Blundell was a chatterbox.
No, perhaps it's better to say he was a very curious person.
"Sigh."
Anyway, thanks to him, I had to stay up all night.
Not because of a patient, nor because I was out having fun, but because I stayed up all night talking to that man.
What on earth is going on here?
"Huff."
By the time I came to my senses, I realized I had already sighed multiple times.
Perhaps that's why it seemed like a sign of something.
"H... What's wrong? Am I... dying?"
A patient who had literally come back from the dead was blinking at me, looking genuinely anxious.
Well, it was understandable.
It had been a truly harrowing day.
Or had it been more than a day?
Anyway, after suffering from a headache, getting blood drawn, and fainting, they had almost buried me in a coffin.
Now that I finally felt alive again, it wasn't unreasonable for me to look like this.
"Ah, no. You've passed the critical point. Please don't worry too much, patient."
If it had been someone else, they might have said something strange, but who am I?
I'm known for being a kind doctor, after all.
I've even been praised on the hospital's compliment board.
Some might say, 'Shouldn't all doctors be kind?' But back then, I was a resident.
Being kind in such a hectic environment, where I practically lived at the hospital, is proof of my character, don't you think?
"Ah... Thank you."
"Yes. Oh, right. If you happen to see Dr. Zemel, tell him your headache is gone now."
"Huh? Ah, yes, yes."
"But, um... Are you still in pain?"
Of course, it wasn't just about being kind.
Our hospital is one of the best in the country, after all.
Being the best in Korea means that, in terms of clinical skills, we're practically world-class.
So, what did I do?
I recorded my consultations and gave feedback.
It felt like a public execution, but in the end, it helped me improve.
"Ah... It still hurts a bit..."
"Well, keep it a secret from Zemel. You'll die again if he finds out."
"Yes, yes."
The patient literally shuddered.
A flash of fear crossed their eyes, and I wondered if this was okay.
'PTSD... It's bound to happen.'
How could it not?
Good heavens... Being buried alive in a coffin.
If it hadn't been for me, they would have been covered in dirt for good.
Imagine hearing the sound of sand pouring down while trapped inside.
It's enough to drive anyone mad.
"Let's address the headache together for now. I won't draw any blood, so don't worry."
"Yes."
That aside, the patient definitely looked better than yesterday.
If the infection progresses, who knows what might happen...
But still...
The fact that they're better than yesterday is what matters.
They've got some color back, and all.
Maybe it's because they're young, but their bone marrow function seems to be excellent.
"You need to eat well, too. For now, avoid heavy meals. I'll have some soup brought over."
"Ah... Thank you. Thank you."
Still, eating well is crucial.
The energy required to produce blood is no joke.
And no matter how careful I was, it's not like only one or two germs got in.
The germs Zemel introduced are too horrifying to even think about, so we need to be prepared to fight.
Nutrition is key, that's what I'm saying.
It's not for nothing that mothers always say you need to eat well to get better.
"I'll come back later, so rest up. Just be careful around Zemel for now."
"Yes, yes."
It would be safer to stay, but I can't stay here forever, can I?
So, I left the room and headed to the lecture hall.
Having stayed up all night, I felt a bit dizzy.
The only saving grace was that my nutritional status is far better than the average for this era.
Being an Asian with a larger build than the average Londoner is probably thanks to that.
And compared to my previous life, where I was well into my 30s, I'm much younger now.
Age really is a cheat code in medicine.
"Huh?"
As I stumbled into the lecture hall in a daze, I noticed it was unusually noisy.
Looking at the clock, it was almost time for class to start, but it was still chaotic.
"What's going on?"
"Oh. Colin didn't show up."
In situations like this, it's best to just ask.
So, I asked Joseph and Alfred.
Both of them looked like they had slept like babies last night, which annoyed me, but what can you do?
You can't expect students to have the same mindset as a doctor.
It's only after seeing patients that you start to think like one.
"Class hasn't started yet. Isn't it possible he's just not coming?"
"Uh... Well, he didn't go home last night."
"Huh...? Seriously? Isn't he a noble?"
"Not a high-ranking noble, but he's from a wealthy family. Something like this shouldn't happen."
"Huh."
Anyway, when I asked half-heartedly, I got an unexpected answer.
Well, not entirely unexpected.
To be honest, that guy's eyes looked a bit off yesterday.
I thought he'd just pick a fight with me, but maybe he went out drinking instead.
If that's the case, he's kinder than I thought.
A racist but with a good heart?
It doesn't make much sense, but in this era, it's entirely possible.
There's even a term for it in the 21st century: benevolent racists.
"Professor Blundell just got a call from the cemetery."
"Huh? Is he dead?"
Did he commit suicide out of despair?
Even if he was a racist, I'd feel bad if that happened.
Why would he die? Maybe he went to dig up graves, thinking he could do what we did...
"Well..."
