"Hmm."
"Hmmmm."
We laid out the spoils we had plundered.
No, that's not right.
The items we had acquired for research purposes were laid out in the lecture hall.
Paper, fabric, paint, wallpaper, soap, lampshades, toys, candles, cloth, cake decorations, sweets, dresses, artificial flowers… a wide variety of items were lined up.
My god.
I had no idea arsenic was used in so many different products.
'Now that I see them all together, I kinda get why they use it.'
Damn.
It is pretty, though.
The color is so radiant… it even gives off a bit of a Goryeo celadon vibe.
The one difference being that Goryeo celadon isn't associated with death, but this is a deadly poison.
'Or is it…?'
Seeing it used so widely, I briefly wondered if I might be wrong.
Wouldn't that make sense?
These people also have eyes and can think… wouldn't they have reconsidered if people were dropping dead left and right next to them?
Besides, I heard this Scheele's Green or whatever has been out for decades already.
Then a ton of people must have died from it?
'No… no.'
Then I recalled the Seine and Thames rivers, and my head shook automatically.
These lunatics…
Despite countless people dying every year from cholera and other causes, they made no improvements whatsoever, literally none.
Actually, it's hard to solely blame these guys.
Regardless of the reason, death lurked everywhere in this era.
Probably the number of people dying per unit area was higher than in any other era, right?
So, their… what should I call it…
Tolerance?
Anyway, it was something else.
- Look here. It's a gift for my nephew, what do you think?
To give you an idea, a while ago, Blundell showed me what he called a gift for his nephew: funeral playthings, including a coffin.
It looked so real…
Especially the coffin—if it were just a bit bigger, it looked like it could be buried in the London National Cemetery right away.
- Please wash the corpse cleanly.
And that's not all.
There was this one family…
They washed their dead child, dressed him up, and took a photo together.
His younger sibling was sitting next to him.
It was for a family portrait.
Including the deceased family member.
"There's so much of it."
"Exactly."
Unlike my complex and complicated feelings, Liston's impression was simple.
Not wrong.
It was fucking everywhere.
To the point I wondered if they were arsenic enthusiasts.
"All of this contains arsenic… what do you think would happen if that arsenic is toxic?"
"They'd die."
"But they're not dying, are they?"
"I don't know… that."
"You don't know? Well, I guess you wouldn't. But the people handling these goods still seem fine."
"From what I saw, aside from the apothecary, it didn't seem like the others had been in business for that long."
"Well… that's true too. Hmmm… So, should we bring some people in?"
Why on earth does the conclusion here jump to 'bringing people in'?
The sad part is that I had nothing more to say against it.
What good would just lining up these arsenic-related items do?
I had thought that too at one point…
"Wow…"
"So pretty."
"Wow… luxurious."
The numerous items we had plundered were the kind that couldn't possibly stay a secret.
The green dress and wallpaper that were taking London high society by storm—no, that's not an exaggeration—plus the desserts you had to queue for…
With rumors spreading that various luxurious green items were filling the lecture hall, not just medical students but students from other departments flocked in.
Control?
That wasn't necessary.
- This is my property. Anyone who touches it will die.
Thanks to Liston's sharp, menacing warning, everyone just looked.
A few dared to reach their hands close, but that was it.
"It's late today, shall we bring them in tomorrow?"
"Shall we?"
So, we left Colin with the rough task of keeping an eye on things and headed home.
No, only Liston did.
I remembered something I'd left behind and headed back to the lecture hall.
And there…
"Uh, uh!"
I found a patient collapsed inside the closed lecture hall.
"Ugh."
He was vomiting.
Exactly the same.
As that patient.
"Damn it!"
Cursing, I first dragged the student outside.
"Liston! Blundell!"
"Joseph! Alfred! Colin! Hey, Colin, where did you go!"
Then I called all the guys I was close to.
Meaning for anyone to come and help…
"Ugh."
Colin appeared first.
He looked slightly pale.
"What? Are you okay?"
"I, I vomited. Came out. Felt dizzy. Sorry…"
Come to think of it…
He was the one who had been in that room the longest, checking things.
"Damn it. Go to the ward! Go lie down for now!"
"Uh… yes, yessir."
He seemed to be in real pain.
Normally, he'd say, 'I'm fine! I'll tough it out with 19th-century grit, willpower, and spirit! This much arsenic! If it helps medicine…' and probably chew a handful, but at the word 'lie down', he scurried off.
"What is it? What's wrong?"
"What's going on?"
Joseph and Alfred must have been dissecting something…
They were running over while taking off their gloves.
And not just them.
Lately, our Joseph seems to have developed a bit of an obsession?
Fortunately, it's a hygiene obsession, not some other compulsion.
"Ugh, ugh."
"Ughhh."
Groaning in pain himself…
He poured chloride of lime from an iron container—the kind usually used for carrying brandy—onto his own hands and then Alfred's.
Yeah, it's not soap, but if you clean with that much…
"Agh, you damn bastard."
Me too?
"There's no professor or student when it comes to washing hands."
"Well… true."
Since it was to that degree, it was hard to get mad.
Anyway…
He's washing his hands…
He wants to kill miasma, you know.
