The Sixth Victim
After deciding to bring out one of the Three Divine Treasures, the days that followed were no different from the usual. On weekdays, I saw patients at the clinic, occasionally donated blood to Eri, sometimes attended my master’s lectures, and almost every evening, I secretly cooked dinner. It was a repetitive but rewarding life. That was how winter passed.
Only when the number of patients at the clinic with cracked heads from being hit by icicles hanging from the eaves began to increase did I start to feel that spring was finally arriving. In the meantime, my birthday had also passed. Sixteen. The age my father had spoken of.
— “When you turn sixteen, you either help with your parents’ work or make a name for yourself fighting beyond the walls.”
At the time, I had chosen to help with my father’s work, and he had promised to call for me once he was certain the situation was safe. My first day of work was decided at the breakfast table on a day when the first spring rain began to fall. That morning, Freya was yawning beside me, still half-asleep. She was bringing a piece of bread without butter to her lips. She had been eating bread without butter lately to lose weight. It must taste absolutely terrible.
“Julian.” My father, sitting across from me, spoke while spreading butter on his bread.
“Yes, Father.”
“An incident has occurred that requires me to take you with me today.” His hand, spreading butter on the bread, did not stop.
“What kind of incident is it?”
“Between last winter and this spring, five newborns from noble families have passed away. The incidents occurred in two Count families and three Baron families.”
Freya’s chewing sound stopped. Looking to the side, I saw Freya staring at Father with eyes wide awake. Father took a bite of his buttered bread and only after swallowing a sip of coffee did he continue.
“According to the parents’ testimonies, there was a commonality among the deceased children. They said they first fussed severely, then started vomiting, and then their whole bodies went limp and began to tremble.”
“Could it not be a simple illness?”
“It would be too strange for five to have the same symptoms for that to be the case. Above all, those five families were all currently part of the same faction of Prince Auguste.”
Oh. As soon as I heard that, I started to smell something foul. A noble child dying in this era? That can happen. Five children dying in succession around the same time? That can rarely happen if an epidemic breaks out. But the fact that they all belong to one faction? That could never be a coincidence. In most cases like this, it is reasonable to suspect that a hostile faction has cast a curse. Now that I think about it, the scale of this incident seems quite large? Is this really safe? Won't we just end up in danger if we go digging around for no reason?
“It has not yet been confirmed whether it is a curse. However, the Imperial Court is only hearing what they want to hear. That is because the picture of a factional struggle has already been drawn. That is why I have been dispatched.”
“Does Father not belong to any faction?”
“That is correct.” Father finished his breakfast by calmly sipping the remaining coffee. “An inspector is also scheduled to be dispatched. Since it is an incident involving an Imperial faction, they are not going to leave a judicial officer alone.”
An inspector. As soon as I heard that, I could feel relieved. An inspector is a position that digs into the corruption of nobles. Among the roles of an inspector at this time, they also serve to monitor the imperial succession competition so that it does not overheat. In other words, the fact that an inspector was dispatched to this incident was no different from the Emperor’s warning not to cross the line any further.
“With the decision to dispatch an inspector this time, I became certain that this incident is safe. So, let us head to work together starting today.”
“I understand, Father. Then I will prepare the medicine.” I stood up and headed to my room to pack my medical bag. I packed IV fluids, an emergency kit for trauma, heparin, cocaine dilution… and other medicines I thought I might need as they came to mind. As I finished packing the medicines and left the study, I ran into Eri at the end of the hallway.
“Teacher, be careful.”
If it were her usual self, she might have tagged along. But I must not forget the purpose of this field trip. I am following along as my father’s child right now. Taking Eri along in this situation would have plenty of room to cause problems.
“I’ll be back, Eri.” I brushed Eri’s red hair once and went down the stairs. Father was already standing in the foyer with his coat on. As the butler opened the door, a car was waiting outside. However, instead of the head butler standing by the car as usual, someone else was standing there.
‘That person is…’
It was Father’s aide. His name was Heinz. I had seen his face occasionally when he came to visit Father for work. The complexion of Heinz, waiting by the car, was not good, to put it mildly.
“Judicial Officer Hendel.” Heinz bowed his head and handed over a sealed document envelope. “An emergency report came in early this morning.”
“What is it?”
“It is the sixth one.”
Father’s hand, which had been taking the document out of the envelope, paused for a moment. But Father did not show it, took out the document, and checked the contents. It took less than ten seconds to scan the document inside.
