First, I need to lose some weight.
That was my first thought.
I already knew that the potbellies of middle-aged men weren't exactly pleasant to look at.
By the 21st century, at least, common sense and knowledge about health had become widespread, so the idea of middle-aged men taking care of themselves wasn't unfamiliar anymore…
But here, if you expected common sense or logic, you'd end up with more than just a bruised ego.
'Just looking at it, I don't see anything.'
After barely organizing my thoughts, I began carefully examining the man's belly.
Like before, it seemed the household's situation had improved a bit—probably because those two freeloaders had recently left.
Lying on the now-plusher bed, I bent the man's knees and observed, but I couldn't immediately spot any signs of a hernia.
"Isn't there… nothing there? Do we need to press on it?"
Since human eyesight is limited, Joseph chimed in.
He probably wanted to assert his own usefulness.
After all, for word of Upturn to spread, it'd take someone at least as capable as me, right?
Even if they didn't say it, the man and the woman must've felt a little disappointed.
So, instead of snapping at Joseph like usual, I decided to humor him this time.
I should repay their kindness.
That way, my mom and dad can keep living here.
"Yeah, I don't see anything either. But since there's no pain, pressing on it might be…"
"Then what do we do? Could it just not be a problem in this area?"
Of course, playing along wasn't easy.
You need something to work with.
If all he does is spout nonsense, what am I supposed to do…
'No. I didn't earn the title Bullshit Master for nothing.'
But I had to try my best.
So I nodded at the vague spot Joseph had pointed at earlier.
"Yeah, I don't think there's an issue here."
It didn't look like a hernia would develop there.
Well, unless he'd been injured there before—but I didn't remember anything like that.
Even after coming here, he hadn't suffered any major injuries.
Considering his age, the most likely problem area would be the groin.
That's where things loosen up, allowing intestines to slip out.
If he'd been a bit leaner, I might've spotted it already, but unfortunately, a thick layer of fat was covering everything.
"Hmm."
"You said it hurts when you strain, right? Like something's coming out?"
"Huh? Uh, yeah."
"Then try straining a bit."
"Where… where should I?"
His belly.
We're looking at his belly—where else?
Times like these really drove home the fact that I was in the 19th century.
But my patience had grown enough that I didn't even sigh before answering.
"Your stomach."
"Oh. Right. Ugh. Ngh."
The moment the man strained, something bulged out near his groin—the inguinal area.
His intestines.
Small intestines.
"Whoa! This!"
Of course, to 19th-century people who wouldn't know any better, it must've looked completely different.
"L-Lord! A demon!"
"No, was this the problem?! You! It's because you've been selling liquor!"
"Oh dear."
Dad cried out to the heavens.
The woman blamed the liquor they'd been selling for generations and subtly smacked the man's head.
My mom?
She collapsed on the spot.
Well… if you really looked at it, it did seem like something alive was writhing inside him.
'But intestines do move on their own…?'
When you strain hard, they don't just snap back immediately, so you could even observe some peristaltic movement.
It's wiggling…
"Joseph, what do you think— …Where'd he go?"
The other three were just ordinary people, after all.
Uneducated 19th-century folk.
So their reaction wasn't completely unreasonable.
But Joseph, even if he was also from the 19th century, had spent months by my side learning quite a bit, right?
Even if I'd tailored my teaching to their level, I'd still nurtured some semblance of scientific thinking in him.
"Lord!"
…No, apparently not.
Joseph himself was rebelling against that notion.
"Joseph? Why do you have a cross— …Wait, since when did we even have a cross that big at home?"
"I must strike it down!"
"If you hit him with that, Dad'll die!"
"No! The demon will die!"
"You—"
What do I do?
I'm not exactly small, but I'm nowhere near Joseph's size.
And this bastard's eyes are practically rolling back.
'Ah.'
Here, my 19th-century patience kicked in.
I mean, even in the 21st century, there's something called VIP syndrome, right?
Even the most esteemed professors make bizarre mistakes when it comes to their own families.
Maybe it's the same for him?
He's just lost his mind because his dad's in pain.
Please let that be it.
"No!"
"You bastard! You're trying to kill Dad!"
"What's your name?!"
"You little— You don't even know your own father's name?!"
"S-So it is a demon?!"
This crazy bastard.
He's shouting, "What's your name?" like some kind of exorcist.
Where'd he even learn that?
'If anyone here is possessed by Satan…'
It's probably Joseph.
So I quietly moved behind him and choked him.
Not a fake choke, either.
"H-Huh?!"
"Answer properly, or you die."
"T-Taepyeong!"
"You fucking bastard, just answer the damn question."
"Huh? Uh, yeah."
