Even in This World, It's Still Papers...
"...And that's why hygiene is the most important thing for a doctor."
"Ho ho, fascinating. It's completely opposite to conventional medical knowledge."
"It's so amazing, Master! I'm really glad we came to the Beauty Tower clinic!"
I'd explained everything from proper handwashing to why maintaining cleanliness matters, even demonstrating the surgical scrub. But the reactions from the Tower of Truth mages left me baffled.
"Pardon me, but what do you mean by 'completely opposite to conventional medical knowledge'?"
"Ah, Lord Minor Tower Master is from the East Continent, so you might not know. It's the same in our West Continent and North Continent too. The Initiium Empire's magic towers teach a basic medical text to 1st Circle mages. It's a precious legacy passed down from senior mages."
I figured it was full of nonsense, but these people knew their shortcomings and had come to learn proper medicine from me. No need to frown at them.
"It's called Principles of Medicine. According to it, you must never wash your hands before treating a patient—especially before surgery."
"What? What kind of—"
The word 'bullshit' nearly escaped my throat, but I barely held it back with extreme patience.
"Haha, after hearing Lord Minor Director's explanation on hygiene, I realized how absurd the contents of Principles of Medicine are. But I'm not the only one—other doctors wouldn't even dream of questioning it."
"Why does Principles of Medicine say not to wash before surgery?"
"It's for the patient's sake."
At this ridiculous nonsense, I clamped my mouth shut and decided to just listen to what this so-called medical magic tome had to say.
"A prime example is bathing. After a hot bath, the body gets damp and relaxes. That opens the pores, making it easy for plagues to invade. That's what it says."
"......"
Utter bullshit, but to someone without any medical knowledge, it sounded plausible enough.
"So mages, no matter how sweltering the summer, wipe sweat with a towel on big surgery days—never clean with water."
"It's truly shocking, Master. I thought blocking pores was the only way to prevent infection! The opposite?!"
"Indeed. We thought bodily secretions like sweat formed a protective barrier. What a startling approach."
"......"
I'm the one startled. Wiping sweat with just a towel? Sweat is 99% water, but the fats and proteins in it get broken down by bacteria, causing the smell. Not washing doesn't form a barrier—it just repels people with sour bacterial stink.
So all these doctors here haven't bathed...?
I'd wondered why everyone reeked even in wartime, but now it clicked.
If even doctors think that way, knights heading into battle surely don't bathe either.
"Lord Minor Baron. Now that you've grasped hygiene, shall we learn about anesthesia?"
It wasn't about grasping concepts—I wanted to tell them to go bathe first. But with patients possibly flooding in anytime, no time to waste. I had to cram my knowledge into them while I could.
"Director! Patient!"
"Walter, this way!"
Murphy's Law strikes often in the ER.
We half-carried the limping man into the exam room and laid him on an empty bed.
"Sir, leg injury? What are the symptoms?"
"Urgh... Just grazed by an ogre's blade, but the pain's getting worse."
Removing his armor and boots revealed his right leg swollen bright red.
"Hmm... Looks like we'll need to amputate."
"I agree—no way around swift amputation."
The Tower of Truth mages muttered like they were chanting, and the patient on the bed started convulsing.
"N-No! They said no amputation needed here! I can't accept amputation! No amputa—"
"Calm down, sir. These two aren't from our clinic. I'll decide on amputation. Just relax for now."
I shot a glance at Mac and Donald observing from the side; they coughed awkwardly and shut up.
The wound had clearly received healing magic or stamina potion—it was scabbed over. But the leg glowed shrimp-red, with obvious swelling.
"Josephine."
"Yes, Director."
"Gloves for me and the mages."
"Right away."
Josephine swiftly gloved me up. Seeing it, the mages followed suit.
"Ho? Slime material—"
"I'll explain that later. Patient first. Lord Tower Master, you said amputation's the only way? Do you know the condition?"
Mac nodded at my question.
"Infection from the wound? We mages call it 'hot leg.'"
"Correct. Touch the site—you'll feel the heat."
"Gah! Even touching hurts!"
Every time Mac and Donald prodded, he winced sharply.
"All the patients I saw this morning with these symptoms had cellulitis."
"Cellulitis?"
"Inflammation from bacteria invading the dermis and subcutaneous tissue. Common in the elderly, but here it's from wound entry."
I prepped antibiotics while explaining.
"Especially with poor foot hygiene like this patient's—athlete's foot makes it frequent."
"Athlete's foot...?"
"Think of it as foot fungus."
Cellulitis mostly hits the elderly. But in Korea, young people get it too—mandatory military service means boots and poor ventilation. Cracks form like dry earth, letting bacteria in easily.
And infections slip through those cracks.
Women risk it from unhygienic pedicures.
I covered bacteria basics, athlete's foot, and answered Donald's questions.
"Most cases are staph or strep, so cephalosporins or penicillins like I mentioned. Mild cases? Oral antibiotics steadily. But severe spread like this needs IV for faster effect."
I explained antibiotics while injecting penicillin.
"Won't heal instantly even with them. Oral needs 1-2 weeks monitoring. But in urgent wartime, pair with healing magic."
Mac and Donald pulled out crystal orbs mid-explanation, muttering recordings or jotting notes.
Good—learn as much as you can. Save some lives.
"Josephine, healing magic on the patient."
"Yes, Director. Uh... my mana is still 126. Potion first?"
"No—conserve till next patient. Have Bam do the magic."
"Got it."
Post-antibiotics and healing, the leg returned to normal color.
"Wartime means magic like this, but mild cases get orals. Fever or pain? Analgesics and anti-inflammatories—"
"W-Wait."
"...?"
"Mana levels? Can you measure mana at the Beauty Tower?"
Mac's trembling finger pointed at the witches casting healing via mana meter-linked crystal orbs.
"Oh, that's just a mana meter..."
Important, sure—but they needed core knowledge first. I kept the explanation brief.
"Gaaah! 'Just'?! How is this 'just'?! This is thesis-level for the Celestial Journal!"
"Celestial Journal?"
Celestial? Like drilling holes?
"Y-You don't know the Celestial Journal? The continent's top authority? Publication is the highest honor for a mage—and it'll rewrite Principles of Medicine! No, Principles of Magic!"
"Hm... Do they pay for it?"
"Haha, it's not about money! In Principles of Magic means every mage on the continent sees it! It could overturn the entire magical framework!"
Celestial Journal... Like NEJM?
Mac, usually calm, was this excited—probably this world's equivalent to my old world's top medical journal, New England Journal of Medicine.
"Not bad. Can I call on you later, Lord Mac Tower Master?"
"Of course! An honor! Haha, helping a mage publish in the Celestial Journal is—"
"I'm not a mage. I'm a doctor."
"Ahaha, same roots, right?"
No... Totally different.
I hoped a mana meter paper in the Celestial Journal revised Principles of Medicine, not magic. Their medical texts were probably "999 Ways to Kill Painfully."
But anywhere it published was fine. Mages did the healing here.
Even in isekai, papers... This could be fun.
I'd thought uprooting this world's "medicine"—really murder tech—like flipping frozen soil with a shovel. But now, a path seemed visible.
"Anyway, impressive, Lord Minor Tower Master. But we should head out soon..."
True—they'd been here an hour absorbing my lecture.
"Yes, thank you for your time. Next opportuni—"
"No, not leaving yet. Haha, soon, but before we go... I want to experience it firsthand?"
"Experience?"
Was this healthy guy volunteering for antibiotics? Then Mac beamed at me.
"That, uh, anesthesia. I want to try it myself."