“The symptoms are… identical. Is it the same faction this time as well?”
“Yes. It is the Belheim Count family, of Prince Auguste’s faction.”
“When did the incident occur?”
“One hour ago.”
“Then is the baby alive?”
“…It is still alive.”
Father folded the document and put it in the inside pocket of his coat. And he turned his head toward me over his shoulder.
“You heard, Julian.”
I nodded without hesitation. “If we hurry, we can save it.”
“Understood. Let us go immediately.”
The Belheim Count’s mansion was a little over ten minutes away from our house by car. While passing quickly through the trees of Sanctum Hill, I placed my medical bag on my lap and checked the medicines once more.
‘Synthesizing the baby’s symptoms…’
Several minutes passed while I prepared in the car. Before long, the car stopped. When the gate opened, a garden with a fresh green hue came into view. It is a well-tended garden that is hard to see within these walls. Our house doesn’t have a garden like this because no one really enjoys it even though we have money… Ah, what am I thinking about in this situation? I took my eyes off the garden and looked toward the foyer. People were gathered in front of the foyer. Two servants, one maid, and one healing priest wearing black clerical robes. None of them had a good complexion.
Father got out first. When he showed his judicial officer’s seal, the servants cleared the way.
“Where is the child?”
“On the second floor, Judicial Officer. The Madam is holding the child.”
“Guide me.”
“But that child is…”
The adults’ gazes turned to me in unison. Father dismissed those suspicious eyes.
“He is a renowned healer. There is no time for explanations, so just guide us.”
“Understood, sir.”
Father walked up the stairs with long strides, following the servant. I followed behind. At the end of the second-floor hallway, crying could be heard from beyond the open door. It was a cry too mature to be a child’s cry. It was the sound of mothers who had lost their babies, which I could often hear at the Limbus Pit clinic. Entering the room where the crying was heard, I saw the Madam sitting on the bed. A woman who looked to be just over twenty was sobbing. In her arms, a limp baby was being held. I quickly checked the baby’s condition.
‘It is not a tonic-clonic seizure. But it is not a petit mal seizure either.’
The list of diseases that can cause convulsions is quickly erased from my mind. What is visible in the child now is a repetition of intermittent tonic phases. The whole body stiffened like a board, relaxed for a few seconds, and then stiffened again, which is a different principle from a seizure.
‘Check for horizontal nystagmus as well.’
The eyes were half-closed, and the eyeballs were shaking minutely in a horizontal direction. This means there is a problem with the cerebellum or brainstem. Intermittent tonic seizures, horizontal nystagmus, pupil dilation, hypertonia. Differential diagnoses went down one after another in my head. Hypocalcemia? It is common in newborns, but nystagmus is not this distinct. Intracranial hemorrhage? It would be possible if it were a difficult birth, but the possibility is too low at 2 months old. Congenital metabolic disorder? It could be suspected if it were a single case. But unless the six families are the Habsburg dynasty, there is no way they would have the same genetic disease at the same time.
What remains is…
‘Exogenous.’
And candidates for substances that can cause such symptoms naturally came to mind. ‘If it is that…’
I definitely came to treat, but I ended up deducing the culprit as well. If I wanted to, I could hold a deduction show here. But what is urgent now is to save the child.
‘First, stop the convulsions.’
While the convulsions are in progress, the body begins to consume an enormous amount of oxygen compared to usual. As a result, breathing cannot keep up with the rate of consumption, and if this situation continues, the brain will become oxygen-deprived. And I don’t need to explain what will happen to a brain that has become oxygen-deprived.
I took my eyes off the child and looked at the Madam holding the child.
“Please let me see the child.”
The Madam raised her head. Bloodshot eyes were looking up at me. The man standing behind her, who seemed to be the Count of Belheim, blocked me. He glared not at me, but at Father, and said.
“Who is this child, Judicial Officer.”
“He is my son. He is also a healer.”
“A healer? At this age?”
Suspicious gazes were fixed on my face. I did not react to those gazes. In a strict sense, I was not a healer, but there was no benefit in revealing that in this situation. The Count’s gaze toward me, who did not answer, became a little sharper.
“Three healing priests have performed rituals so far, but it has been of no use.”
“Because it was not a curse.”
The room went quiet at my answer. The Count’s eyes became sharp, but I did not care.
