The Only Path
Three weeks had passed.
Even though it hadn't been long since the bubble in the City of London burst, the madness on Wall Street was inflating one last, desperate bubble, as if it were the final flicker of a dying candle. Meanwhile, the Chicago Cubs were preparing to head to the World Series, having secured their first National League pennant in eleven years since the Great War, to the thunderous cheers of all Chicagoans.
During that time, Gu-jik and I had been making preparations to survive the apocalypse that would arrive in a month.
To increase the cash on hand to keep the company and the organization afloat, we sold off unnecessary assets, such as the breweries that had ceased operations. I also tinkered with the Capone Foundation, which had been doing nothing more than providing free meals, refining its structure so that it would function without a hitch even if it were to link up with the National Association later on.
Of course, I hadn't neglected the qualitative changes within the organization during that time, either.
"Mr. Lee."
"Yes, Mr. Choi."
"I told you before, but leave the educational content entirely to me. If you try to interfere even a little, I'll quit on the spot."
I nodded readily at the Pyongan-do accent of Mr. Choi Neung-jin, who was heading toward the classroom we had created by renovating the second floor of an empty commercial building in Cicero.
"Of course. You should do exactly as you wish. That is why I brought you here, after all."
According to Mr. Kim Gyeong, he was the most steadfast and academically gifted among the Korean students currently studying abroad in Chicago.
Furthermore, thanks to his activities with the Heungsadan, I almost got rejected the moment he heard rumors about me, but a few words and a monthly tuition of $200 were enough to persuade Mr. Choi.
'Didn't Mencius say that the nature of man is inherently good? The Italians who came to America only do what they do to survive because stealing is all they've learned; if they receive a proper education, they too will change.'
It wasn't a wrong statement.
Isn't it true that handling ledgers and counting goods is less violent than shooting guns and swinging knives at people? If a guy who used to extort money by throwing punches at someone else's shop changes his profession to counting moonshine inventory at a club, wouldn't that be a form of rehabilitation?
This was, strictly speaking, social work.
"Since these are people who came because they wanted to learn, I doubt this will happen, but if anyone treats you with disrespect, tell me or the guys outside the classroom, and we will handle it."
"That is fine. Dealing with such things is ultimately the teacher's role, is it not?"
Creak.
With that answer, Mr. Choi Neung-jin opened the closed classroom door and walked inside.
As I followed him in, I saw the organization members sitting on desks and chairs we had scavenged from a nearby defunct company office.
Of course, they weren't exactly behaving.
Scritch-scratch-!
"...Suddenly, three guys rushed at me. I thought, 'You guys picked the wrong day,' and just..."
There was a guy doodling on the desk with a knife, another bragging to his peers about how many people he'd roughed up today and how, and even a guy who had opened his notebook but had a horse racing newspaper spread out next to it, calculating odds.
If this kept up, I wouldn't have anything to say to Mr. Choi.
Thud-! Thud-!
When I slammed my fist against the blackboard hanging on the wall a few times, the organization members finally stopped what they were doing and looked toward me.
"Focus. I've brought a teacher."
"...An Oriental?"
"The teacher was an Oriental?"
The organization members frowned the moment they saw this side—specifically, Mr. Choi's face. Because I was right next to them, they didn't make a scene and only whispered, but they seemed quite dissatisfied.
However.
"If you have a problem, speak up now. I'll tell the Boss directly."
At my follow-up, the whispering vanished as if it had never been there. It was only natural, of course, because the moment they said they had a problem, they would be used as targets at the shooting range's lane 3, accompanied by the words, 'So, is Lee a problem too?'
Their expressions still didn't look great, but Mr. Choi would handle that himself, and...
I had to say what I needed to say.
"I will consider appointing the student with the best grades in this class as a middle manager at the Green Mill club. That is why we are holding this class."
Green Mill.
The moment the name of the club that generated the highest profit among those operated by the organization was mentioned, the eyes of the seated members changed.
It took less than three seconds for the expressions of the guys who had been full of annoyance to become filled with academic fervor.
As expected, they only work hard when there's bait. I'm glad I checked with Gu-jik beforehand to see if there were any vacancies.
"The grades will be decided entirely by the teacher here, so you'd better work hard. If you try to pull any nonsense, I won't let it slide."
In the first place, given Mr. Choi's personality, he was someone who wouldn't budge for bribes or threats, so whatever they tried would literally be a waste of effort anyway.
"Mr. Choi, I look forward to your guidance."
"I, too, will teach them well, as much as you trust me."
With those words, I stepped out of the classroom.
Now then, time to head home...
"Mr. Lee!"
What is it?
"What's the matter?"
I asked Rizo, my driver and personal bodyguard, who was running up the stairs and calling me urgently.
Soon, I understood the reason for his desperation.
"I think you need to get to the hospital quickly."
"The hospital?"
"Your wife is currently in labor..."
If it's labor...
"Let's go. You know which hospital it is, right?"
"Yes, I will take you there immediately."
