I thought only the police would follow us in, but behind them were quite a few more people, including journalists, Sir Jamie, and even the hospital director.
Thanks to that, the space that served as both a reception room and a patient waiting area quickly became crowded.
That didn't mean it got noisy, though.
Everyone was quiet.
They were just listening intently to what the doctor had just said.
I was… a bit flustered.
'Isn't it common sense to open the stomach if the stomach hurts and open the head if the head hurts?'
This isn't just a 19th-century thing.
It was the same in the 21st century.
Wait, or was it not common in the 19th century?
Wondering if I was being too 21st-century in my thinking, I recalled what 19th-century hospitals typically did.
It wasn't hard.
I'd been working hard not to be seen as a madman until now.
Thanks to that, I could immediately recall surgeries like… well, let's just say they were far from refined or civilized, such as stone removal surgery or testicle cracking…
'Okay. I didn't do anything wrong. That guy is just a coward.'
Good.
Then I can be more confident.
"Yes, we need to open your head."
"Well…"
So I said it confidently.
Politely pointing at the doctor's head.
His attendants and the police flinched in surprise, but everyone else remained still.
Sir Jamie shook his head for some reason…
Anyway, the room was still quiet.
The one who broke the silence was the doctor again.
"By any chance, Pyeong."
"Yes."
"Do you have… connections with Qing?"
"Huh?"
Wondering what he meant, I looked at him.
Then Liston patted my shoulder and spoke up.
"No. Pyeong is definitely a Joseon person. And I understand that after the Byeongja Horan, Joseon people hate Qing."
Surprisingly, he was quite accurate.
Where did he even… hear about the Byeongja Horan?
When I looked at Liston, he winked and continued.
"Pyeong genuinely devised opening the head as a way to treat you. Actually… your headaches must have gotten worse, right?"
"They have. But isn't it because we haven't done bloodletting?"
"Bloodletting…"
Liston paused for a moment.
If it were me, I would've snapped there.
That damn humoral theory is what led to bloodletting as a treatment.
What's humoral theory?
It's a hypothesis devised by someone 2,000 years ago. A hypothesis.
Of course, I acknowledge that Hippocrates proposed several groundbreaking ideas for his time.
Some of them even seem quite reasonable to modern people?
But… humoral theory isn't one of them.
Opinions originating from knowledge that hadn't yet accumulated are bound to be crude.
"Actually."
He took quite a while choosing his words.
Considering Liston's intelligence is quite high, it was surprising.
His martial prowess overshadows it, but wouldn't you classify that guy as a genius?
Anyway, to criticize bloodletting from that humoral theory…
First, blood is produced by hematopoietic organs, i.e., bone marrow.
It's not a one-time thing; it's produced constantly.
Why?
Because the blood cells that make up blood have a lifespan.
And it's not long.
At best, a few months; some are as short as a few days.
"What Pyeong proposed is also bloodletting."
Those whose lifespan ends are removed in the spleen.
That's why, even though new blood is constantly produced, our blood volume remains in equilibrium.
Of course, if you stay or live in high altitudes for a long time, the number of red blood cells increases to adapt to the environment…
Huh?
What did he just say?
"What?"
"Huh?"
I couldn't help but express doubt.
The one consolation was that it wasn't just me; everyone else did too.
Surprisingly, our group—Blundell, Joseph, Alfred, and Colin—just stood there blankly.
These guys seemed to understand something.
"There are many types of dead blood. Of course, it's in the back, arms, and ankles too. But there must be living blood inside as well. Isn't that inevitable?"
"Well… I don't understand what you mean, but since it's you saying it, I'll take your word for it."
I don't understand either.
What is this guy even talking about?
Regardless of my confusion, Liston continued.
The room wasn't that big to begin with, and Liston was enormous, so everyone was already overwhelmed.
They were all listening intently.
In that situation, Liston let out a soft laugh.
"The method to extract only the dead blood… our Pyeong devised it. I was amazed too. Now, headaches are caused by too much blood, so to solve that, wouldn't it be good to remove the blood?"
"That's right."
"The strange thing is that even after removing blood, it hurts again quickly. That means the existing methods have limitations."
"Hmm… indeed… lately, even after frequent bloodletting, it still hurts. It hurts now too."
This is nonsense.
It's clearly nonsense…
'But it might be useful if I just go along with it.'
Anyway…
I gave up on how future generations would judge me long ago.
It was doomed from the moment they started talking about miasma and doing nonsense.
In that context, what does it matter if we do bloodletting by opening the head?
They'll just say it was another one of Pyeong's ideas, right?
Besides, by then, I'll have been dead for a long time.
"What if we could remove only the dead blood?"
"Hmm…"
"Kids, bring it in."
"Huh?"
"Bring the corpse from earlier."
"Ah, aah. Yes!"
