Cavities.
Simply put, it means rotten teeth.
It starts with the enamel, the outer surface of the tooth, deteriorating, eventually reaching the part we commonly say needs a root canal, and in severe cases, it can rot the jawbone through the roots.
Of course, that rarely happens in the 21st century.
People brush diligently, and Korean dentists are famous for their skill.
Ah, it's not just about skill; dentistry must have advanced tremendously.
'If these cavities exist... wouldn't life expectancy decrease?'
I think I read or heard about something similar in a paper.
Even if not, just thinking about it makes it seem plausible.
First, if teeth rot, you can't chew food properly, right?
Then, digestion is bound to be poor.
If you're young, your digestive organs might be strong enough to handle it, but aren't the stomachs of older people, like His Majesty the King, weaker?
So, they're already eating unbalanced or insufficient meals, and if they can't digest properly, then this...
'Plus, the bacteria are constantly there.'
There are bacteria and inflammation.
Does anyone spit all that out with saliva?
No.
Ah, well... since the streets of 19th-century London are so filthy, spitting phlegm might even be considered gentlemanly, but that doesn't mean you can always spit it out.
That means dangerous infectious materials are continuously entering the body.
Especially in older people, the coordination between various bodily organs tends to decline, making them more prone to aspiration. If just water going down the wrong pipe is dangerous for the lungs, what happens if bacteria get in?
It could mean suddenly passing away.
'I also heard the risk of diabetes increases.'
This...
Honestly, I don't know why.
I might have read a contradictory article, so I'm not even sure if it's true.
I heard that brushing well three times a day reduces the risk of diabetes.
So, isn't it a reasonable inference that not doing it increases the risk?
"What are you thinking so deeply about? You're making me uneasy."
"I'm London's finest doctor; why should that make you uneasy?"
While I was lost in thought, the Director asked with a genuinely worried expression.
When I retorted, he burst out laughing incredulously.
He found it absurd.
"Haha... think about it. What were all the ideas you've proposed so like?"
"They were rational and logical."
"In hindsight, yes, but how do they seem at first glance? I still see the faces of those dying from wearing arsenic clothes in my dreams. Don't you?"
"Ah, that happened."
"Ah, that happened? You... how can a person be like that?"
The Director told me many other things besides.
Listening to him, it did seem somewhat worrisome.
Well...
Shouldn't overly great progress seem strange to ordinary people?
Moreover, since I've recently gained social status, haven't I been more actively voicing my opinions than before?
Is that why...?
There seem to have been things that could appear even more terrifying.
"I have no shame and stand with integrity."
"Well, what... but remember, this time your subject is His Majesty the King."
"I see. Hmm... What should I do?"
"So, what exactly are you thinking?"
"Wait, you just told me to do something."
"But aren't you refusing to tell me what that 'something' is? It's making me very uneasy."
The Director shook his head from side to side.
Then he looked at the various quacks being moved outside under my orders.
Having just been freed from what was essentially a prison, their expressions were good.
But upon hearing they weren't going home but had to go somewhere to build structures, their faces were gradually darkening.
The Director's focus was precisely on them.
"Look at those fellows... even though they're quacks, they were used to comfortable work, and now you're dragging them off to do labor."
"That will help both these scoundrels and the British Empire."
"That's your opinion."
"My opinion? Isn't it better for these guys to go out under the sun and exercise rather than being locked up here?"
"Why on earth do you consider hardship as exercise?"
"Because it is."
"Ha... So that's why you troubled His Majesty the King so much?"
"That... I didn't know His Majesty would be so weak."
At my words, the Director let out a deep sigh.
I could feel he genuinely wished I wouldn't do something, but that's none of my business.
After all, I'm the King's primary physician.
I didn't get this position through flattery, and I've never flattered him.
There's no need.
- Uh... I'll do as you say.
That man entrusted his health to me, saying he would rely solely on me, but then he keeps doing strange things, you know?
All sorts of lunatics from everywhere insist that regular bloodletting is good, or that he must take some mysterious medicine claiming it's good for health, so I just went and told him not to do it.
Still, he listens well.
Why?
- But... is he really the same person as before?
I...
Besides the rumor about me raising the dead, another rumor circulates.
Soul-Swapper Kim Taepyeong...
Damn it.
I don't know what goes through their minds daily, but anyway, I've been stuck with this nickname.
It's somewhat understandable because, unfortunately, after I performed CPR on that guy, he couldn't receive proper follow-up treatment, and whether it was a pre-existing heart issue or not, his cognitive abilities declined slightly afterward.
