Cocaine.
Pastor John X. Newman called it a gift from God, a blessing...
That's because Pastor John Newman is a drug dealer, making huge money from it and even wielding power, so he says that.
In reality... it's just the devil's substance.
Do you know how many pregnant women die from carrying it inside them, supposedly for transport?
It's not for nothing that it's called a narcotic.
"Hmm. Drug Master Pyeong-shin."
"I'd like to say something."
"Yes, yes. Your opinion is the most important here."
I looked at the empty seat of the chemist uncle, who couldn't come today.
'Could he already be dead...?'
It's not an unwarranted worry.
Because addiction isn't the only problem.
If you overdose, you die immediately.
And he said he did it three times.
If he was excited while on the drug, his blood vessels would constrict sharply...
Our uncle had gained a lot of weight, spending all his money on food or something as soon as he earned it.
Considering his age and gender, he probably had diabetes, high blood pressure, and high cholesterol...
On top of that, if he took drugs, his heart could stop at any moment, and it wouldn't be surprising.
"You're thinking of using cocaine as a tonic?"
"Yes. Or an aphrodisiac."
"Director, have you heard the term aphrodisiac too?"
"These kinds of stories usually spread even if you try to keep them quiet."
"That..."
I glanced at Lord Jamie for a moment.
He had a questioning look on his face. I apologize in advance.
"Well, that's true. But are all those spreading stories accurate?"
"Huh?"
"You remember Harry the Butcher. At that time, there was also talk that cutting off testicles would improve virility, right?"
"Ah."
Lord Jamie unconsciously bowed his head, then barely managed to raise it again.
Even so, there was nothing he could do about his already flushed face.
And probably...
He might not be able to raise anything other than his head again.
"It only got worse."
"But we have testimonies for this. Not just from randoms... stories I heard directly from the research institute."
"Stories?"
"Yes. Not just the Condom King who isn't here today, but other researchers are also making consistent statements."
Aha.
So my research institute has become a den of drug addicts.
I should send them all to the concentration camp... no, the monastery.
All the patients there would be wronged, but these bastards would be an exception.
If I send them with some money, it would completely cover up the incident with the chef uncle last time, and it would kill two birds with one stone. Good.
"Respected Director, Members of Parliament, Your Grace."
While thinking of sending people to a place where they sell humans, I put on an extremely polite face.
"We have achieved dazzling medical progress over the past year or so. It would have been impossible without everyone here."
"Hmm."
Everyone quieted down at my serious face.
First, I'd buttered them up, so they had no choice.
Although 19th-century London hasn't yet established the advanced discussion culture we think of, fortunately, they are mature enough to listen to words that praise the other party before starting.
"The things we've discovered during that period are too numerous to list one by one. Among them, the issue I want to raise today is... that medicine should never be evaluated in the short term. That was the case with Byeonmmelier, and with Pimmelier. Even bloodletting, when you think about it, we now know it has too many side effects in the long run."
"Hmm..."
"Cocaine is the same. In the short term... yes. It might seem like virility improves. But it's highly likely that it won't be the case after just a few weeks. The energy the Lord has given to humans is inevitably limited. If you squeeze and use it, what do you think will happen!"
"Hmm..."
As I spoke, I recalled the various nicknames attached to me.
Qing Gangster, Joseon Shaman, Gas Operator, Corpse Snatcher, Arsenic Poisoner, Heart Snatcher, Jesus Possessor, Skull Driller, Pyeong-shin, etc...
Upon careful thought, many of these are confusing whether they're insults or not, but they are all impressive nicknames.
Of course, the people here are impressive too...
But that doesn't mean they can outright ignore my words.
I've become too impressive for that.
I know it might seem less impressive coming from my own mouth, but what can I do?
It's the truth.
"Then shall we wait and see?"
"But to confirm that, we need people who can use it consistently..."
"Shall we use it on prisoners?"
"That's too expensive. We have to import it from South America and manufacture it."
"Then let's grow it here."
"And if we confirm it's bad after growing it, what then?"
"We can sell it elsewhere? Whatever it is, isn't it said to be addictive?"
"Aha... That's true. If the unit price is right, there will be plenty of buyers."
They spoke seriously and were taken seriously.
Even so, it's not flowing entirely in the direction I want...
- Kim Tae-pyeong, made an effort to prevent the spread of cocaine.
Wouldn't it be fortunate if only this much remains in history?
It would be great if I could do more, but...
If there's one thing I've realized most since coming to the 19th century, it's that sometimes leaving things as they are is also a method when faced with the inevitable.
If you try too hard to surpass the limits of the era, side effects occur.
In a way, couldn't the premature discovery of cocaine also be a side effect?
'It's better if I can at least roughly grasp where and how this is distributed...'
