Duke, you are connected to some noble..."
"..."
"Perhaps... did that noble give you the car as a token of gratitude...?"
I can't even say anything. It wasn't even wrong, so I was at a loss as to where to start correcting his misunderstanding. Then, a fact suddenly flashed through my mind. I've seen this flow somewhere before. That's right. No matter how I look at it, this is the flow of a 'misunderstanding' story. It doesn't seem like the misunderstanding will be cleared up no matter what I say. Realizing it too late, I chose silence.
"..."
Come to think of it, it wasn't a lie either. First of all, even if it was just a Baron, I was of noble descent. I'm roughly 0.01 of a Duke. Since the content is higher than the strawberries in strawberry milk, I was by no means a fraud.
"Doc... tor?"
"..."
"...I won't pry any deeper."
Wangcho interpreted my silence on his own. As if he didn't want to get tangled up in the affairs of the nobles, he blatantly changed the subject.
"Oh, by the way. As you requested, I managed the clinic while you were away."
Wangcho handed me the keys. The reason I entrusted the clinic to Wangcho—it was because in this red-light district, the lock on a building without an owner was synonymous with a prostitute's virginity. No matter how expensive a lock you put on, it was bound to be broken eventually. It was much safer to ask someone to manage the building.
"Are you going to start seeing patients right away?"
"Isn't that the only reason a doctor would come to work?"
"Hahaha. That's true. That was a stupid question."
Jingle. I stood in front of the clinic with the bundle of keys. A roof with slightly upturned eaves, faded red pillars, and an old lantern hanging above the door. They say it was originally a boarding house run by a shaman grandmother who was the only healer for the beastmen. Eight years before I came to the red-light district, that grandmother died of pneumonia and it became an empty house, which I took over. The lantern engraved with a panda that guarded the entrance at the time had now been replaced with a crow mask sign.
Click. I opened the door and went inside.
"It's been a while."
First, a narrow waiting room came into view. Inside the waiting room, there was a partition, and beyond that was the examination room. An examination table where one person could barely lie down. A creaky wooden chair. A cabinet filled with medicine. And beyond the closed door inside the examination room, there was a delivery room for expectant mothers, and on the second floor, there was a room for newborns. This was my clinic. Since it was a clinic converted from a boarding house, it was hard to expect an interior like a 21st-century hospital. But it was a pretty excellent clinic for this much.
"You even cleaned up."
There was the unique smell of the red-light district, but since there was no musty dust smell, it seemed Wangcho had cleaned it periodically. First, I placed a container of herbs near the entrance to clear the smell. Next, inside the shelves. I checked the medicines. Then Wangcho approached and rubbed under his nose.
"I checked the medicines every day. They're my subordinates, but their hands are sticky, so I couldn't trust them."
"It wouldn't matter if they took one or two."
"How could I do that? Even beasts know the grace of being saved. I may not be a man of integrity, but I'm not a beast."
"Thank you, Wangcho."
The medicines were all as they were. Although a few had passed their expiration date and needed to be thrown away. Finally, I picked up a magic-stone lamp from the shelf next to the examination table. When I turned the small spring embedded in the bottom of the palm-sized brass case, a warm orange light dyed the room. For reference, this magic-stone lamp was the third most expensive item in the clinic. Because a light source that doesn't emit oil stains or soot is extremely rare in this world. It was also an indispensable item in my examination room where hygiene was essential.
"Come to think of it, Dr. Schnabel. I'm running out of medicine soon, so..."
"Didn't I give you enough? Did you perhaps have 10 gout attacks in just 6 weeks?"
"Haha..."
"Come inside. I'll take a look and prescribe some medicine."
On the day the clinic opened after a long time. The first patient was Wangcho.
The first patient to return to the clinic after six weeks was Wangcho. Wangcho sat on the small bed and took off his socks.
"Ugh... please bear with it even if it smells a bit."
The area around his big toe joint was swollen and reddish. The skin was stretched tight, looking shiny as if it were about to burst at any moment. Gout. The disease of the nobility and the king, said to be painful even if just the wind brushes against it. It was known to the people of this world as a disease caused by uric acid crystals accumulating in the joints when one excessively consumes protein, especially meat or alcohol rich in purines. I know it by rule of thumb. 'Though there are many studies in the 21st century that genetics and kidneys are more important.'
By the 21st century, it felt like the weight of gout had shifted slightly toward metabolic problems rather than dietary habits. Still, the influence of dietary habits on gout cannot be excluded. Moreover, the patient in front of me enjoyed meat and alcohol heavily, fitting his epithet as the owner of the red-light district. At least for this human, it was correct that it was due to his dietary habits. He drank so much beer that even healthy kidneys couldn't handle it and would end up with gout.
