"Hey."
The ones blocking the way were detectives.
No matter the era, the impression of violent crimes detectives… honestly, isn't it hard to tell them apart from gangsters?
"Uh…"
As three such men blocked the path, the well-dressed chef was also startled.
Of course, having been someone who inhabited 21st-century South Korea, he had his own unique qualities and immediately assumed a fighting stance.
"I haven't done anything wrong!"
Perhaps he'd had experiences where family or acquaintances of the deceased had come looking for him, as he even shouted this.
Or maybe he was saying it for the passersby to hear.
Actually, London had been overpopulated for a long time, so wherever you went, there were lots of people, and it wasn't much different now—people were already starting to gather.
"Hey, hey."
"What?"
"It's Pyeong Shin and Liston…"
"Ah… damn it…"
However, everyone who recognized me and Liston immediately turned on their heels and disappeared the way they had come.
Since everyone recognized us, it was safe to assume that all the people who might have helped had vanished.
"Damn it…"
The chef also lowered his fist as soon as he saw me and Liston blocking his retreat.
"P-please, spare me!"
No, he even knelt down.
'What's this?'
'They usually do this, I hear.'
'No… isn't this a bit unusual?'
'No, everyone does this. Think about it. How bad is London's public safety? If you suddenly run into people like this, wouldn't you kneel first?'
'Would you kneel, hyung?'
'I'd make them kneel.'
Well, whatever…
I looked at my hyung, who was hard to reason with, and then turned my attention back to the chef.
The detectives had already approached and were tying him up.
They then identified themselves as police officers.
"We have some questions, so come along quietly. Don't worry too much."
"P-please, spare me…"
"We're the police."
"Why are the police with gang members!"
"Gang… Well, there's a reason for that."
"No, we're not a gang."
It wasn't very effective.
It was because of us.
Strange rumors had spread everywhere.
Calling people who save lives a gang? How unjust is that?
"Got him, I see."
"Ugh."
"No, why do you appear out of the darkness? You really seem like gangsters."
"Well, we are gangsters now, I guess."
The superintendent was downright enjoying this situation.
Being a police official, he was a large man, and seeing such a guy dressed in black clothes and a black hat, suddenly appearing out of a dark place, he really looked like a back-alley crime boss.
"Don't even think about running."
"J-just spare my life…"
Well…
It wasn't all bad.
He was coming along quietly.
It seemed he didn't even dare to try to run.
Then again, if I were in his place, with someone like me, Liston, and detectives all around, I'd probably just hope for a painless end too.
Ah, though I'd brace myself for having to drink some piss and shit water.
"Uh… really the police?"
"That's what I said, yes."
Moreover, it was a misunderstanding that would soon be cleared up.
Once we got to the police station, right?
Of course, that didn't mean the chef's expression eased up.
19th-century police stations were very different from 21st-century ones, so that was why.
Depending on the situation, the police could be scarier than thugs.
There were cases where people disappeared without a trace and ended up floating in the Thames River… it wasn't unheard of.
"Have a seat for now."
"Yes, yes."
So, unlike in dramas, there was no causing a scene upon arriving at the police station.
Why?
Because you'd really get beaten.
For starters, the detectives—well, the officers—all carried truncheons on their hips.
They weren't for self-defense or for show; they were carried as practical weapons.
I've seen them swing those things a few times.
100% chance someone dies from being hit.
"How long have you been cooking?"
"Huh?"
"I said, how long have you been doing it?"
"Ah… It's been a long time."
He had no choice but to be cooperative in the interrogation, that was the implication.
That said, it wasn't like things were coming out quickly and easily all of a sudden.
For one, 19th-century interrogation techniques weren't exactly advanced.
And…
"But what should we even ask?"
"I don't know either. If we just ask everything, something will probably come out, right?"
"By the way, seriously… Is he really the one who killed those people?"
"I don't know that either. Well… since Pyeong Shin said it… he probably isn't just saying it for no reason, right?"
Above all, the interrogators were fumbling.
Not only that, but Liston was too.
"Really… is he the culprit?"
"Didn't we bring him in because you thought so?"
"No, I did it because you suggested it."
"Well…"
We sounded like accomplices shifting blame.
But, well… I guess that was probably true.
It was strange to truly believe it just because he'd sold some Joseon goods.
"First of all, the symptoms… he doesn't have any at all, right? Moreover, the patients had diarrhea, I heard. Does diarrhea usually last over a year?"
"Well…"
On top of that, the concept of a carrier was too difficult not only for the general public but also for Liston.
How do you make someone who understands disease through miasma rather than germs comprehend that there can be a person who carries germs, where they steadily multiply inside, but actually shows no symptoms…?
'As expected…'
The moment I thought, 'What should I do?' a method miraculously came to mind.
A little…
I did feel a pang of conscience…
But, as I've said repeatedly, it's too late to turn back now.
And if we don't detain this person now, there's no telling how many people he might kill in the future.