The most crucial point is that he himself seems aware that this happened after he spoke ill of me; whenever he sees me, he trembles fearfully, bows his head, and acts all sorts of ways.
- Well, I should trust you. I'll do that.
Such rumors...
If even cursing someone can lead to death and soul replacement, how could anyone dare be disrespectful in front of me?
According to another unsettling rumor, under the orders of the Archbishop of London, they are investigating whether I might be a demon...
But a demon absolutely couldn't attend church every week and worship, right?
If that were the case, it would damage the Church's prestige, so even if they suspect me, they probably can't do much.
Thus, I became the protagonist of a rather unique and simultaneously precarious rumor: being a demon who is also a devout believer.
Humans are creatures of forgetfulness, and 19th-century folks are particularly courageous among them, so I don't know how long this will last, but for now, I'm invincible.
"Alright... What can I say to you? Just don't do anything too horrific."
"Understood. I just have one request for now."
"Another one, besides transporting those people?"
"Yes. Please summon the people in London who perform this treatment."
"Those... why them?"
Ah, in London—no, in 19th-century Europe—dentists are almost equivalent to con artists or torture technicians.
Nowadays, with anesthesia, it's much better...
But even now, treating cavities mostly means extraction; in the era without anesthesia, they just pulled them out.
Probably none of us, including me, have experienced that, but having a tooth pulled can't be painless.
Well, if it's severely rotten, it might be loose...
But if it's loose due to inflammation (not like a baby tooth loosened by the emerging permanent tooth dissolving the root), then the inflammation could make it even more painful.
"I need to investigate something. I want to know the state of London's teeth."
"Ah."
Was it because I was thinking that?
The oral state inside the gaping mouth of the Director in front of me suddenly caught my eye.
It's a mess.
Really...
"No... For someone of his stature, he's quite educated... but he's a 19th-century intellectual."
There's no need to be surprised.
The general medical knowledge we know was only established after the mid-20th century.
Especially, the notion that one should wash properly only spread in Europe after World War I and II.
It might sound terrible to say this, but war hasn't solely had negative impacts on human history.
"Well, that shouldn't be too difficult. But are you going to use them as laborers too?"
"Ah, no. I'll see."
"See...? Why does everything you say sound so frightening?"
"I'm just saying I won't do that unconditionally. Just summon them for now."
"Alright."
The Director, who grumbles even at Liston, was no exception with me.
But lately, since more terrifying rumors about me are circulating than about Liston, he obeyed well.
A bit tsundere?
Or not?
What do you call a character who treats you well out of fear?
I'm not sure, but anyway, the Director used police force and the gang to send over London's famous dentists... that is, people who handle teeth.
'Wow... what's with that guy?'
The appearance of 19th-century people is generally quite proper.
Even if clothes are old, worn, and smelly, the basic forms of attire aren't very diverse.
Plus, it's an era without significant accessories.
Especially for men.
It's an era without wristwatches, so it's natural, but...
One of the guys who appeared before me had a rather striking appearance.
Clatter.
A loud sound accompanied his every step.
It was because he was wearing a necklace...
Actually, calling it a necklace is an understatement; it should be seen as a trophy.
In conservative London, a man wearing a loud necklace is quite a risky thing.
"Greetings! Lord Pyeong! I respect you!"
That guy seemed to be the leader of the group.
I was surprised that over a dozen people had gathered in a short time, and he stood at the front.
Thanks to that, I could see a necklace made of countless, blackened teeth up close.
'Wow... this kinda reminds me of Liston hyungnim's old version.'
You know, he used to not clean his knife to show off his experience and skill.
Compared to that, well...
The tooth necklace seems okay.
Though the fact that they're human teeth, not animal, is a bit unsettling...
"Did everyone in London who practices this come?"
Anyway, since I summoned them, I should ask what I originally intended.
Although another curiosity is arising, making it premature to ask that specific question.
It's fine.
Taking a bit more time won't cause problems.
Actually, isn't it better if quacks have less time?
It means less time for them to cause accidents.
And given my current status and power, it's not enough to cause real trouble.
"Huh? Ah, no. These are the fellows from nearby."
"Huh? There are six... sixteen of you?"
"Ah... There's usually one on every street. There could be hundreds, even thousands more. If you include all the part-timers who do extractions and such."
"Wow. Why are there so many?"
At my question, the man answered with a hint of incredulity.
He was fiddling with his necklace.
"Because there are so many cavities."