These gentlemen…
The 19th-century doctors, I mean…
By my standards, they seem utterly clueless, but it's not like they lack intelligence.
It's just a matter of accumulated knowledge.
I've studied nearly 200 years' worth of advancements beyond what they know.
Not to mention, the amount of knowledge amassed in the 20th century alone surpasses everything humanity had learned before.
And the 21st century? Don't even get me started…
"Hmm… This does seem like it could make a difference."
"Indeed. If we could hear faint breaths or heartbeats more clearly… This wouldn't just be a one-time tool."
The two of them understood immediately.
If we could create a device shaped like an ear to amplify sound, it would be a massive leap forward for medicine.
Blundell, in particular, was practically vibrating with excitement.
Not surprising—he was the one plagued by fears of premature burial and had been wrestling with countless medical dilemmas.
"How did you come up with this?"
"Divine providence."
"And why does that providence only shine on you?"
"Maybe because my parents abandoned their country to serve the Lord?"
"Even so… I heard your parents were about to become priests and nuns before you were born."
"Doesn't that make it even more admirable?"
"Well… I suppose so. From what I've heard, Joseon sounds like a highly advanced nation."
That…
Well, things will get really messy later, but…
For now…
Actually, even now, it's not exactly stable…
'Isn't this the era of the Andong Kim clan's political dominance?'
Just when you thought factional strife had ruined the country, things somehow managed to get worse.
Hong Gyeong-rae's rebellion in 1811…
Later, peasant uprisings…
Wow.
What a disaster.
"Exactly. That's why the Lord has blessed me."
"I see. I'd love to visit someday, but it's just so far away. It's impressive you made the journey at all."
Well, whatever.
It's not like I could just go back, right?
How far is Joseon from here anyway?
Even by steam locomotive, it'd take ages.
And besides…
Would they even let me in?
It's not like Heungseon Daewongun has taken power yet, but Joseon was hardly an open country back then.
"If the opportunity arises, let's go together."
"Yes, yes."
I just let the words spill out casually.
Of course, we couldn't just keep talking about that.
We had to actually make this thing.
Wait…
How long is this going to take?
Their technical skills are oddly lacking.
And honestly, I'm not entirely sure how to build it with the current technology either.
"Alright, let's use this principle to design it. Hand me some paper."
"Here you go."
Joseph passed me a sheet.
After my little speech, his reverence for me seemed to have deepened even further.
Not surprising—he was already the type to hang on my every word.
Then again, what I'd just said was a bit ahead of its time.
But since they wouldn't realize that, I probably came across as a genius.
"First, we'll make the chest-contact part concave like this. Then, if we extend the tube to amplify the sound further, it should work."
"Right. That would definitely amplify it. But how do we listen to it?"
Liston mimed pressing his ear to the end of the tube.
The sketch made it look a bit odd, but the idea got across.
"Exactly. Like that."
"I see."
"As expected of the professor."
"Hah."
Still, the image was a little ridiculous.
Seriously…
After all that explanation, he's still listening with just one ear.
Shouldn't we block the other ear for better focus?
But would that even work?
And…
"I read a recent paper saying even unilateral hearing loss affects learning ability."
My genius friend from college—the one who aced every subject and could've gone into any field—chose otolaryngology because he had unilateral hearing loss.
According to him, humans don't have two ears for no reason.
Then again, if one was enough, why would modern stethoscopes have two earpieces?
"Wait. Why do humans have two ears?"
So I launched into another sermon about divine design.
"Why would the Lord give us two? So we can hear better, right?"
I waved my arms around like a revivalist preacher.
Liston and Blundell nodded along eagerly.
"Ah, that makes sense."
"The Lord wouldn't do anything without reason."
"Exactly. So if we connect it like this… and listen with both ears, wouldn't that be ideal?"
"Oho."
"That does sound plausible."
The response was positive.
Of course it was—the logic was solid.
"Then let's commission it."
"Do you know a metalworker?"
"Huh? Of course I do."
"Ah…"
At my words, Liston flashed his infamous "Liston knife."
Right…
That grotesque blade…
Too big to be a scalpel…
Anyway.
Not just anyone could make something like that.
