"Ugh... Uegh..."
The prisoner, surrounded by green wallpaper and wearing the green dress, was now vomiting as well.
Honestly, the loss of color in his face was likely due to him turning pale from nausea.
Well...
It could also be from sweating and losing body temperature, but to be frank, I'm not entirely sure.
Where would I have seen arsenic poisoning before?
It wasn't like my hospital back then didn't have a toxicology center.
Being one of the best hospitals in South Korea, of course it did.
But even poisonings have trends.
Arsenic? Please.
'Usually, it was herbicides... like Gramoxone or people drinking pesticides. Lots of those cases.'
I never saw arsenic.
Sure, it's probably produced somewhere, but I had no reason to encounter it.
So, this was my first time seeing a poisoning victim, is what I'm saying.
All I knew about the symptoms were what was written in literature.
"It definitely seems like poisoning."
To be honest, Lister was probably in the same boat.
He said it with such authority, but...
He probably didn't really know either.
When would he have had the chance to just sit and watch someone slowly die from poisoning like this?
Though, being a doctor, he must have done something.
Drawn blood, amputated an arm...
Whatever it was, even if I can't understand it, he must have done something.
"Couldn't it just be a coincidence?"
Amidst this, someone was spouting absolute nonsense, and I glared at them.
Lister did too.
But we both soon had to become deferential.
Why?
Because it was Inspector Jamie who said it.
Well... It's not that I don't understand.
Who started this green trend in London high society?
Of course, since it was already popular in Paris, it would have hit London eventually...
But if you had to point to the immediate culprit, it was Inspector Jamie.
'As if it's a coincidence, you bastard.'
If it had been anyone but Inspector Jamie, I would have smacked them.
Right in front of our eyes, huh?
There's a guy in green dying right there, and you call it a coincidence?
But this person is Inspector Jamie.
A noble of the British Empire wielding considerable power...
The real deal.
"Let's keep watching. If all three die, it won't be a coincidence."
Even Lister, who has a good anger management mode in the face of power—who am I to say anything?
"Yes, yes. Let's wait for now."
"Right, that prisoner isn't dead yet, is he?"
"No, he's not."
Of course, he was still breathing raggedly.
He had to be.
It's arsenic poisoning; the more he breathes, the more arsenic enters his system.
Moreover...
'I think that wallpaper is the real deal.'
The smell from the wallpaper...
That foul stench, too nasty to just dismiss as mold...
Could that be the 'poisonous vapor'?
Poisonous vapor?
Good grief.
Did I catch a 19th-century disease, talking about 'poisonous vapor'?
"Guh... Gurgle..."
While I was lost in thought for a moment, the prisoner in the middle cell was now breathing his last.
Witnessing this, the expressions of the prisoners in the side cells changed dramatically.
They probably thought... they were just put in there to be mocked, so it was understandable.
Any sane person, even if not us, should have thought something bad would happen to them when the victims' families showed up...
But did they have any sense?
It's no exaggeration to say they were illiterate, let alone highly educated.
"W-what is this!"
"P-poison! You sprayed poison!"
"Uwaaaaah!"
The panicked prisoner pressed himself against the wall.
Against... the green wall.
The very source of the poison. Who knows why he went towards it to avoid it.
Maybe arsenic poisoning causes hallucinations or something, I thought.
"G-gurgle... Ueeeh!"
Now the guy stuck to the wall也开始 vomiting.
There was probably a psychological element too.
Even if he couldn't see it, the guy next to him who was groaning had gone quiet—must be terrifying.
Sometimes, what you can't see is scarier.
"You devils! Demons!"
In contrast, the one only wearing the dress was clearly fine.
Well, if you consider the amount of arsenic exposure...
The dress should be overwhelmingly worse.
Right?
It's no exaggeration to say he's covered in lumps of arsenic.
So, that smell seeping out from the wallpaper... I suspect it's the worst culprit.
"Look at the state of this bastard crying."
Anyway, the prisoner was screaming pitifully.
Listening to him, I almost felt like we were the ones in the wrong.
But the section chief, who could be said to be the one who selected these prisoners, was rather blasé.
"Think about what you did. You deserve whatever happens to you!"
"Even so! How can you do this!"
"Hey, it's fine for you."
"You son of a bitch!"
"Can I hit this bastard once?"
The section chief's words made us curious.
We'd only heard they committed rape and murder, not the details.
It might sound apocalyptic, but...
frankly, rape and murder are common crimes in our London.
Especially murder—there are so many that it's said over half of murderers are walking around free.
Too many cases end up unsolved!
"What did he do?"
"That bastard... raped and killed his friend's wife. The child was crying, so he killed the child too, and stabbed his friend in the stomach."
"Then did the friend survive?"
"I said he was stabbed in the stomach. Would he survive?"
"Ah, right, of course."
He was a lunatic, wasn't he?
Actually, maybe because I'd been watching people die in front of me since earlier, feelings of guilt or unease had been slowly rising...
But after hearing the crimes, I felt cleansed.