While choking him, I unleashed the Fuck Technique™.
Dr. Listen could change the mood of a room just by muttering "fuck" under his breath, but I wasn't at that level yet.
Still, overwhelming Joseph was child's play, so I could keep going.
"Lord…!"
"It's because of the liquor."
"Oh dear."
It wasn't easy.
The noise was overwhelming.
The one saving grace was that the man himself was surprisingly calm.
"There's no way I'm possessed. I attend Sunday service and… I mean… me…"
At least he didn't seem to think it was demon-related.
If I probed further, I'd only be disappointed, so I didn't bother.
To survive here, sometimes you just have to let things slide.
Trying too hard only leads to pain.
"What organs are in the stomach?"
Anyway, I asked Joseph.
He reflexively started racking his brain.
All those anatomy and surgery lessons with constant questioning must've paid off.
He was still holding the cross, but now it seemed more out of reluctance to set it down than any intent to smack his father.
"Uh… liver! Spleen!"
"More."
Normally, I'd smack the back of his head for an answer like that…
But right now, even this much was impressive.
So I loosened my grip a little.
"K-Kidneys… and…"
"Not those. Where food passes through."
"Oh, stomach."
"And?"
"Intestines."
"Right. Intestines."
Finally, the answer I wanted.
Once Joseph heard himself say "intestines," something seemed to click, and the madness in his eyes faded slightly.
So I let go completely.
"Ugh."
The man flinched for a moment, but only briefly.
With his intestines bulging out, only a true warrior could move—and he wasn't one.
If he'd been standing, maybe, but he was lying down.
Getting up would require straining again, and enduring that pain would be like fighting for independence.
Or martyrdom, by this era's standards.
Either way, he wasn't cut out for it, so he stayed put.
"Intestines…? That's intestines?"
"Yeah. Don't intestines move?"
"Uh… yeah."
I'd seen it during surgery.
An appendectomy, to be exact.
—Agh! What is this?!
—Why is it like this?!
—Do we have to cut all of this out?!
Since it was mid-surgery, they didn't scream too loudly, but I'd heard our idiot trio's horrified reactions.
Did they think intestines just didn't move? How else would waste be processed?
Anyway, that was all in the past now.
"Yeah, it's squirming. So it is intestines. But why are they…?"
"Because…"
Now that he knew.
Yeah, we'd gotten this far.
Really… really well done, Kim Taepyeong!
A true Korean of sheer willpower!
"There must be a hole here somewhere."
"Why? Did the intestines puncture it?"
Of course, we'd only crossed one mountain.
There were still plenty more ahead.
Look at this.
This painfully naive answer.
Since when do intestines puncture the body?
That area just weakens and stretches with age.
Plus, it's where several ligaments pass through—plenty of room to stretch.
"Dunno."
I had to say I didn't know.
Damn it…
Heavens above.
If you're listening, give me something.
I'm not even asking for a status window.
Just give me Listen-level strength.
If reason won't convince them, I'll have to force compliance.
"You don't know?"
But the heavens, as always, remained silent.
So I had to resort to bullshitting again.
"Yeah, dunno. But, like… there are smaller intestines, right? Maybe they slip through gaps easily?"
"Hmm. That's serious. Should we cut out the small ones first?"
"No, that's not—"
"No?"
"Anyway, the important thing is Dad's body… Let's operate."
"But that's intestines?"
Joseph looked at me like I was insane.
This time, even my maxed-out patience ran out, and I mirrored his expression.
"Intestines are part of our bodies… Do we need to remove them with surgery?"
Ah.
So that's what he's thinking.
Yeah, that makes sense.
But we can't afford that now.
'If we wait for Paris, it'll take at least a month. If I hadn't checked this time, we'd only notice once they were strangulated.'
The hole will only widen.
More intestines will get stuck, and eventually, they'll strangulate.
The compressed tissue will rot, and in this era, that's a death sentence.
"We're closing the hole. Not removing the intestines. Dad's in pain and uncomfortable, damn it."
"Oh… But didn't you say opening the stomach has a one-in-three death rate?"
"Yeah. But…"
Not for this.
We don't even need to open it much.
Plus, we have so much liquor here.
We can just have the woman, Mom, or Dad distill some alcohol.
"This isn't like that. Let's just try."
"Uh…"
Joseph agonized briefly before nodding.
"Okay. I've never regretted listening to you."
"Right?"
All my efforts hadn't been in vain.
On top of that, the man cheerfully nodded too.
"I've always wanted to try surgery at least once in my life!"
…A weird reason, but okay.
Even after hearing those agonized screams in the square, he still wanted to?
It was a chaotic evening in many ways.