“How can you guarantee that it is not a curse?”
“Then I will ask you in return. What kind of curse causes such symptoms in a baby?”
“…I don’t know much about black magic.”
“There is nothing as irresponsible as lumping vague ignorance into a curse. Can a hunter pulling the string in a fog where the target is not even visible catch the prey?”
The Count glared at me as if he would pierce through me. “Then can you see beyond that fog?”
“I am human too, so I cannot do that. But ultimately, diagnosis is a series of acts of shooting arrows toward the target with the highest probability. I know roughly where the target that will be hit best is.”
The Count shut his mouth. There was a moment of silence, and he opened his mouth again.
“…I entrust my first child to you.”
The Count stepped aside. In the meantime, the child’s body stiffened once more. Inside the Madam’s arms, the small back bent like a bow. I did not wait any longer.
“Madam. You must put the child down.”
The Madam’s fingers were gripping the child’s undershirt tightly. It was a scene I often saw at the pediatric emergency room and the Limbus Pit. It is not that she does not trust the doctor. She is afraid that the warmth she feels now will be the last. I knew the words I could say for such mothers.
“Don’t worry. It is not a major illness.”
The Madam’s pupils wavered. Of course, I know that my words are contradictory. If it is not a major illness, does it make sense that other babies with similar symptoms are dying? But just by the doctor showing such a calm appearance, patients tend to feel a great sense of relief. And it was the same this time. The Madam hesitated for a moment, then handed the baby to me. I took the child and laid him on the bed.
When I was 12, it was hard for me to move a baby by myself. Since turning 16, it was no longer a problem to do it alone. Thanks to that, there is one more technique that has become possible.
‘Judging by the weight… around 2 months old. Around 4 kilograms?’
I also re-checked the convulsion pattern before treatment. Tonic phase 10 seconds, relaxation phase 5 seconds. Nystagmus is still ongoing. Skin color is pale but no cyanosis yet. No head trauma. Breathing is still holding on.
‘There is time.’
I immediately opened my medical bag and took out a medicine bottle. Inside was a transparent crystal. It was an anticonvulsant I had accidentally created while trying to make an anesthetic a while ago. When I opened the lid, the unique pungent smell stung my nose. ‘As expected. I’m glad I brought this when I heard it was a convulsion.’
I took out a distilled water vial, a syringe, and a thin rubber tube from my medical bag. I scooped the crystal with the tip of the syringe and dissolved it in the distilled water. The transparent crystal slowly dissolved in the water.
“What are you doing, Julian?”
I did not answer Father’s words. Instead, I checked the concentration of the solution with my eyes. Weight 4kg. Considering the rectal absorption rate, I calculate the appropriate dosage. …The calculation is correct, right? *Sigh.* I’m not a pediatrics major, so I’m not very good at this. But there was no one to confirm if this was correct. Ultimately, I entrusted it to the power of the misunderstanding, filled the syringe with the solution, and connected it to the rubber tube. And I lifted the child’s lower body.
“Wait, what…”
The Count stepped forward. Before the Count could stop me, I applied lubricant to the end of the rubber tube and carefully inserted it into the child’s anus. The room froze. Everyone except me opened their mouths. In the middle of that gaze, I pressed the plunger of the syringe firmly.
“It will be fine in 5 minutes.”
I said, pointing to the clock on the wall. In the meantime, I started looking for the child’s vein. It is a baby’s vein that is small and faint to begin with. With convulsions added to that, it was not an easy task. But since there were many babies in even more serious condition at the Limbus Pit, it was not that difficult of a task. After securing the intravenous line and administering the IV fluid in 5 minutes like that, I touched the child’s forehead with the back of my hand. It was an action that also checked the body temperature.
That was when it happened.
The five fingers that had been clenched white until just a moment ago slowly unfolded and grabbed my finger. Along with that, the child’s breathing began to return. The child’s convulsions had stopped.
“The convulsions…!”
“My god…”
Only after touching the baby’s body and checking other reflexes did I turn my head toward the Count and his wife.
“Our baby is safe now. Ah, but I’m late with the question. What is our baby’s name?”
I turned toward the Count and his wife and smiled brightly. The Count and his wife hesitated. Soon, the Count answered with his voice trembling minutely.
“…Tina. Tina Belheim.”
“Tina. That’s a good name.”
Behind the Count and his wife, Father was nodding with a proud expression.