Hearing the other two were even worse, I briefly thought they should be made to suffer more before dying.
Of course, being a 21st-century civilized person, I repented.
'Lord, please forgive me.'
Done.
With a relieved heart, I observed the prisoners again.
The ones surrounded by wallpaper had gone quiet.
They were probably dead.
Well...
They could be in a vegetative state, but they'll die.
We're not treating them.
No, even if we did, they'd die.
Typically, treatment for poisoning in this era was based on the concept of removing the poison from the body.
Drawing blood, drawing breath... meaning, administering relatively non-toxic and supposedly beneficial gases like mercury vapor was the treatment.
It was practically killing them.
Gulp
And finally.
A full six hours after the first prisoner started vomiting, the one only wearing the dress finally began to vomit.
Probably...
It wasn't just because of the dress.
While we were keeping our distance, with stairs right behind us and moving around, he was stuck right there.
The poisonous vapor—no, arsenic gas! Arsenic gas seeping from the wallpaper in the next cell must have poisoned him.
"All three are down."
"Dammit. So it wasn't a coincidence?"
"Correct."
"What do we do now?"
It was proven.
Of course, in the 21st century, to prove poisoning, you'd need a blood test to show arsenic is present, but well, everyone exposed died, so that's proof too.
So the mood should be bright.
"Justice has been served!"
"Thank you!"
"Now my younger brother can finally rest in peace!"
The victims' families were rejoicing, weren't they?
But Inspector Jamie's face was only dark.
I wondered if he still couldn't let go of his petty pride and stared at him.
Then I noticed the fake mustache he'd stuck on to replace the one lost due to his castrated balls, and I couldn't keep glaring.
Wasn't Inspector Jamie the most unfortunate man among London's nobility?
Butcher Harry was a criminal who deserved to die.
"But I sent this as a gift to the royal family..."
However, the words that escaped Inspector Jamie's mouth surpassed our expectations.
"It was done with sincere intentions...!"
"Quickly, send someone to the palace!"
"Yes!"
"When did you send it?"
"It's been a while now. What on earth do we do?"
"Blast it! Bring my horse! I'll go myself!"
He sent this to the royal family?
Is this assassination?
'No, but well... probably no important figures died.'
If my memory serves me right, Queen Victoria ascends in the late 1830s.
So...
That means the king didn't die before that.
'Wait, or did he?'
Was Inspector Jamie castrated back then too?
I don't know...
If the butterfly effect causes the king to die...
Will our anatomy show enthusiast, Queen Victoria, ascend to the throne soon?
'Is that... a good thing?'
I couldn't tell.
Anyway, the fortunate thing was that Inspector Jamie finally acknowledged that arsenic was poisonous.
Not that this would cause green to be banished from all of London.
The bastards openly making white phosphorus matches—you think they'll stop because of this?
But far fewer people will use it.
I believe that.
"Good."
"Indeed."
"Really... we almost had a disaster thanks to you. Good heavens, poison was almost in fashion? You see all sorts of strange things in life."
"Y-yes, sir."
This place, London, is where all strange things gather. Hearing such words from a Londoner's mouth...
Is this what they call a generation gap feeling?
Anyway, as Lister said, it was truly fortunate.
We almost added arsenic poison to hellish London, but we avoided that.
'The concept of sterilization is taking hold... Now for painkillers or something... Should I slowly start looking for those next?'
A weight was lifted off my shoulders, is what I'm saying.
Or so I thought, when I noticed Blundell was missing.
The thought that he might have gone home because he was tired never crossed my mind.
If nothing else, 19th-century doctors surpass 21st-century doctors in sheer passion alone.
It feels a bit wrong to say this right after three people died, but...
Anyway, would he give up the chance to witness medical progress firsthand just because he's tired?
Blundell wasn't the type to do that even if it killed him.
"Where did Professor Blundell go?"
"Ah... There was a woman in labor, so he went."
"Ah, a woman in labor."
Yeah, I figured.
I knew he went to see a patient.
'The field of obstetrics and gynecology is making tremendous progress too...'
Washing hands.
Obsessively!
Thanks to that, puerperal fever, that mysterious disease, had almost disappeared, at least at our London College medical school.
Even the midwives, who already washed their hands somewhat, were being thoroughly 'dealt with' by our hygiene evangelist, Joseph, with chlorinated lime, so it was natural.
As a result, the number of staff applying to our hospital's OB/GYN department was gradually decreasing...
But I believe they will all repent and return someday.
Because people hardly die here.
I want to say they just don't die, but...
Conscience prevents me from saying that.
They still die in cases of difficult childbirth.
London's maternal mortality rate was astonishingly high.
"Ah, perfect timing, Pyeong!"
"Yes?"
I was thinking such thoughts upon returning to the hospital when I heard Blundell was looking for me.
I went to see him, and Blundell was grinning widely.
He was covered in blood.
"She's lost a lot of blood. Lend me your IV set. I need to give her blood."
Ah.
'Fucking blood transfusion...'
It seems the day I can just calmly focus on research will never come.