"Ah... Did he try to bring someone back to life? But how would he know which grave has someone who isn't really dead?"
"Exactly."
The saying "a sparrow trying to follow a stork ends up tearing its legs" came to mind.
Though it's not exactly a sparrow and a stork in this case.
It's not bragging, but I have the knowledge accumulated by humanity over hundreds of years.
And recently, the rate of accumulation has increased hundreds of times, with accuracy that's incomparable.
'Poor kid.'
As I was about to click my tongue in pity, someone approached.
It was a very familiar tone.
It wasn't Robert Liston.
Surprisingly, it was Blundell.
"Dr. Pyeong."
He even called me "Doctor."
Well, the conversation we had yesterday was quite something.
It mostly felt like I was teaching him, though he probably didn't feel that way.
He likely thought of it as a conversation with a genius that was incredibly helpful.
Anyway, perhaps that's why Blundell, despite having stayed up all night himself, smiled and continued.
"Shall we go together? There's no particular reason, but I have something to discuss on the way."
"Ah... Yes. Can these two come along as well?"
As we continued our conversation, Colin's lackeys started looking at us with confusion.
Me.
Just Robert Liston alone would have been intimidating enough, but with Blundell joining in, they must have been sweating bullets.
Honestly, this was a complete stroke of luck. Blundell, overshadowed by Robert Liston, was no pushover either.
He was a leading figure in obstetrics and gynecology, after all.
In this era, that's almost synonymous with being a master of killing people, but still...
He had influence, that's what I'm saying.
"Ah, sure. Why not? Oh, these two were with you yesterday, weren't they?"
"Yes, Professor."
"Then let's go."
Having someone like that call me over, and even say he had something important to discuss, how do you think I felt?
Gulp.
The sound of someone swallowing hard could be heard even here.
It was understandable.
Colin had the background to rise through the ranks, but would he really take his lackeys along?
Aren't they just sycophants?
But switching sides now would be difficult.
I'm open to helping humanity, but for them, it's a tough decision.
Clatter.
Anyway, we got into the carriage.
It was a bit different from the one prepared by Alfred's father.
It was bigger, but somehow...
Shabby, I guess?
It was so shaky that I might bite my tongue if I wasn't careful.
I couldn't tell if I was riding in a carriage or on a horse.
"So, the important matter I wanted to discuss..."
Blundell, however, had no trouble speaking.
He must be used to riding in these.
In contrast, I had to focus hard to keep my balance.
"Yes."
"Actually...
There's an opinion that incidents like this patient's case... will become quite common."
"Ah... Yes."
I had heard this from Alfred.
But hearing it from someone of higher social status gave it a different weight.
It felt...
More credible, I guess.
Of course, I had already thought this might happen.
Burying people without proper verification? Unthinkable.
"A while ago... there was an investigation at a cemetery near London. It was conducted in absolute secrecy...
G..."
The mention of secrecy only piqued my interest further.
Not just me, but everyone else was all ears too.
"When we examined the coffins containing unclaimed bodies, we found many scratch marks."
"On the outside?"
"No, on the inside."
"Ah."
Scratches from the inside.
What could that mean?
It could only mean one thing: they were buried alive and struggled to get out.
"Moreover, the corpses' fingernails were all torn off, and their fingers were often broken."
"Ah...."
"So, we came up with a solution: the Rust Bell."
"Rust Bell...?"
What's that?
Seeing my confused expression, Blundell naturally continued.
"Think of it simply as a bell."
"A bell...?"
"We attach a string to the bell and place it inside the coffin. If someone wakes up inside, they can ring it..."
"It was invented very recently."
"Ah... That's a good idea, isn't it?"
Yes.
Ringing a bell is better than clawing at the coffin, right?
As I was thinking that, Blundell sighed.
It seemed things weren't going as planned.
Otherwise, why would he make that face?
"Now, because of that...
Sigh."
Blundell couldn't continue and instead pointed outside the carriage.
The cheap carriage didn't even have glass windows.
It was just wide open, which made it easier to see outside.
Even the best glass of this era had a slight haze due to impurities.
"Let's go see. Colin seems to be really shocked."
"Shocked?"
"Yes. He heard the bell ringing and had the coffin dug up..."
"Hmm."
I couldn't quite imagine it.
Was there someone alive inside?
Then isn't that what we wanted?
Why is he shocked?
Is he an idiot?
As I was pondering this, a foul smell hit me.
It was much worse than yesterday.
"Ugh."
Even the gravedigger was sighing.
If someone like him was reacting this way, the smell must be unbearable.
Well, it shouldn't be normal, should it?
That would be hell.
As I got closer, I saw Colin sitting on the ground, trembling.
Blundell patted his shoulder briefly and asked the gravedigger.
"Where's the coffin?"
"Ah, over there... Can't we just bury it again quickly?"
"This isn't the time for that. There's a problem, isn't there!"
"Yes, yes. Sorry."
The atmosphere was tense.