'This is another world... a parallel universe.....'
I was doing my best to maintain a composed expression while internally giving myself a pep talk.
I had no choice.
As I listened to the conversation, I realized that something like pouring urine into someone's mouth was nothing compared to what was being discussed.
These lunatics...
Truly insane...
"But listen. Urine is only stimulating if you recognize it as urine, right? If you just pour it into someone's mouth, it's no different than warm water."
"Well... that's true. But what would the bereaved families say?"
"Isn't it better than burying someone alive? Think about it. If you buried your father, mother, grandfather, or grandmother alive, how could you live with the guilt?"
"Ah... I suppose you're right."
Anyway, these guys considered urine to be no big deal.
It didn't make sense to me at first, but as I listened, I realized it wasn't such a big deal after all.
In fact, I almost felt like shouting, "Just pour the urine already!"
"There was even a doctor who used a red-hot poker to touch sensitive areas. I thought about trying it myself, but... heating a poker requires quite a setup."
"Is that why you didn't do it?"
By now, I had even forgotten the smell emanating from the graves.
A red-hot poker?
Isn't that something used for torture?
"There was someone who came back to life after having their anus burned with it."
"Wait... did they really survive?"
"They died again later. But at least they weren't buried alive."
They even burned someone's anus?
These madmen.
They probably couldn't even defecate before they died.
We call that murder, sir.
"I... see."
Is that better than being buried alive?
Both options are so horrifying that it's hard to compare.
No, actually, I didn't even want to think about it.
Damn it.
"But that method is a bit... It's hard to set up, and it doesn't look good, does it? The bereaved families protested."
"Well... that's true."
Families who loved their deceased so much that they couldn't bear the thought of them being buried alive wouldn't find the sight of a burned anus pleasant.
These lunatics.
How could they even consider such things?
You bastards.
At least they changed their minds, which was a relief.
It's good to know they listened to the protests.
"So, I've been thinking about whether to use this."
As I nodded along, Blundell suddenly pulled something out.
It looked dangerous no matter how you looked at it.
A needle?
No, it was a knife.
Specifically, one designed for stabbing...
Ah, I see.
It also resembled a sharply honed awl.
"What... what is that?"
I couldn't help but think, "If I've done something wrong, just tell me."
Joseph and Alfred had already lost their minds a while ago.
If Blundell stabbed me with that awl, they wouldn't even try to stop him.
That's how horrifying the corpse we had just seen was, and the one the gravedigger had pulled out was equally gruesome.
The body was bloated from decomposition, so that says it all.
"Ah, this is for stabbing the heart."
"What?"
For a moment, I wondered if I had blacked out during the conversation.
Were we discussing how to confirm whether someone was dead or alive?
And now he's talking about stabbing the heart?
What is this, the Brotherhood?
Blundell, are you from Assassin's Creed?
Now that I looked closely, the way he held the knife wasn't normal...
"Think about it. If they were alive, blood would spurt out the moment you stabbed them."
"But... wouldn't that kill them instantly?"
"Isn't that better than being buried alive?"
"Well... I suppose."
"That's why we're putting in so much effort."
"What?"
This guy has no intention of saving anyone, does he?
Was the gravedigger holding that shovel just so he could bash someone's head in if they came back to life?
Terrifying thoughts kept swirling in my head.
Fortunately, Blundell continued after seeing my horrified expression.
"Of course, that alone wasn't enough. As I mentioned earlier, I didn't even try burning the anus with a poker."
He didn't do it because he lacked the equipment, not because he didn't want to, right?
Although it felt like he was changing his mind in real time as he looked at my face, Blundell suddenly shifted to criticizing other reckless doctors.
"You're right about this, aren't you? If the goal is to prevent live burials, this is a perfect method. It ensures they're dead. But that patient from yesterday... is he still alive?"
"Yes. He might survive."
There were mountains of obstacles to overcome, including infections and headaches caused by underlying diseases, but it wasn't impossible for him to survive.
That seemed to be quite a shock.
Well, in an era where the concept of CPR didn't exist, it was understandable.
The idea that someone who had been declared dead could come back to life was unimaginable.
Thinking about it that way, the idea of stabbing the heart to confirm death made sense.
'No, no! Don't get corrupted! This is absolutely wrong!'
But I couldn't shake my head at this point.
That would make it seem like I was giving up, wouldn't it?
It might even reverse the progress I'd made in changing my mindset.
"I've always been worried about premature burials. I could end up like that too, you know. Imagine closing your eyes and opening them to find yourself in a coffin, buried under dirt."
