After finishing his prayer, Robert Liston stood up abruptly. His face was filled with a fierce determination. Although his true intention was to save lives, his appearance suggested otherwise. In any case, Professor Robert grabbed me, who was standing behind him, and pulled me outside.
"Everyone, follow me! Colin, you come too!"
Not just me, but others were also dragged along. Even Colin, who had just pulled out his own tooth and was holding it, was included. Not only that, but Professor Blundell, who was in the middle of a lecture, also came out.
"What on earth are you trying to do?!"
It was understandable. To anyone watching, it was a bit terrifying.
Originally, he was a man with a frightening appearance, but now his eyes were half-rolled back, and he was walking down the corridor holding an iron canister. Inside that canister was nitrous oxide, or laughing gas, with the noble intention of saving lives. However, his face and the way he held the canister made him look like a medieval knight wielding a mace, making everyone want to stop him.
"I'm trying to save lives."
"You look like you're about to kill someone!"
"That's just how my face looks. Shouldn't you be used to it by now?"
"No, no! That's not the point. You're too excited! And that's a patient's room. Are you planning to go in there looking like this?"
"I'm well-dressed."
"No, that's not it."
But it was no use. He was too well-groomed to be called disheveled. His hair was neatly combed, and he was wearing a suit. As for the gown, well, no one was wearing one, so that was that.
'Sigh... This is going to be a long journey.'
Why did I end up wearing a gown? Why did I end up wearing surgical scrubs? It was all because of various incidents. If I continued to dress haphazardly like this, accidents were bound to happen. If someone from outside came in and tried to perform surgery on a patient, it could end in disaster. In an era where surgery and murder were indistinguishable at first glance, this was even more critical.
"Of course..."
My concerns were as meaningless as Blundell's attempts to dissuade him. Since I was being dragged along by Dr. Robert, I had no choice but to follow.
"Patient."
When I came to my senses, I realized we weren't just in any room—we were right in front of a patient.
"Eeek!"
The patient screamed as if they had seen the Grim Reaper. And who could blame them? A giant over 180 cm tall had appeared, wielding what looked like a weapon.
'Hmm.'
Setting that aside, as a skilled surgeon, I noticed not only the patient's face but also their leg. The right foot was rotting away. Looking at the patient's build, I suspected they might be a diabetic. The diagnosis of diabetes itself might have already been made. Why? Surprisingly, diabetes had been recognized as a disease for some time now. Of course, no one had any idea how to treat it, but...
'Diabetic foot... At this stage, we'll have to amputate.'
In any case, it had to be amputated. If it had rotted that much, the infection would soon spread upward. No, the patient might die before that. They could develop sepsis, or with their diabetes, they might die from hyperosmolar hyperglycemic syndrome. It might already be too late, but if we were going to do anything, we had to amputate.
"Why are you so surprised? I haven't even picked up a knife yet."
"No! Is that something a doctor should say?!"
"Then who should say it?"
Everyone was startled just by looking at his face, which seemed to irritate our Professor Robert, making his reaction more aggressive than usual. Anyone watching would think he was here to kill someone.
'If we want to save them, we have to amputate.'
Of course, I knew this man's true intentions, and for the first time in a while, our medical opinions aligned, so I spoke up.
"Patient."
From the patient's perspective, this was a good thing. After all, I, with my fair complexion, would seem less intimidating than the fearsome Dr. Robert. In London at this time, this was a rare occurrence, and it was all thanks to Professor Robert.
"Uh, yes, yes."
The patient looked at me as if I were a savior. Yes, this is it. This is why I became a doctor.
"Your foot, it's rotting away, isn't it?"
"..."
"If we leave it like this... you will die."
"Isn't it just uncomfortable and painful?"
I almost wanted to take back what I said. This reaction was too far from common sense.
Of course, 21st-century South Korea is an exceptionally good environment. The vast majority of the population receives higher education, and there are few places where people follow health guidelines so well. It's probably even better than the United States...
"No. Compare it to when you first came in. The redness has spread further up, hasn't it?"
I barely held back my disgust as I rolled up the patient's pants. The bottom of the pants was already soaked with pus. The sheet underneath was no better.
"How... how did that happen?"
"Didn't you notice me coming to your room every day?"
Of course, they hadn't. That was a lie. Especially in the past few days, I had been busy making gloves, dissecting, and attending parties, so I hadn't set foot in the patient's room. But wasn't what I said true?
Dr. Robert looked more surprised than the patient.
"You came every day?"
"Yes."
I was a man who could lie without batting an eye. I felt no guilt. If it was to save a life... compromising a little conscience was nothing, right?
"Well done. The doctor is right. If we leave it like this, you will die. If the redness spreads further, you will die."
