The Firefly Prince (Part 2)
A few days had passed since my sudden encounter with the Tier 2 dark mage and my strange meeting with the old mage named Fitch. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened since. I had simply gone down to the Limbus Pit with Eri to treat patients.
"Ta-da, ta-da~"
I hummed a ridiculous tune, completely shattering my usual calm demeanor. My current patient was an eight-month-old baby.
"Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo..."
A doctor's greatest nemesis is a baby. No amount of communication or negotiation works on them. Oh, you're a world-class doctor who graduated from Harvard Medical School? Cool. I'm gonna cry anyway. In front of a baby, all of a doctor's skills and knowledge are utterly useless. Babies are invincible; they are gods to a physician. Therefore, one must cast aside all dignity and authority when dealing with them.
"Lalala, lilili..."
This singing was a specialized skill developed by pediatricians to administer injections. First, you completely distract the child with a song or a toy, and then you stick them before they even realize what is happening. For the record, I didn't think this skill compromised my noble character. A true doctor must be willing to play the clown, bow their head in hospital corridors, or throw a tantrum in front of politicians if it is for the sake of their patient. At least, that was how I had been taught. Though my peers back in my previous life had been far too stiff-necked.
"Teacher..."
Fortunately, my efforts didn't lead to a total collapse of Julian's calm persona. If anything, I could feel both Eri and the baby's mother looking at me with deep respect. ...It was respect, right? Surely they weren't looking at me with pity?
"Ethan, look at this. What's this?"
"Babubba!"
In any case, after about fifteen minutes of concentrated effort, the baby's guard finally crumbled. His gaze locked onto the beak of my mask. Seizing the moment of distraction, I pricked his thigh with a 3x3 grid of needles. It was a vaccine made by weakening the virus with a mixture of cowpox pus and diluted holy water. Though scientifically a bit different, I referred to it as the Jennerian vaccination for convenience. Prick. A tiny dot was left on Ethan's thigh. The baby blinked his eyes, seemingly realizing he had been tricked, but the injection was already done.
"Ethan is very healthy. You don't have to worry about syphilis."
"Oh, thank you so much, Doctor."
The mother let out a sigh of relief. I gently pinched the cheek of the baby, who was still staring at my beak with wide, sparkling eyes.
"By the way, Doctor, what was that you just did to Ethan's thigh?"
"It is a sort of spell to ensure good health. You can think of it as a strengthening engraving."
"Ah, I see."
Ethan's mother nodded. It was still a bit too early to introduce the concept of vaccines to this world. That was why I had babies brought in at one, three, six, and twelve months under the pretext of checking for syphilis, using the opportunity to secretly administer vaccinations. If I got caught, I might be burned at the stake... but well, I figured the power of this misunderstanding-prone world would somehow bail me out.
"You may head home now, ma'am."
"Thank you, Doctor."
After sending off the eventful eight-month-old pediatric patient, I began packing up the needles. Eri spoke up as she watched me.
"But Teacher, was that really a strengthening engraving?"
"Yes."
It technically was. After all, it granted immunity to several plague-type curses. Even nobles draped themselves in holy relics to ward off plague curses. Considering that, wasn't a vaccination essentially a strengthening engraving?
"Were you a Carverdaq as well, Teacher?"
"I am not a Carverdaq, but I have studied their craft."
Carverdaq was the term for those who engraved magical crests. For the record, although they were sometimes called 'doctors,' they weren't actual medical practitioners. They were closer to tattooists who inked people's bodies. I hadn't known that, and since the word 'doctor' was associated with them in some texts, I had studied their craft diligently. By the time I realized the truth, it was already too late, so I had just finished the studies anyway.
"A true genius really does study things as a hobby..."
But that studying hadn't been a complete waste of time. Thanks to it, Eri had added yet another misunderstanding to her list about me. Well, if I looked at it as something that enhanced my character's mystique, it wasn't entirely a bad thing. As I was preparing to receive the next patient, Eri, who was organizing Ethan's medical records, clicked her pen and spoke up.
"But Teacher, I'm asking this seriously. Instead of putting on such a desperate show to entertain them, wouldn't it be better to just take off that mask?"
"..."
"Honestly, I think the only reason the kids cry the moment they see you is because of that thing."
I silently stroked the beak of my plague doctor mask. Then, I shook my head.
"I do not think taking it off would change much."
The proof of that was our youngest sibling, Freed. He always burst into tears whenever he saw my bare face. My face certainly did look far too gloomy.