So, am I becoming a father now?
"Waaah-! Waaaaaah-!"
Fortunately, the child was able to come into the world without any major issues.
"This is... my child..."
Since I didn't have children in my previous life, this was the first baby I had ever faced, spanning both my past and present lives. My feelings as I looked at the boy, who didn't even have a name yet, were complicated.
It was a feeling of relief and joy mixed with a bit of responsibility.
Of course, if I had to weigh it, it was 99 percent joy and 1 percent responsibility.
"It's our child, honey..."
Rita, who had now become a mother, lay in bed with a tired expression while holding the baby. A smile that looked happier than ever was spread across her lips.
"Yes... it's our child. You worked really hard, Rita. Let's go home now and get some rest."
"Hehe, I am a bit tired. But I want to hold him a little longer."
"Yes, yes."
After all, since Rita had been with him for ten months, it was only natural that she would feel more attached.
I nodded toward her as she gently held the baby wrapped in a blanket, and I stared blankly at the child sleeping soundly inside the blanket.
"Rita!"
It was then that my father-in-law ran into the hospital room as if he were sprinting.
"Rita, are you okay?"
"Of course. Here, it's honey's and my child."
"Ha... a grandson at this age... people in the world will be surprised if they find out."
That, just hearing it, sounds like a very difficult situation. But unlike his words, seeing his expression twitch, it seemed my father-in-law was also happy to have a grandson.
"Congratulations, Boss."
"Lee, thanks to you, I'm going through all sorts of things."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
Indeed, it was a joyous occasion. Yes, it certainly was.
Now that I'm going home, I'll have to decide on a name for the baby with Rita. Smiling at my father-in-law, I savored this new happiness in my life.
Up to this point, there were no problems at all.
"Ho, honey..."
"Rita!"
That was until two days later, when Rita collapsed.
"...It is puerperal fever."
The doctor at the hospital where Rita had been readmitted just two days after her discharge finished his examination and answered with a dark expression.
"Puerperal fever... you said?"
My father-in-law, who heard the doctor's answer from the side, was horrified.
What kind of disease is it to make him like that? I feel like I've heard it a few times in my life...
"What kind of disease is that?"
"It is a fairly common condition that occurs after childbirth. The wound site from the delivery becomes infected with bacteria, causing sepsis."
Sepsis?
Isn't that dangerous?
"Then... how do you treat it?"
There must be a cure, surely. This is the biggest and most famous hospital in Chicago...
"I am sorry, but... it is still impossible to treat with modern medicine."
No, that can't be.
If a bacterial infection is the cause, it's just a disease where you kill the bacteria, right? Yes, it's 1929, so penicillin should have been discovered by now. If it's that...
"Penicillin, what about penicillin? Can't she get better with that?"
I asked the doctor, clutching at a thin thread of hope. But.
"I am sorry, but I do not know what that is."
...What?
At the doctor's unexpected answer, my head, having lost its hope, went numb.
"I mean, it comes from blue mold..."
"This is a hospital. If you are talking about folk remedies..."
"It's not a folk remedy, I'm telling you it must have already been discovered! A person named Fleming discovered it..."
"I am sorry, but I am hearing that name for the first time as well."
This is nonsense.
You really don't know? If there's no penicillin, that means there are no antibiotics. Then...
"I am sorry. In our hospital, there is no treatment method we can offer other than stabilizing the patient."
"Damn it, I'll give you as much money as you want. If you just save my daughter, I'll give you enough money to buy this entire hospital...!"
"Money is not the issue, Mr. Capone. I am sorry."
Really, is it ending like this?
Should I just sit and pray and send Rita away?
"What? Is that what a doctor is saying right now...!"
"M, Mr. Capone!"
The scene of Al Capone grabbing the doctor by the collar drifts away like something from another world. A strange sensation, as if the world is moving without me, consumes my entire body along with despair.
No, I can't end it like this.
There must be... there must be a way.
I bit my lip hard to wake myself up, then moved my thought circuits rapidly.
First of all, it's impossible to get penicillin right now. Even if I could refine it, there's no way to get the blue mold that produces penicillin, so I'll pass on that.
What is something that has antibacterial effects and that I can get my hands on right now?
All the knowledge I brought from my previous life, and among that, the list of all kinds of chemical substances I learned in college and synthesized myself, flashes through my mind.
Surely, somewhere among these, there must be a substance that can save Rita.
There is no possibility that there isn't.
That was the only way I could try to save her right now.
And.
"...Sulfanilamide."
Finally, I was able to set out on the only path.
"Boss, I will return in two days."
"What?"
"Please... take care of Rita."
Tap-tap-tap-!
Leaving behind my father-in-law, who was looking back at me while holding the doctor by the collar, I ran toward Rizo, who would be waiting in the Cadillac.
"Huff, huff."
"Mr. Lee?"
To Rizo, who was surprised because I appeared suddenly, I panted and opened my mouth.
"Right now, we must search every chemical wholesaler in Chicago."
Only then can I save Rita.