If I make too much of a fuss and it goes completely underground, there will be no way to stop it, right?
You might think I'm assuming it will definitely be distributed, but I declare here and now:
It will absolutely be distributed.
Don't they say you shouldn't use the word "absolutely" carelessly after living life?
Well, you can use it now.
"Well then, shall we end it here?"
"Not much gain, I see. Has Pyeong-shin's courage diminished?"
"Haha... Let's call it prudence. Isn't it all thanks to Pyeong-shin that we're making so much money now? Moreover... the syphilis matter is huge."
"Indeed, that experiment probably won't take long either. We can commercialize it soon."
"Then it seems we're about to make a fortune again."
"Hahaha."
The gathered members were initially dispersing with somewhat sullen faces, but eventually ended up laughing, haha hoho.
Just look at syphilis alone...
Isn't this truly an enormous thing?
In an era where it's no exaggeration to say all of Europe is steeped in syphilis, a syphilis treatment?
This will definitely make money.
Of course, separate from that, there's another business that could make money.
It would have been inappropriate for me to say it directly in front of those people earlier, so I kept quiet, but...
"Pyeong, speak up. You seem to have thought of something not very good... but tempting."
After the meeting, those remaining in the conference room were the Director, me, Liston, and Blundell.
These four...
I'm not sure about the Director, honestly, but based on everything so far, let's assume he's trustworthy.
Then that concludes that they are all people I can trust.
So I nodded and opened my mouth.
"There are quite a few opium addicts, right?"
"There are. The slums' public security is bad enough as it is... opium addicts don't care about anything."
"I've heard there are some among the upper class too... knowingly or unknowingly."
At my following words, the Director's face became cautious.
Blundell checked the closed door once more, and Liston pricked up his ears to the outside situation.
While wondering if they could hear anything like that, I thought, indeed, they are martial artists.
"No one is there."
"Yes. Below are only our disciples and inpatients."
"Still, just in case, let's lower our voices a bit more."
At the Director's words, I nodded and continued.
Since I lowered my voice more than before, we naturally gathered our heads toward the center of the table.
If someone witnessed this scene, it would look like villains plotting, I thought.
Technically, it's not that, so it felt a bit unfair.
"Because of the impending war with China, even the upper class is refraining from opium, right?"
"That's true... but there are still those who smoke it in pipes. They're keeping it quiet."
"Cocaine... You saw the atmosphere earlier, so you probably know. It will likely be distributed soon."
"Hmm... Hard to deny."
I'm not sure if I should call this fortunate...
But compared to snorting it, the addictiveness would be somewhat lower.
Not that it won't be addictive.
And if taken orally, another problem arises.
'Due to vasoconstriction... their teeth will all rot. Most people don't even brush properly anyway...'
Isn't it a culture where even nobles don't brush?
And on top of that, sprinkle cocaine?
Big trouble, really.
"Those addicts will need treatment."
"Huh? Is there a medicine?"
Surprisingly, there is medicine.
It's literally the whip of love.
In the 21st century, there would be various other methods, but...
Here, who cares?
"Lock them up in a place with beautiful scenery and clean water, and charge money."
"Ah..."
"If you force them not to do it, won't they quit?"
"Will that make money?"
"It will. Especially for upper-class scions... wouldn't it be considered a family disgrace? They believe precious and talented people don't get addicted easily."
"Is that not true?"
"Well... regardless, there are addicted people, aren't there?"
"That's true. Well... buying land in the suburbs isn't a big deal anyway. Originally, there might be land or houses owned by gangs too?"
I'm thinking of creating a rehab center.
A place where we just lock them up, without beating them.
Aiming at nobles, we'll do nice interior design, feed them well, in short, make it luxurious.
'21st-century capitalism has proven something.'
This kind of product sells better the more expensive it is.
And among British Empire nobles, there are plenty who have money to burn.
The more such people are, the more they care about face...
"Charge that much?"
"Yes. But the facilities will be very good."
"Hoo..."
"I'll build it even if I have to use only my own money."
"No, no. I'll invest too. Frankly, have I ever lost money listening to you?"
The Director, Liston, and Blundell all decided to put in money.
If it goes well, I should open it to the others when we open branch number two.
But if that happens, the people supplying the drugs would also be running the rehab center, which seems like a moral hazard...
But honestly, is there any 19th-century rich person without moral hazard?
"Ah, Pyeong. Didn't you say your parents are coming today?"
"Yes, yes. Fortunately, Father Alfred said it's okay for them to stay there."
"That's good, it is. It'll be good for the parents to live with such a successful son."
Anyway, since today is the day my parents are coming, I headed home after just finishing the meeting.
My parents, whom I met after a long time, had somewhat worried expressions.
I knew the reason before even asking.
"People keep calling you a bastard. What's this all about?"
Fuck...