Dr. Robert took my words and explained them to the patient. It was less of an explanation and more of a threat. Was it because they didn't know any better...? Or was it because of his face...? Or maybe both...?
"I'll die"
"Yes, you will die."
"Sigh... but I... the pain"
It had an effect.
Instead of recoiling in horror, the patient hesitated.
I could understand. Surgery performed in a public square was almost like an execution, wasn't it? Not long ago, they even charged money to watch surgeries. It was a rare spectacle...
'It was that painful. But now, that won't be necessary.'
I exchanged a glance with Professor Robert and looked at the gas canister he had brought. Dr. Robert chuckled and lifted the canister with one hand. The patient screamed, thinking he was about to be struck with it, but of course, that didn't happen. No matter how much he looked like a human butcher, his true nature was that of a skilled physician.
"We can use this for anesthesia."
"Anesthesia?"
"We can perform the surgery without pain, that's what it means."
"Huh?"
"Just in case, you should call your family and say your goodbyes."
It was meant as a considerate gesture, in case something went wrong, but it felt more like a gangster's death threat. However, the patient took it as genuine concern and asked someone to call their family.
Meanwhile, Dr. Robert Liston informed others in the hospital about the upcoming surgery. Up to this point, it was no different from usual, so there was no reason for a crowd to gather. But today, there was one significant difference.
- Anesthesia...?
- I don't know who's lying, but... that bastard Robert is going to kill someone.
- Another poor patient is going to suffer.
The reactions weren't exactly enthusiastic. It was the epitome of cynicism. And who could blame them? Hadn't I studied until I understood laughing gas? There had been so many frauds until now, claiming hypnosis and whatnot...
"?"
In any case, I was standing in the square.
Well, it wasn't exactly a square. Since the surgery was arranged so hastily, it wasn't in the city center but in a small square in front of the university. Whether it was because of that or the mention of anesthesia, a huge crowd had gathered.
'Well... let's take it one step at a time...'
It didn't make sense for so many people to gather just to watch someone's flesh being cut open. What if there was an infection? Who would take responsibility? I wanted to shout that, but what could I do? This was the era we lived in. Everyone was filled with anticipation, and if I said anything, stones might come flying at me. Even Professor Robert looked excited.
"Yes?"
In the midst of it all, he called my name, so I responded.
"Bring the knife."
"oh..."
It sounded like something a thug would say, but in this world, it was an immense honor. It was practically an invitation to become his assistant. So, I glanced at the assistant standing behind Dr. Robert.
'This guy?'
I didn't actually say it, but my eyes conveyed the message. Not only that, but among the students standing behind us, there were some who were looking at me with envy.
'Bastard?'
Among them, Colin, who had just pulled out his own tooth, was glaring at me as if he wanted to kill me.
"Yes, I'll bring it!"
I actually liked it. Go ahead, be jealous. None of you who envy me are any good.
'I should sharpen the knife while I'm at it.'
He might get angry if I erased the marks of his experience, but...
'I can't let the patient die.'
I decided to call it a mistake. I could say I accidentally dipped it in chloride of lime while cleaning it after tripping on the way. It was a ridiculous thought, but...
Dr. Robert might look intimidating, but he was a smart man. He wouldn't throw a fit over a knife being cleaned, especially during what could be the world's first attempt at anesthesia.
'Besides... a clean knife will make the surgery go better...'
Even scalpels used in surgery rooms, despite being incredibly sharp and crafted with immense precision, could become slippery from fat and other substances during surgery. But a Liston knife... it would only get better.
The metalworking skills of this era couldn't possibly match those of the 21st century, right?
'Did I clean it too much? It looks brand new.'
As I rubbed the knife, I worried that Dr. Robert might feel disappointed if he saw it. What if he was so disappointed that he decided to chop off my head? But I couldn't just not go, so I ran back.
*Flash.*
Despite being clearly over 30 cm long—definitely longer than a dagger—the knife didn't have a sheath, so I just carried it in my hand as I ran. The sunlight was shining brightly in the square. Until now, it wouldn't have mattered much, as the knife was usually covered in dried blood. But today was different.
"uhh..."
"As expected... Dr. Liston..."
The knife I had polished to a shine reflected a blinding light. Of course, not everyone was pleased by that light.
"No, my knife. My experience..."
Dr. Liston was so shocked he couldn't finish his sentence.
"Wow!"
But when he took the gleaming knife from me, cheers erupted, and Dr. Liston seemed to take it as a good sign. He lifted the knife high above his head, as if he had planned to do so all along, and shouted.
"Now! Today, we will amputate this patient's leg!"
He looked like a Roman gladiator.