"What if we used a rust bell...?"
Until now, the rust bell had seemed utterly useless.
But after hearing about burning anuses and stabbing hearts, it suddenly felt like a beacon of hope for the era.
Of course, the problem remained.
And it was a serious one.
This was 19th-century London, after all.
"The thing is, suppliers sometimes deliver defective products. When I checked later, the string was broken. Think about it. You'd have to shake the string hard enough to move the dirt... It's not something you can easily test."
"Oh..."
It was too much to expect craftsmanship in this era.
This was the age of greed, after all.
In a time when money was everything, asking someone to make a bell for the possibility that a dead person might still be alive was unrealistic.
The lives of the living workers were already horrifying enough.
"With defective products like that... it's impossible."
"I see. That's true."
"So, I think a doctor should confirm it. We can't let these tragedies continue."
"..."
It was a relief that someone like Blundell existed, even if his primary motivation was probably the fear of being buried alive himself.
Intentions, motives, and outcomes are rarely all good.
But as long as the result is good, that's what matters.
Especially in this godforsaken world.
"Do you have any good ideas?"
"Well... not at the moment... Hmm."
Do they have stethoscopes?
They definitely don't have electrocardiograms.
I hadn't seen anything like that.
If they had such devices, would premature burials even be a problem?
An electrocardiogram would be the most accurate tool.
'Breathing, circulation... That's what's most important. But that's not possible, is it? Observing over time... That's impossible for the average London laborer.'
There are even cases of secret burials because graves are so scarce.
That's why the gravedigger is guarding this place.
It's not just because of the rust bell; there are many people who bury others in existing graves.
But a mortuary?
That's too much to ask.
Funerals are already considered a luxury.
"I'll think about it."
"Good. Don't just help Professor Liston. Your genius ideas are too valuable to be limited to one field."
"I... understand."
Focusing on just one area is not the way to go.
Hearing this, I was reminded that this was indeed the 19th century.
It's not that it wasn't like this before, but academically, it was a different time.
In the 21st century, each field has advanced so much that you have to focus on even the tiniest aspect to become a so-called 'expert.'
Respect for experts seems even more extreme now, which is ironic...
Anyway, the science of this era was so underdeveloped that the presence of a single genius could make a huge difference.
"Well, then... Let's take Colin with us. He seems to be in shock."
"Yes, he's quite sensitive."
"Hmm. But isn't seeing corpses part of the job?"
"Well... that's true."
To be fair, doctors of this era saw an excessive number of corpses.
But still, losing your composure over one corpse isn't a good look for a doctor.
The gravedigger, on the other hand, is doing his job well, isn't he?
"Come on, get up. Stop being dramatic."
"What's the big deal? You're not a noble, are you? Once you're in medical school, you can't expect special treatment. If you had inherited everything, you wouldn't be doing this in the first place."
Well, there was no need to be so harsh.
But men of this era were macho to the core.
Is it hard?
Endure it.
Overcome it.
That kind of attitude was almost... a virtue? Something like that.
"Get up! Stop whining."
"Yes, yes."
It worked.
I don't know how he felt inside, but Colin managed to get up and head toward the carriage.
His legs were shaking, and his face was pale, but he made it.
'Well...
It's not like Joseph or Alfred would fare any better.'
Fortunately, the two of them seemed fine.
"Anyway, thank you for coming with me. It confirmed that this method won't solve the problem."
"Ah..."
"Don't just rely on me. Discuss it with Joseph and Alfred too. Who knows? They might come up with something."
It's like hoping to catch a frog while chasing a cow.
From my perspective, it would be more effective to throw a rock at the frog.
Coincidences only happen when you have some knowledge to begin with.
I'm not saying this because I'm a jerk who looks down on my friends, but it's true.
In the end, the burden of solving this problem fell on me.
This wasn't something I could just ignore.
Premature burials?
A flawed death certification system?
This had to be fixed.
'Hmm...
What should I do?'
Leaning against the foggy window, I continued to ponder as the carriage rattled along.
No one else was speaking either.
It's not like everyone was deep in thought, but the atmosphere was heavy.
The sight at the grave had been that shocking.
'I shouldn't think like that.'
A few days later, as I faced Blundell's atrocities, I recalled the time spent in the carriage.
Doctors of this era were like children left unattended by the river—you couldn't take your eyes off them for a second.
It would be bad enough if they only killed themselves, but they could take others down with them.
"Ah."