"Ugh... ugh..."
Truly, he was a sailor through and through.
Even with the gas flowing, he was still conscious enough to glare at me.
"Look at this bastard's eyes. I ought to scoop them out with a spoon."
"Ugh... ugh!"
But what could I do?
This wasn't the time for that.
I hadn't expected our professor to escalate things so fiercely…
Still, thanks to the patient's defiant glare, Liston and the others genuinely believed there was bad blood between us.
Which meant they held him down tightly.
'To do this without strong painkillers…'
Honestly, I wasn't an orthopedic surgeon, and the hospital I'd worked at was so large that I rarely had to deal with other departments' cases.
Sure, I'd occasionally visited the operating room for fun, but…
This was an emergency room case.
Since I'd worked in a trauma center, I'd seen it done—but the only time I'd handled it myself was during my military service.
'Back then…'
Fortunately, the first case wasn't a fracture but a soldier with a dislocated shoulder.
Well, fortunate for me—not so much for the patient.
It wasn't like I'd been trained for it.
I knew the general procedure, but…
'I had to video call an emergency medicine senior to learn how to reduce it.'
In the end, I managed it.
After nearly dying (or killing the patient) from all the fumbling, I finally got it back in place. Without analgesics, one of us would've passed out—me from getting punched, him from the pain.
Luckily, we had strong enough painkillers to make him loopy, plus muscle relaxants, so we somehow pulled it off.
'But now? Nothing. Not even laughing gas… which isn't great for sustained pain anyway.'
You might think that if we could perform abdominal surgery, this should be manageable.
But the thing is, abdominal surgery hurts most during the incision—after that, organ handling just causes dull pain.
Bone pain, though…
The more I think about it, the more I'm convinced Guan Yu scraping his arm bone clean was just an exaggerated legend.
That kind of pain isn't something willpower can endure.
You'd just die.
"Alright, Professor."
"Yeah."
"Use this table leg."
"To hit him?"
As I prepared to pull, I remembered—this was a world without casts.
We needed at least a splint, but did we have one?
If I hadn't made it myself, it probably didn't exist.
Luckily, the straight table leg seemed like a decent substitute, so I suggested it. Liston, with his monstrous strength, lifted the entire table.
"Whoa, Professor!"
Even the sailors flinched.
The table had been nailed to the floor to keep it steady in the rough waves.
But with a creak, Liston ripped it right out.
This man really should've been born in an earlier era.
He'd have been a king, not just a general.
"Just the leg."
"So... hit him with the leg?"
"No, no—just cut the leg off."
"His leg? It's his arm that's broken."
"No, the table leg. Am I not making sense?"
"You're phrasing it weirdly. Anyway—"
Look at this.
Snap.
When did he even draw his knife?
And when did he cut the leg off?
Having amputated so many human limbs, he sliced the table leg off in one clean stroke.
"Here."
"Ah, place it on the floor. There!"
"Uh-huh."
While everyone else was stunned, Professor Liston handed it over with a blank face.
I took it and passed it to Professor Blundell, who'd finally regained his senses.
Though still dazed, he'd be able to hand it back later.
Anyway, once the makeshift splint and binding materials were ready, I gave the signal with my eyes.
It was time to begin.
"On the count of three, pull."
"Got it."
"This'll be harder than you think. His arm's thick, and it'll hurt… so he'll resist. You'll have to overpower that."
"Winning is what I do best."
"I believe in you."
I said that, but honestly, I was skeptical.
Cutting a table leg with a knife and this were two different things.
There's a reason orthopedic residencies test for strength, you know?
Even with all the meds…
This isn't easy.
'But we have no choice.'
If we don't do this, we'll have to amputate—and then he'll die.
He'd die either way.
So we had to try.
Gritting my teeth, I shouted:
"One, two, three!"
"Pull!"
"Ugh!"
I tightened my core and yanked the arm with all my strength.
So did Joseph.
And Liston… whoa.
'This man… I've found it. Orthopedics!'
There was a tearing sound.
Luckily, nothing actually tore, but the skin definitely stretched.
The bone?
It roughly realigned.
The burly sailor's arm muscles were no match for Dr. Liston's strength—they just gave way.
'The muscles might be a bit damaged, though…'
I'd never seen anything like it.
Even with muscle relaxants, it wouldn't have gone this smoothly.
But…
This was…
Honestly, Joseph and I were almost unnecessary.
Who knew there was someone who could do this alone?
"What's wrong? Did it go badly? Should we just amputate? Looks better than before to me."
"N-No. It went perfectly. As expected of you, Professor. In Joseon… this is really difficult, but you did it in one go."