"Freed did not seem to like my face very much either."
"I heard about that from Freya. She said it's because you prick Freed's thigh with a needle every time you see him."
"..."
I ignored Eri's remark and turned toward the entrance.
"Next patient, please."
After the clinic hours ended, I headed to Wangcho's restaurant for the first time in a while to conduct some research.
"Wangcho. I have arrived."
"Ah, Doctor! You're here. But what kind of research are you doing this time that requires buying up so many eggs? And only fertilized ones, at that."
"They all have their uses."
The research I was currently obsessed with was vaccine development. The catalyst was none other than the dark mage Belgian's grimoire. The grimoire he had left behind contained detailed records of ghoul-type magic and plague-type curse magic. What caught my attention was the plague curse section.
Biological immunity neutralized a magical curse. If so, wouldn't the reverse be possible as well? That was the premise of my research. The biggest reason vaccines couldn't be made in this world was the lack of any means to control viruses or bacteria. While the Jennerian vaccination existed for smallpox, there were no equivalents for other diseases. In such a situation, the plague curse Belgian had left behind was a godsend. Finally, I had a way to control viruses or bacteria exactly as I wished.
Of course, I can't just cast this directly on people. Existing curses had no concept of regulation. They were designed to kill from the start, so there was no way to adjust their potency. If I went around casting this on people under the guise of vaccination, I wouldn't be a protagonist—I'd be the Hitler of this fantasy world. Thus, I decided to refer to the vaccine production methods of the twenty-first century: the embryonated egg culture method. It was the most common and traditional method used in modern medicine to mass-produce vaccines like the flu shot.
Quite literally, it was a technique of injecting a virus into unhatched, fertilized eggs to cultivate it. With this method, I wouldn't have to do something as insane as casting a curse directly on a human. My plan was to cast the plague curse on the eggs, then later extract and refine only the weakened virus from them.
"Doctor, can you really not tell me what it is?"
"I cannot. It is classified."
Naturally, I was conducting this entire line of research in absolute secrecy. Dark magic itself wasn't strictly forbidden. After all, if you asked whether burning someone to death or letting them die of a disease was more cruel, it would be hard to choose. Likewise, as long as dark magic wasn't directly used for criminal acts, the academic study of it wasn't entirely banned by the Church or the Empire. However, considering the primal hatred and revulsion the people of this world harbored toward dark magic, it wouldn't be looked upon kindly, even in these back alleys. Furthermore, in a world that lacked even the concept of a vaccine, I couldn't exactly tell people that I planned to inject curses into human bodies. Of course, that wasn't the only reason. Safety is always the highest priority when researching viruses or bacteria. But in this world, which lacked even a basic understanding of hygiene, finding someone who could strictly adhere to safety protocols was next to impossible. Thus, for safety's sake, I had to conduct this research entirely on my own.
"Mmm... I understand."
Perhaps sensing my sincerity, Wangcho nodded, albeit reluctantly. He still didn't seem entirely convinced, so I lowered my voice to a whisper.
"I am sorry, Wangcho. This research is of such a nature that, if things go wrong, everyone involved could be placed in grave danger."
Upon hearing my words, Wangcho's face instantly turned pale.
"Eek!"
Contrary to my intentions, however, Wangcho seemed to have misunderstood in a completely different direction.
"Understood! I will absolutely, positively make sure no one snoops around your laboratory. I won't let anyone catch even a glimpse of your research!"
"There is no need to go that far..."
Sigh. The moment the misunderstanding about my lack of burn scars was cleared up, a brand-new misunderstanding took its place. I debated whether I should explain myself again, but decided to just let it go. As I had realized during the incident with Belgian, misunderstandings in this world weren't things you could easily resolve with words. Once the research was complete, the misunderstanding would naturally clear itself up. And even if it didn't, it wouldn't really matter. Finding it too bothersome to make excuses, I gave a vague nod. If anything, such a misconception might actually be far more helpful for maintaining security.
"Eri. Grab the eggs. We are going to the clinic's storehouse."
"Are you going to use all of these for your research?"
"...I will cook the unfertilized ones for you separately, so do not fret."
"Then I want an omelet!"
"Very well."
An excited Eri picked up the baskets overflowing with fertilized eggs in both hands. Her physical strength, which seemed to grow by the day, was already far beyond anything I could match. We headed toward my small private laboratory set up behind the clinic. Located in the Limbus Pit, my private lab was a renovated storehouse.
"Eri, please step outside."