"You didn't reduce your meat and alcohol at all."
"Hahaha... can you tell by looking?"
"The nodules have gotten bigger, so I can't help but know."
I sighed and pressed the affected area slightly.
"Ugh! Ahhh...!"
Wangcho screamed and pulled back his foot. To think that a man who was the owner of the red-light district was sweating just because I pressed one toe. Even a 1st-class superhuman was no match for gout.
"Look at this. Both the size of the nodules and the pain have gotten worse. If this continues, even your kidneys will be ruined."
"No, life is tough, so if I don't even have alcohol, what joy is there in living? Haha..."
"If you keep looking for joy like that, you'll find the road to the afterlife first."
While scolding him, I turned my body toward the shelf. I unlocked the lock with a clatter and habitually took out a medicine bottle.
A brown bottle labeled Colchicum autumnale in Latin. It was colchicine extracted from the bulbs of autumn crocus.
"Ah, come to think of it, Doctor, it's become really difficult to get crocus from outside the walls lately. The potion merchants have swept them all up, sigh."
"It must be because it's hibernation season. It's a time when potion demand is at its peak."
The period immediately after the heavy snow ends is called the hibernation season. Another expression is the subjugation season. This is because it's a season when it's relatively easy to subjugate magical beasts that haven't fully woken up from their sleep. It's also a time when they try to reduce the numbers as much as possible, even if it's a bit of a stretch, because it will be difficult in the autumn if they don't reduce them a lot now.
"But why do those potion merchants put this in potions? Because of this, whenever I drink a potion, my back leaks the next day, sigh. I hesitate to drink it even though I want to live because I'm embarrassed."
"It can't be helped. If they don't, you'll suffer more from other things."
Potions don't just have healing effects. There are trace amounts of toxins, so there is a risk of accumulation if they stay in the internal organs for a long time. At this time, autumn crocus is used to induce diarrhea to quickly remove those toxins. In other words, that was an intended effect, not a side effect of the potion. When I explained that fact to him, Wangcho clapped his hands.
"No wonder. So the fact that my sphincter loosened last time after taking this medicine was also an intended effect."
"That's because Wangcho didn't follow the dosage."
At Wangcho's words, my first meeting with him came to mind. My relationship with Wangcho began when I diagnosed his limping state and treated his gout. The problem was that at the time, I was underestimating the common sense of the people of this world. The people of this world thought that the more medicine you took, the better. So, on the day I first prescribed the medicine, this gentleman took 4 pills at once and had a storm of diarrhea as if he were going to pour out his internal organs. It was an unprecedented incident where the owner of the red-light district and a 1st-class superhuman almost crossed the Jordan River due to dehydration. Feeding him water, feeding him potions, feeding him porridge... anyway, it was a mess.
Anyway. Wangcho received the medicine bag with a grin.
"Haha. Well, what does diarrhea matter? This medicine is quite the thing. In the past, I worried about whether I should just cut off my toe, but if I take this, it doesn't hurt at all the next day."
"What's the point if your habits remain the same no matter how much medicine you take? Do you have no intention of reducing meat and alcohol?"
"Hahaha..."
Wangcho let out a dry laugh as he received the bag containing 5 pills. For reference, the reason I give him a small amount of medicine at a time is because I can't trust this gentleman. This is because he has a miraculous calculation method where the more medicine he has left, the more relieved he feels and the more alcohol he drinks. Wangcho puts the medicine bag he received from me into his inner pocket.
I said to him as he got up from the bed.
"I'll see you again next month. If the attack is severe, come even before that."
"Thank you, Doctor."
Wangcho put on his socks and stood up. Then, as if he had remembered something, he clicked his fingers and stopped for a moment at the door.
"Oh, by the way, Doctor."
"Yes?"
"There are some patients who have been backed up for 6 weeks. There are midwives you trained, but they can't replace you, can they? I've organized them in order of urgency, should I send them over?"
This was the secret to him becoming Wangcho. The Limbus Pit was nothing more than meat shields not worth protecting by the state. Wangcho was the one who took care of the poor who could not receive the protection of such administrative power on behalf of the state. Therefore, the majority of the patients and expectant mothers at this clinic were also people sent by Wangcho.
"Please do."
"Understood. Then, I'll be going."
Wangcho left, and I looked around the empty examination room for a while. It's quiet now, but well. I could clearly see that it would be filled with the screams of midwives and the cries of babies in just half a day. Considering the patients backed up for 6 weeks, I have to assume that a chaotic market will open for the time being. There's a reason why they say it's the calm before the storm.
'Sigh... should I rest a little in advance?'
I laid my body on the hard chair and enjoyed a moment of peace.