"Haha. I'm flattered, but when it comes to strength, I bow to no one."
"R-Right."
I hadn't believed enough.
This man was a god.
No, if he were a god, he'd end up crucified…
He must've been Xiang Yu in a past life.
"Pass me the leg."
"Here."
While thinking that, I quickly positioned the splint against the patient's arm and tightly wrapped it with curtain fabric as a makeshift bandage.
"Should I do it? Will it stay like that?"
To me, it felt tight, but to Liston, it probably seemed loose.
With his strength, pulling it tighter would've cut off circulation.
If that were necessary, I'd have asked…
But overtightening isn't always the answer.
Otherwise, the arm would die from lack of blood flow.
Anyone who understands blood pressure would naturally think of this, and ER interns learn it the hard way—through scoldings and mistakes.
Always leave the fingertips visible.
If they start turning purple, loosen it.
"Ah, no. This is another Joseon secret."
"Huh… Joseon… truly fascinating. It definitely looks better than before. Did the bone heal?"
"N-No. That takes time. We just realigned the displaced fragments."
"Hmm… how does that work?"
Should I explain this?
I hesitated briefly.
'I've already dumbed down germ theory for them. What's one more thing?'
But only for a moment.
After all, we were heading to Paris to spin another tall tale.
Everyone else thought it was about miasma, so I was the only liar here…
But at this point, there was no reason to hold back.
"Honestly, in Joseon, it was just empirical knowledge."
And I'd gotten very good at lying.
With the mystique of Joseon growing daily, no one dared question me.
"But after coming here and studying anatomy…"
"Yeah?"
"Remember when you taught me about arm anatomy, Professor?"
"I do."
"I once made a mistake and broke a bone."
"You broke a bone?"
"Yeah."
"Did that really happen?"
Look at him.
It absolutely never happened, but he's tilting his head like he's trying to recall.
By now, anything I said sounded plausible.
"Yes, yes. And when that happened, the arm muscles contracted slightly."
Not because it was dead—muscle fibers just return to their most relaxed length.
"Hmm?"
"If it were alive, they'd have contracted more. See, muscles tense up, right? Look here—"
"At what?"
"I'm not very muscular, so… ugh. Professor…"
"Right, like this. The muscle."
I stared at his overwhelming biceps and continued.
"Exactly. That contraction force is what displaces broken bones. So…"
"You pull to realign them?"
"Yes."
"And then immobilize them like this?"
"Right!"
"Seems a bit flimsy… Shouldn't we wrap it with something sturdier?"
Wow…
Moments like this remind me that intelligence hasn't changed much between the 19th and 21st centuries.
No, if anything, Liston's more talented than I am.
With the right teaching…
Though our ages and statuses were reversed, I was certain he'd become an even greater doctor, remembered by history.
"Yeah, I agree… but we don't have anything better."
"True. Can't exactly ask a blacksmith to forge something now… and even if we did, it'd be too hot to use."
"Right."
I barely stopped myself from asking if plaster casts existed here.
That was something to look into later.
There were so many things that already existed but weren't being used.
"S-So… is it done?"
"Yes. For now. But if he moves, it'll displace again, so he must stay still. Let him rest."
A sailor mustered the courage to interrupt our conversation.
Though the question was for me, his eyes kept darting to Liston.
Understandable.
Given what we'd just demonstrated…
Anyway, I did my best to explain.
"Ah, but this isn't common, right?"
"Huh? Oh… well, it's not rare."
He asked in case another injured person showed up.
Thankfully, this was a closed fracture—if it had been open, he'd have been a goner.
The answer, as usual, wasn't very hopeful.
"I see. Let's pray, then."
"Yeah."
I clasped my hands, and the sailor grabbed a talisman.
If I'm ever accused of witchcraft and burned at the stake, I should mention this talisman for sailing safety.
"Let's step out. The sea view is worth it."
Exhausted from the treatment, I was about to rest when Liston, seemingly stifled, dragged even Colin outside.
I wasn't thrilled about being forced out…
Until I saw the sea.
"Wow."
"Does Joseon not have seas like this?"
Liston said something ridiculous upon seeing my refreshed expression in the cool breeze.
Sure, we might not match island nations like England, but three sides of Korea are surrounded by water.
"N-No. It's a peninsula. Like Italy."
"Ah, right. Anyway… at this pace, we'll reach France soon."
"Not Paris directly, right?"
"Don't be ignorant. We'll disembark at Calais and take a carriage. That'll take a few more days. France is annoyingly vast."
France…
What kind of hellscape awaits there?
Surely better than London?
It has to be.