Criticizing someone who has made such a huge leap forward wouldn't be proper for a 21st-century civilized person.
"But why did you call?"
"Who is this?"
"He was collapsed inside there."
"Natural causes?"
"To the dissection room?"
"He's not dead yet!"
You crazy bastards…
Why are you trying to kill a perfectly fine person?
"Ah, he's alive."
"He's vomiting. Should we open the abdomen?"
No, no.
We can't open the abdomen.
"Arsenic. It's arsenic."
"Arsenic? Ah… You said all that stuff inside contains arsenic."
"Yes. It seems like poisoning. Arsenic causes vomiting, diarrhea, sweating, right? His body is gradually getting cold. He'll die like this!"
"Well, we can't have that."
After some difficulties, we headed towards the ward, dragging the patient with us.
There, Colin, who had arrived first and was lying down, greeted us with a dazed expression.
"H-hello…"
"Just rest. When did this start?"
"Actually, about an hour after you left me in charge?"
"An hour?"
"Yes."
"That's early… What? Did you do something else?"
"I felt a bit dizzy, so I drank Fowler's solution."
"Ah, you crazy fool."
Giving arsenic for arsenic poisoning symptoms…
What a brilliant idea.
"IV fluids!"
"Okay, IV fluids."
"We'll have to make it from scratch. It'll be quick."
"Heard the commotion. IV fluids? Leave it to me."
I almost despaired at the still-prevalent 19th-century medicine, but…
Seeing them move like demons at the word 'IV fluids' made me feel much better.
Joseph, Alfred, and now Blundell who had joined…
Weren't they all warriors of the Seine?
It's no exaggeration to say they reduced the death toll during the Paris cholera incident by at least half.
It was only natural their sense of hygiene was thorough…
Bubble bubble.
Boiling water.
Drip drip drip.
Distilling.
Tap tap tap.
Measuring and adding salt.
Honestly, I couldn't even do that.
Why?
Why… why are they still obsessed with inches and pounds?
I can't get used to it…
"It's done."
"The needle is thoroughly sterilized too."
"The scalpel too!"
Anyway, with the help of the IV Avengers, I received a perfectly manufactured IV solution.
The problem was that we couldn't immediately administer a solution made on the spot like this.
Uh…
It's hot.
The inner lining of blood vessels isn't incredibly tough, unlike the oral mucosa.
If we inject it like this, it'll probably cook.
Make it in advance then?
Preservation was impossible.
This is an era without proper sealed containers, let alone refrigerators.
"Hang in there just a bit."
"Ugh… Yes. Ugh."
We had to tough it out, relying on sheer grit and willpower until it cooled down.
At least Colin seemed a bit better.
He's…
The kid's tough.
His mentality did break once after seeing a bloated corpse, but if seeing that didn't break you, that would be a problem too, right?
"How are you?"
"Ugh…"
In contrast, the collapsed patient was almost losing consciousness.
"What on earth did you eat?"
"I… thought it was a plant."
"A plant?"
Damn, did he chew on an artificial flower?
I wanted to ask why he did it, but I couldn't.
"Ugh. Uuugh."
He vomited…
"Uh, uhh."
Had diarrhea…
"Ugh, ughhhhh."
Now, sweating was accompanied by chills.
They seem to think this is a fever-reducing effect and use it as medicine…
But really, it's better to see it as the process of dying.
People in the old days were just tough, so they got cold and recovered, but if they were weak modern people from the 21st century like me, they'd all be dead.
"IV fluids! This is urgent here!"
"Uh, it's still a bit warm though?"
"Actually… actually, that's good. As long as it doesn't cook him. Scalpel!"
"Uh, okay."
It's urgent.
The acute poisoning symptoms are progressing very rapidly.
And for good reason.
The green of the artificial flower…
'It was intense. Radiantly intense.'
The concentration of arsenic must be no joke too.
I thought this as I lightly slashed the neck with the scalpel.
Not to kill him.
The needles we have are crude, you see?
If you just stab hard, you miss the blood vessel and hit somewhere else.
Or tear it.
If it were a thin hypodermic needle, it might be different, but the ones used for IV fluids are thicker, making it worse.
Sschick.
So, I cut the skin, went in a bit, decided to look at the blood vessel directly and pierce it.
It's a very unfamiliar concept in modern medicine, and I'd hardly ever done it, but both I and the assistants were very familiar with it.
Why?
We did it a ton in Paris!
Moreover, back then, people were dying in droves, plus rumors spread that you'd die if you went into Paris from elsewhere, so supplies were scarce too.
Compared to that, this is like heaven.
I never thought I'd live to call 19th-century London heaven…
Poke.
Anyway, that's how it happened.
"Ugh. Ughhh."
"Feels weird, right? But if you move, you'll die, so stay still. If you can't handle it, say so."
I looked back at Alfred.
Our senior who is the best at gastric lavage in the world.
He was still making kreek kreek sounds with the lavage equipment.
If he sensed anything strange, he was ready to pump and suction immediately.
"Colin. You okay too?"
"Yes, yes. But I…"
"You?"
"Anesthesia, please."
"Ah."
Aha.
Our patient was moving because… it hurt?
Sorry.
Haha.
I forgot.