"Okay~"
Once I confirmed Eri had left the lab, I locked the door securely and began preparing for the experiment in earnest.
First, Belgian's grimoire. I spun the dial of the safe, retrieving the cowpox pus and Belgian's grimoire from within. Then, I uncapped the bottle and spread Belgian's notebook open beside it.
"Sanio et Putro."
⟨ Pus and Putrefaction ⟩
I felt the mana draining from my body. While I couldn't cast magic elsewhere, I could manage basic spells within the confines of my laboratory. The fundamental reason I couldn't become a true magic caster was my complete lack of talent for reading variables in uncontrolled environments. In other words, as long as the conditions were strictly controlled, even I could cast magic.
I suppose I can't call myself a magic caster, but I could at least pass as a mage.
In fact, most research-focused mages who failed to become elite magic casters were similar to me. They could all cast magic to some extent within their own laboratories or workshops. Though even that required incredibly strict conditions—so much so that if a janitor swept the room just once, the spells would fail to activate the next day.
"Morde Cuten Eos."
⟨ Devour Their Flesh ⟩
As the incantation continued, a whitish smoke began to rise from the bottle of pus. It was a different color from Belgian's black smoke. I wasn't entirely sure why such a difference occurred when only the catalyst was slightly different. This was a riddle I would have to solve over time.
"Efflora, Morbiflos."
⟨ Bloom, Flower of Plague ⟩
Finally, the incantation concluded. Following the formulaic values I had set, the white mist enveloped the tray of eggs on the lab bench. I observed the eggs closely and selected ten of them.
"Twenty duds..."
Because I was adapting a curse originally meant for humans to work on eggs, the failure rate was incredibly high. I submerged the ten selected eggs in holy water. No matter how much I weakened the potency through the formula, it was still a curse fundamentally designed to kill. For the eggs to survive such a curse, the protective aid of holy water was absolutely essential.
To think I'm making a vaccine out of a biochemical weapon. Usually, the order would be the other way around. With a self-deprecating smile, I placed the remaining ten eggs into an incubator box. I wrote today's date on the box and slid it into a corner of the lab. Then, I pulled out the box that had been sitting there, marked with a date from four days ago. These were the ones I had injected with the curse and placed in the incubator four days prior, using diluted holy water to suppress its potency.
"Now, let's see."
There were six eggs inside the box. Feeling a mix of anticipation and tension, I held one of the eggs up to the lamp. If it was a success, candling the egg would reveal a tiny chick embryo squirming inside.
First, the first one...
The light passing through the egg revealed a murky, dark brown interior, looking like sewage water. Actually, it had looked suspicious even before I candled it. The shell was covered in fine cracks, as if it had rotted from the inside out. With a bitter smile, I tossed the first egg into the waste bin.
"Next..."
The second egg. The shell looked perfectly fine on the outside. But when I candled it, there was no embryo to be found—only pus. A failure.
"Next."
The third... the fourth... and finally, the sixth.
"Another failure, then..."
I let out a hollow sigh and pinched the bridge of my nose. Not a single one of the six fertilized eggs had survived. They were either completely blackened and rotten, bursting with foul-smelling pus, or shriveled dry.
Either the curse's potency was too strong, or the holy water's suppression was too weak. But I couldn't just use more holy water, either. If I did, the curse itself would be completely neutralized.
There are too many variables to adjust. First, I needed to modify the formula so it interacted better with avian biology, find a way to lower the potency even further, and strike a perfect balance with the holy water.
Whew...
It had been a long time since I felt this lost, not since my work on quinine. Back then, I had spent ages boiling and processing the sap, only to discover much later that in this world, it was the bark that contained the active ingredient.
Well, that's just how research goes. This was especially true for magical research. Unlike science, magic offered absolutely no feedback when it failed. When a spell failed, it simply consumed your mana and left you without a single clue as to why. This was something detailed extensively in the grimoire that the mage named Fitch had given me.
Even that old gentleman failed thousands of times in his research on holy water. The grimoire he had handed over detailed his arduous journey to discover magic that used holy water as a medium. His research journal, which seemed to still be ongoing, ended with its 5,214th entry.
Compared to that, this is only my fifteenth failure. After all, isn't academia built on a mountain of failures? So even though I had failed today, I wasn't particularly anxious. I was still only twelve years old, and I had plenty of life ahead of me.
And above all, I have the plot armor of a misunderstood protagonist.
Chuckling to myself, I tidied up the boxes. Then, in my research journal, I recorded today's experimental details along with a list of future improvements.