At Liston's words, the kids rushed out.
Then they came in holding the corpse's arms and legs.
Couldn't they have put it on a stretcher or something…?
Carrying it like that makes it look like a crime scene.
And the corpse isn't even intact.
The head is…
"Here, look at this."
Seems I was the only one thinking that.
The police just went "Hmm" with interested expressions as they examined the corpse.
The director?
The director was just marveling at the round hole in the head, saying, "This must be the work of Sword Saint Liston."
Everyone's insane, but…
Seems like it'll be fine.
"Dead blood pooled here and pressed on the brain. We removed it… and this patient probably died because of it."
"Wow! So you're saying I could die too?"
"Yes."
"Wow, that… that can't be."
Because in this absurd situation, the patient was being persuaded effortlessly.
The journalists were also nodding with deeply impressed expressions.
Not only that, they were writing something down, but of course, there was censorship.
Sir Jamie and his crew, along with the director, were watching them write the article.
It clearly wasn't normal…
But then again, in the 19th century, almost nothing would seem normal to a 21st-century person, so I just let it be.
"So we need to open it. With me and Pyeong together, nothing will go wrong."
"Hmm… indeed, you two are the best doctors in London."
"The best in the world. Since we're the best in Britain, wouldn't that be true?"
"I suppose so. Well… alright. Just a moment… is that okay?"
"Yes, of course."
The doctor was already convinced.
So any conversation from now on would just be meaningless comfort or prayers.
"Sir Jamie."
"Yes, I didn't expect we'd be opening heads, but if it's their judgment, it's probably right."
"I suppose so."
"Say a prayer for me."
"Yes, please. This operation… sigh… it's such a big deal that I'm feeling the pressure."
"Leave the worries to above for now. What you need to do now is just one thing. Keep your mind at ease."
"Yes, I'll do that."
As I expected, they were exchanging comforts and prayers.
Actually…
To be honest, I'm the one who needs comfort and prayers.
'What if we open it and there's nothing there?'
The possibility that there's actually nothing…
'I don't know that either.'
Medicine is supposed to be a field based on statistics, right?
But would a situation like this even be covered in statistics?
Wait, does the word "statistics" even exist in this era?
It probably does, but they might not be using it actively…
'Well… I'll cross that bridge when I get there.'
I looked at Liston.
Was Liston thinking the same thing?
He was sending me a somewhat ominous smile.
So we exchanged villainous smiles and waited calmly.
Meanwhile, our disciples went to the operating room to check the instruments and operating table.
"Well, then, I leave it to you."
"Yes, this way."
"Really, no alcohol or anything?"
"You don't need it. You can drink that."
"Alright… but is there anything I should know beforehand?"
"Ah."
Right.
I didn't get consent.
Of course, it's not like such a thing exists.
Who was it that introduced the essential yet annoying procedure of consent forms?
"We need to shave your head. You saw the patient, right?"
"Ah… that's fine. I can just wear a hat. The people attending the meeting… they already know my situation."
"And… once you lie down, I'll explain."
"Ah, alright. Let's do that."
I started with the things that couldn't be hidden.
Once you shave your head, you can't just stick the hair back on, right?
Fortunately, for some reason, hats are hugely fashionable these days.
Plus, quite a few people wear wigs at social gatherings, so the shaving issue was surprisingly handled coolly.
But can something like this be handled coolly?
Huh?
There's no blood?
Things like that.
"Alfred."
"Yes."
Anyway, Alfred was diligently using honorifics in front of others, i.e., the patient, as agreed.
What a good senior. Really.
He gives me money, gets me urine lines, uses honorifics…
"Turn it on."
"Huh? I haven't explained yet."
"We'll explain while it's on."
"No, but then—"
"Can't you hear Pyeong?"
"Yes, yes."
So Gas Master Alfred started turning the gas valve.
The doctor finally sensed something was wrong, but it was too late.
"Hmm."
Clearly, his consciousness was fading.
I leaned close to his ear and continued explaining in the most polite and gentle tone possible.
"A craniotomy carries a 30% risk of death or disability, and in this case, since preoperative tests such as a CT were not performed, there might be nothing inside when we open it, and it might not help the symptoms at all."
I spoke quickly because I had to convey all the information compactly before he lost consciousness.
When I pulled back from his ear, his eyes were already closed.
Tears were streaming from between his closed eyes for some reason…
'I doubt he understood.'
He probably doesn't even know what a craniotomy is.
Spacing isn't just important in Korean, you know.
In English, if you run words together, they become completely incomprehensible.
There are plenty of people who'd think it's code if you just remove the accents.
'Anyway, I did it.'
But can you say I didn't explain?
No.
Feeling righteous, I looked at Liston.
Liston was looking at me with a dissatisfied expression for some reason, then picked up scissors and started shaving the head.