"Well, then, on to the next agenda... What about Pimmelier (Blood-mmelier)?"
They say it's one mountain after another.
Here, it's shit after blood.
Fuck...
I haven't sworn since my school days, but here, it just... It feels like curses will fly out if I just open my mouth.
"Blood... Hmm. There's a problem."
"What kind?"
So I kept my mouth shut. Should I call this fortunate?
Our Professor Blundell opened his mouth and stepped in to block.
"First of all, stopping bleeding isn't an easy task."
"Ah... Isn't it just about making a hole and pressing down?"
"It is, but if you just make a hole carelessly and miasma gets in, it's a big problem."
"Uh... Is that really possible?"
"It is."
Blundell.
Overshadowed by Liston, but when it comes to bizarre tasks that require using your head rather than physical strength, it's fair to say Blundell is almost always involved.
It's not a false accusation; it's truly the case.
"I'm in charge of blood transfusions, aren't I?"
"Ah, that's right."
Blundell spoke while looking toward the Police Commissioner.
Looking at the nodding Commissioner, I truly felt that I had really made it.
No, the people sitting here...
Aren't they practically the powers-that-be in London?
And the fact that we're working with these gentlemen... if this isn't amazing, then what is?
"Blood transfusion... I also thought it was a panacea, but there are more problems than you'd think."
"What problems are there?"
"Pyeong-shin also gave me a hint on this, but among the people saved by blood transfusion, quite a few developed diseases they didn't have before... especially syphilis and the like."
"Couldn't it be that they had syphilis originally and didn't know?"
"We have a priest here too."
"Ah, aah. Right."
Lord Jamie, perhaps flustered by having accidentally said something he shouldn't have, hurriedly nodded.
Probably, in his mind, he's thinking that just because he's a priest doesn't mean he's never done it.
The thing is...
Sexual desire isn't something you can just suppress by willing it.
Well, some people are born that way, but more people aren't.
Besides, the 19th century... has too many temptations.
Above all, the temptation that "I won't get caught" is too strong.
Actually, many priests are real powerholders too.
"So, we've stopped doing transfusions unless absolutely necessary. Right now, we only do it for people on the verge of death."
"Ah... I see. But?"
"I'm telling you that there might be something in that blood, Your Grace."
"Aah. Hmm."
At Blundell's words, Lord Jamie rolled his eyes again.
In the past, that is, when I was much more naive, I would have wondered why he's doing that.
But now I know.
He's probably thinking, what's the problem with that?
A commoner tasting noble blood...
Isn't that a great honor?
If they can help through it, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to call it an unparalleled honor.
They get paid for it too, and in exchange, there's a possibility they might feel a bit unwell?
What's the problem? That's what he'd think.
If you could exchange the life of a commoner or a pauper for the health of a British Empire noble or member of parliament, he'd undoubtedly think it should be done.
"And..."
But Blundell's words didn't stop there.
He was looking at me with a somewhat troubled expression and speaking up.
It was a situation where I should be nervous.
19th-century doctors aren't easily troubled.
Even if someone dies right before their eyes.
Even if they die horribly.
Unless there are a lot of them, then it's a bit different.
"Actually, Pimmelier... I think I had this idea first."
"Huh?"
"Before a transfusion, aren't we supposed to draw a little blood for cross-verification anyway?"
"Aah. That's right. I heard that's the principle."
"But it seemed such a waste to just mix that drawn blood with the patient's blood and throw it all away. Then, in some cases, I learned that along with the blood, miasma... disease is transmitted."
"So... you had them taste it, didn't you."
"Yes."
Ah.
So you already did it.
You did.
Fuck...
"So what happened?"
"Everyone who volunteered to be a Pimmelier is sick now. Very sick."
"Aha. How long has it been?"
"A month?"
"Then it won't do. Who would have thought blood is more dangerous than urine? Amazing."
"Yes. It's probably better not to attempt Pimmelier."
I wondered if I should call this fortunate.
Blundell is a madman, but he's a madman with common sense.
If other doctors had done it, they would have stubbornly pushed it through until the idea they first conceived when starting the experiment was achieved, regardless of whether people died or not.
Wasn't it the same with phantom pain?
They kept cutting off arms until they said it didn't hurt...
Of course, I found out after going to the concentration camp—no, the monastery...
At least those who cut off arms actually believed that phantom pain is real.
There were quite a few phantom pain patients among those locked up there too...
"Good. Then let's give up on Byeonmmelier and Pimmelier..."
Anyway, shit and blood are resolved.
I wanted to end it here, but our achievements were too great for that.
"About the surgery for opening the head for headaches... I've been getting some inquiries from people who want this done."
As Lord Jamie closed his mouth, this time the Director stepped in.
I couldn't believe my ears.
What are you talking about?
"People want their heads opened?"