"Ah, Pyeong Shin."
As I was organizing the method I'd thought of, the superintendent approached.
He looked somewhat serious.
"Yes, Superintendent."
"No matter how much we interrogate him… hmm. He just seems like too nice of a guy."
Of course, he had to be a nice guy.
Because he's a nice guy, he'd do his best to cook delicious food, right?
And more people would get sick?
That can't happen.
'Looking at the patients' symptoms… the talk of poisoning didn't start for no reason.'
It definitely is typhoid.
They suffered, I heard.
They had fevers.
They suffered from diarrhea and abdominal pain near the end.
Even though it's an era where germs can't be identified…
With this many hints, failing to diagnose it is a disgrace, a disgrace, even for someone who was once a university professor.
"Even in Joseon, it wasn't easy to prove. In fact, we still don't know the reason."
"Hmm… So, you have a method?"
"Are there any death row inmates right now?"
"Do you think there will ever be a day when London runs out of death row inmates?"
Well, it's a world full of people who really deserve to die.
In fact, even among those not specifically sentenced to death, there are plenty who absolutely deserve it.
On top of that, the government also likes to hold executions regularly.
The citizens enjoy them.
I can understand that.
London…
It's not a city you can call livable for the common people, even as a empty compliment, so doesn't it need some kind of entertainment like that?
"Then, have him cook and feed those people."
"Huh…? Cook? They're people who deserve to die; why would we cook for them?"
"It's just my inference, but it seems miasma comes from him, whether from his hands or somewhere else."
"Ah… Is that so?"
"People infected with miasma become like that."
"But he isn't, is he?"
"Couldn't it be possible to have miasma multiplying without any symptoms?"
"Is that… I'm not a doctor, so I don't know, but is that possible?"
The superintendent looked at Liston instead of me.
Liston shrugged his shoulders.
Normally, that would be the end of it, but Liston is someone who absolutely loves experiments.
"Nothing has been proven… but when you think about it, the fact that miasma comes from corpses and patients wasn't proven at all until we experimented."
"Then… are you suggesting we try it?"
"Yes. They're death row inmates anyway, right? Let's test it on the worst among them."
"They're all the worst, that's why they're on death row."
"Well, that's true."
"My issue is that we have to 'cook' for people who deserve to die."
Ah…
Listening to the conversation, I realized I still hadn't fully adapted to the 19th century.
The experiment itself wasn't what made them uncomfortable.
Of course, that didn't mean there was no other way.
'How is the carrier spreading the germs…?'
Surely not through sweat, right?
If you thought that, I hope you smack your forehead and repent.
Well… if you're not a medical professional, you probably wouldn't think that anyway.
In the medical field, there's a term for this.
'Fecal to oral.'
It literally means 'from feces to mouth'…
It might sound disgusting, but many diseases actually spread this way.
The advice to wash your hands after using the toilet exists for a reason.
Sure, it smells and is generally unpleasant, so you wipe, but…
From a medical perspective, you wipe to remove the germs that come out with feces.
'Probably… the reason people didn't die quickly despite this chef… is partly because, as a carrier, he doesn't excrete a huge amount of germs, but also because he works in an upper-class household, so he likely washes his hands with water and then cooks.'
Originally, British cuisine…
I'm not even sure if it should be called cooking.
Anyway, it doesn't seem like it involves handling things too much.
The point is, if you apply what's excreted and give it to them, that should do it.
"Hmm…"
"Pyeong… are you suggesting that again?"
So, I told them my idea.
The chef would provide his feces, and we would use those feces to prepare food for the prisoners.
Upon hearing this, both the superintendent and Liston looked utterly appalled.
"That's a bit…"
"Are they really that bad?"
The detectives made similar faces.
"What do you plan to do with my feces?"
Above all, the chef was the most horrified.
"I'll just cook for free!"
"I said we don't need you to cook, just give us your feces!"
"How could you do such a thing!"
"They're going to be killed anyway."
"Even when it's time to go… how could you do that? And why my feces? If you want to feed them that, why not feed them your feces, sir?"
"My feces can't kill people."
"My feces can't either!"
"No, they can."
"Ge-Gentlemen officers! Please help me!"
I tried my best to persuade him logically, but it was useless.
"Hmm. Well, if he's being like this, what can we do? Just have him cook."
Even Liston said this.
It seems like if we just applied the feces, we could confirm it right away.
'Hyung. Can't we just steal his poop?'
'No, I don't feel like it.'
Even underhanded methods were out of the question.
Well, I could bring it myself, but…
That's a bit… you know?
"Shall we do that?"
So, we reached an agreement: he would go home for now and come back later to cook.
Ah, it's not like we just let him go like that.
"Chef."
"Yes."
For some reason, he's been acting a bit feisty since earlier…
"Before you cook at the Count's house, be sure to wash your hands, and even if you need to defecate, hold it in, come here, do it, and then just cook."
"Please, stop it…"
After making that reasonable proposal, we sent him on his way.