As If I Had Mercury Poisoning Myself
“Haha… I knew he was incredibly rude at the last conference, but as Elvin said, he really has no sense of propriety.”
I shrugged at Elvin, who was trembling as he tried to suppress his anger, his lips twitching.
“Yeah, sorry about that. Even if his medical skills are terrible, they should be terribly within reason. But for a magic tower master to be this incompetent… well…”
“Tower Master of the Beauty Tower! Mind your manners!”
“Aigoo, Elvin. Sorry. Are you mad because I scolded one of your own? Still, I can’t exactly be polite, can I?”
“What did you just…?”
“Heh.”
Elvin furrowed his brow at my blunt honesty, while Owen clicked his tongue softly.
“Right? How can you be polite when mages in disguise are trying to kill people?”
If I wanted, I could spend hours ranting with case studies on just how dangerous mercury was. But since this world didn’t grasp syphilis’s transmissibility or mortality rate, I decided to keep it brief.
“First, let’s separate mercury fact from fiction. As the Tower Master of the Tower of Inquiry said, yes, applying mercury does whiten the skin.”
“Ooh, see?”
“Told you it has benefits.”
The moment I started, people nodded eagerly. But the higher the hope, the greater the despair.
“But that whitening isn’t a real effect—it’s the outer skin layer, called the epidermis, necrotizing and peeling away to reveal the relatively whiter layer beneath. In simple terms, for your level: the skin is rotting.”
“The s-skin is rotting?”
“Revealing the layer underneath?”
The syphilis patients looked as if their own skin was rotting away. I pressed on regardless.
“Eating mercury to make skin taut? That’s just temporary wrinkle-smoothing from blocked blood flow. Mercury is a highly toxic heavy metal that damages not just skin, but the brain, blood vessels, and organs. Now, you’re all wondering: if it’s so dangerous, how does it work on dungeon disease?”
I scanned the room with a sly smile. The patients looked curious; Owen and Elvin, anxious.
“Why did the people in the Tower Master of Inquiry’s video seem to recover from syphilis—also called dungeon disease—after applying mercury to their sores? Coincidentally, mercury can actually kill the syphilis bacteria.”
“What… so it does work in the end?”
“Fight poison with poison, right?”
The patients’ faces twisted in confusion at mercury’s double-edged nature, while micro-expressions betrayed Owen and Elvin’s relief.
It’s a heavy metal, so of course it kills bacteria.
I hated to admit it, but mercury did kill syphilis spirochetes.
“Ah, if anyone’s thinking, ‘Mercury kills the bacteria, so treatment with it should be fine,’ discard that thought right now.”
I skipped the baffled crowd and locked eyes with Owen, the quack from elsewhere.
“Why avoid mercury treatment? And Tower Master Owen, who’s treated syphilis with it, knows this better than anyone.”
“...What are you implying? That I know it well?”
The bastard was tense. His feigned calm, kindly smile couldn’t hide the dark anxiety captured in his micro-expressions.
“Because mercury doesn’t just kill syphilis bacteria—it kills the person too. If you’ve truly treated many, you’d know more die from it than recover.”
“Th-that’s!”
“Even if syphilis is cured, the accumulated mercury doesn’t flush out easily. It causes oral inflammation, twitching eyelids or lips.”
Clatter—Jaden, the West Continent’s fastest cutter facing off with Walter, dropped his weapon—no, medical tool. His trembling fingertips confirmed he’d undergone mercury treatment too.
Helping another one out.
I turned fully to Jaden and continued.
“That’s not all. Memory loss, excessive irritability, emotional instability—personality changes.”
“Uh… uh…?”
Jaden slumped, symptoms matching perfectly. Even the 1st and 2nd Circle mages peddling mercury bottles to patients shook in shock.
These lunatics don’t even know how dangerous mercury is.
Seeing them slather it like whitening cream on faces and syphilis sores made my blood boil. Historically, mishandling mercury brought disaster. Its dangers spread in modern times, but 20th-century incidents persisted from ignorance.
“Treating with mercury? Yes, it might cure. But it’s no treatment—it’s a devil’s gamble: who dies first, you or the syphilis? If you’re weaker, you go first. If the bacteria die before your body, you survive.”
“In the world…”
“Pure luck!”
Like radiation therapy in principle. But mercury was hellish Russian roulette with far higher death and disability odds.
Yet Earth’s history loved mercury for ages. Medieval Europe used it as facial cosmetic, like Owen’s Tower of Inquiry quackery; modern hat- and mirror-making glorified it.
Not just Europe and America.
China’s first emperor, Qin Shi Huang, died faster gobbling mercury immortality pills. Arab alchemists obsessed over its metal-melting mystery.
“Hah, they said you had a cunning tongue, but I didn’t expect you to undermine my treatment like this.”
But Owen was worse than expected. After my layman’s explanation, he showed no remorse.
“I understand. Those minor side effects? That’s why I made this. Elvin, show the Beauty Tower Master.”
“Ah! Haha, got it.”
Elvin grinned like he’d seized victory.
“Bring it here!”
““Yes!””
He pointed to a corner; several 1st Circle mages dragged in a human-sized, cloth-covered object.
“Still experimental, but this is cutting-edge mercury therapy.”
As it reached me, Owen smirked and nodded. The mages unveiled it.
“...What’s this? A coffin?”
It resembled an Egyptian sarcophagus stood upright, with a face hole.
“Haha, a coffin? Tower Master from the East Continent—you’ve got imagination.”
Owen chuckled and explained.
“It’s a mercury treatment coffin. You go inside, face out. Boil mercury at the bottom, steam sauna it. No ingesting or applying—convenient, fewer side effects…”
Hearing that, my vision blurred with rage. No need for more.
“You idiot! You call yourself a doctor? Think keeping your face out makes it safe?”
Anger shredded my filter. As if I had mercury poisoning myself.
“N-no, that’s too harsh—”
“Shut up! Ever used it?”
“No…”
“Have you used that death trap?!”
“I-I have… but calling it a death trap—”
“Done for. Steam absorbs faster. Lungs wrecked too. Get a real coffin ready.”
Owen staggered and collapsed at my words, the torture device’s creator paling.
“N-no, no way…”
Dazed like he’d lost his mind, he crawled to me, clutching my hem.
“H-help me! Please… treating nobles.”
Damn. The fool had botched it big-time. No qualms dosing common adventurers, but nobles flipped the switch.
“Shit…”
He’d charged them extra for that cursed coffin too.
“Bring every patient who bought mercury here now. Time’s critical!”
First, save lives—from syphilis and mercury alike.