"Yes. Do you know how many chronic headache sufferers there are? Among them, my friend, many have found no effect from bloodletting, fainting, or electrotherapy. But this time, the MP recovered completely."
That person...
That MP's prognosis is very good indeed.
Actually, while opening his head, I came to my senses and started getting anxious, didn't I?
Even in a sterilized operating room, wearing a surgical gown and gloves, with proper anesthesia and opening with a drill, it's a dangerous surgery, right? A craniotomy.
Of course, according to the chemist uncle, in the Andes Mountains, the origin of the coca leaf, they've been opening heads for a very long time, but so what? How long did they live?
And I don't even know why they opened them in the first place.
"That... our MP was..."
Anyway, the important thing is that we must stop them from opening heads.
I need to persuade them, that's what it means...
'What would happen if I said it was just a coincidence that he was cured?'
Right now, the outcome is good, so they might let it slide, but will they later?
What if they think that the bastard Pyeong-shin opened my head just banking on a coincidence?
Wouldn't things get quite difficult if that thought even crosses their minds?
"There happened to be an injured spot, there was swelling in that area, and the course itself was one where blood had pooled, so he was cured."
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"Huh?"
"You directly drew blood from the head, didn't you? Because of that rumor, my friend, some hospitals have already made this."
The Director, while listening to the brilliant answer I squeezed out, seemed to have closed his ears, as he pulled out a strange object.
No, it could be called a fascinating object.
What should I call this?
Yeah, I guess I'd call it a manual drill.
If you turn it, it looks like it would go thump thump thump through the skull.
No, not that it's the same, but it looks like that.
"This..."
"Yes. Wouldn't it work to just drill anywhere and draw blood?"
"No, how could that be? Are they doing this right now?"
"Yes. Other hospitals have already started. Fortunately, since the operating surgeons aren't you or Liston, the upper class isn't going, but some brave souls are going there."
"To get their heads opened?"
"Yes."
"Any dead?"
"Don't know yet. I was busy getting the object, couldn't get patient information."
No...
Common sense says you should get the patient information first, shouldn't you?
In a way, isn't this the second Harry the Butcher incident?
No, it's not.
Voluntarily getting your balls cut off is much better than voluntarily getting your head opened.
It's still not something one person should do to another, but...
And in the end, quite a few will die...
Just opening the head can kill you.
Moreover...
'Probably not. Surely not...'
These bastards are perfectly capable of making it look like they drew blood by drawing blood if there isn't any.
It's not that they aren't; hasn't anatomy made dazzling progress?
Especially the head, mad scientist-like fellows have dissected so skillfully that everyone knows the locations of the major arteries and veins well.
If they just slice one of those open and blood comes out! Success...!
It would be strange for it to be a success while people are dying, but in the 19th century, it's possible.
The surgery was successful, but the patient died due to their own mistake...
That's the established theory.
"It was injured and bleeding, and we removed that... broadly speaking, it's bloodletting... but it's not ordinary bloodletting, I mean."
"Hoo, what do we do about this? So you're saying we can't do it?"
Is that all you're worried about?
You're worried that we can't open heads while others can?
"Wouldn't it be better to just stop everyone from doing it?"
As I was looking at the Director in astonishment, Liston stepped in.
This wasn't what I wanted to say either.
Stopping everyone is what I want, but...
Liston's nuance clearly isn't about convincing through medical discussion and teaching.
"Give me the list. I'll sabotage it."
"Aah, will you do that? Commissioner?"
"I'll turn a blind eye. If you need help, I'll help. This time, Liston played such a big role in driving out the East End trash that there's talk within the police that we need to repay him at least once."
"Good. Then. Let's do that."
But somehow it was resolved.
It's possible because the police and thugs are colluding to protect humanity's safety.
Really... no matter how many times I see it, it makes my heart feel grand.
"Next is..."
I thought there might be more...
It can't be helped.
I guess I'm just too good?
I'm accomplishing so many things that even for 19th-century people, it must be mind-blowing.
"Cocaine."
Ah, this isn't because I'm so good...
"According to Drug Master Pyeong-shin, it can be very harmful..."
"But some say it tremendously boosts virility?"
The one presiding over the meeting was still the Director, and the person now raising an objection was, surprisingly, the usually quiet Lord Damian.
He was cautious enough not to fall for Harry's tricks, but now his eyes were slightly glazed over.
Then and now, in Korea or the British Empire, it seems the word 'virility' always has this effect.
"The chemist's words?"
"Yes. That friend said on the day he used it, he did it three times... Didn't he look quite virile?"
Three times...
In that body...
'He'll die soon...'
Thinking that, I raised my hand.
To prevent it from going down in history as the worst narcotic, I had to bring about a reversal here.
At the very least, I shouldn't take the lead in doing something.
Fortunately, that didn't seem too difficult.