The fact that he could hack off limbs without the edge chipping spoke volumes about the craftsman's skill.
"He's excellent. I order replacements monthly."
"Monthly?"
"Lately, with all the amputations… The blade snaps after about 120 cuts."
"Ah… I see…"
Assuming a 30-day month (with Sundays off), that meant 3-4 amputations a day.
Though he probably did them in batches…
"Come along. You should be there to explain."
"I'll join too."
"Why you?"
"Hey! I'm the one who popularized coffin bells in London. When it comes to determining death, I'm the best in the city."
"I'm not sure how much that helps, but…"
Hadn't countless gravediggers fainted because of that?
Liston grumbled but didn't refuse Blundell.
It wasn't entirely wrong, and Blundell was still a practicing doctor…
'He'll probably split the cost…'
I could see right through him, but Blundell had an odd naivety about these things, so he tagged along cheerfully.
Naturally, the students followed too.
"Ah, right. The director mentioned something—you'll soon be up for medical licensing review. It's just a formality, so don't worry."
As we boarded the carriage, Liston dropped the news.
It finally hit me.
I wasn't officially a doctor yet.
Sure, people called me "Dr. Pyeong," but it wasn't legally recognized.
'Well… 80% of physicians outside London are unlicensed quacks anyway.'
Not that a license guaranteed competence.
Back then, medical licensing was a loose affair.
I hadn't even gone through formal training, but a recommendation was enough to get me reviewed.
"Thank you."
This was good news.
Having a license would make practicing in London much easier.
"No need for thanks. If you're not qualified, who is?"
"Still… I've studied for less than a year."
"Hah! None of these kids would disagree. Right?"
"Huh? Y-yes, sir!"
Liston's question made the students—my friends and seniors—snap to attention.
They'd probably react the same even if he'd asked something absurd.
Then again, the opposite was also true.
At this point, not acknowledging my skills would be stranger.
CREAK.
Between chatter and banter, we soon arrived at the blacksmith's.
True to Liston's trust, the blacksmith had sharp eyes.
Shirtless and hammering away, he radiated the aura of a master craftsman.
No—calling him the "last" of his kind would be premature.
This was still an era of handcrafted work, even as steamships began to rise.
"Oh, already worn out this month's batch?"
"Ah, no. We're here for something different today."
"Different…? What headache are you giving me now? Come in. It's hot, and seating's scarce."
Despite his intimidating appearance, the middle-aged man had a boisterous laugh.
Maybe it was because of Liston, but we all relaxed slightly as we stepped inside.
The heat hit us like a wall.
'Wow…'
I'd never experienced anything like this, even in the 21st century.
As I stared around in fascination, Liston yanked me forward.
"What are you doing?"
"Ah, it's my first time seeing this."
"Save the sightseeing for later. Over here."
"Right."
When a man his size pulls, you follow.
No choice.
As I was dragged along, the blacksmith gave me a scrutinizing look.
Who's this yellow brat?
I could practically hear his thoughts.
No matter.
A true craftsman would understand my design.
"Hmm… Impressive. Dr. Pyeong, was it? I'd heard the name, but I didn't expect someone so young."
"I've been learning a lot lately."
"Too modest. London's finest surgeon, they say. Anyway, this'll be fun to make. Drilling a tube this thin won't be easy…"
"Can you do it?"
"Of course. But you need it by next week?"
"Yes."
"Damn."
The blacksmith cracked his neck, then stood with a grunt.
"I'll start with this part first."
"Thank you."
"No need. Consider it repayment for saving my life."
Now I noticed—one of his legs was missing below the knee.
Liston must have amputated it.
The man really got around.
"Good."
"Thanks to you."
"But why am I paying…?"
As we finalized the order, noise erupted outside.
"What's going on?"
"Police…?"
Police in London's alleys weren't unusual—crime was rampant.
But them heading strai
ght for us was another matter.
"Dr. Liston. Dr. Pyeong."
"What's this about?"
"There's been an incident… We'll need you to come in for questioning."
"Questioning…?"
"Yes. We'll explain on the way. It's a messy affair. You haven't done anything shady, have you?"
"Nothing beyond beating the occasional scoundrel."
"Then… Then there shouldn't be an issue."