"You said it's an old and insignificant gas, right?"
I barely managed to suppress the urge to smack his head with the long rubber lump on the table.
Well, isn't this guy a chemist?
He's not a doctor, after all.
'Old?'
Yet, I couldn't erase this thought from my mind.
Old.
Doesn't that mean it's been around for at least several years?
And after creating it, no one thought to use it as an anesthetic?
'This place it's definitely not the Earth I came from.'
It can't be.
The people from my Earth weren't this stupid.
"Don't think too much about it. Laughing gas if you get too into it, it can mess you up. It's just for parties. Besides, making it without proper equipment is difficult anyway"
While I was in shock, the chemist rambled on with his nonsense.
No.
Wait.
Calling it nonsense might be a bit unfair.
It's true that if you get addicted to that gas, it probably wouldn't be good.
'It might leave long-term side effects.'
Isn't that the kind of rumor that surrounds anesthetics?
To be honest, it's not entirely a rumor.
There are reports that older versions of anesthetics had some effects on the brain.
I'm not sure if this gas is like that, but.
It's definitely worse than what I used to use.
"No, that's not what I meant. I tried it yesterday."
"What do you mean 'no'? If you tried it yesterday, then it's even more so. You seem to be really into it. A young person like you shouldn't be like this. Wait, you're not even that young. How old are you?"
The habit of underestimating the age of Asians wasn't limited to the 21st century, and this guy also made a comment about my age.
Of course, this could be advantageous at times.
It was perfect for being called a genius.
Honestly, even I look like a kid compared to Joseph or Alfred.
"I'm 15."
"What? Really?"
"Yes."
"No, how come you look so young even though you've eaten enough?"
"Well that's just how I am. Anyway, that's not the point. Do you know about nitrous oxide?"
"Of course, I know."
If I left it at that, it was clear that we'd just keep talking nonsense.
So, I asked again.
Perhaps my face looked desperate, as the chemist nodded.
Though he still looked indifferent, it was better than before.
"When was it discovered?"
"Hmm when was it? I think it was in the 1700s."
"What?"
"Why? Didn't I say it's an old gas? It's nothing special. If you inhale it, you feel good that's all. It's used for parties, so if you have the manufacturing capability, it can be profitable. But now, everyone makes too much of it."
I was momentarily stunned by the mention of the 1700s.
I knew it was old, but I thought it was just a few years old.
Wait, I didn't expect it to be several decades old.
If it's been around that long, shouldn't someone have tried using it as an anesthetic instead of just for parties?
"So is it hard to get separately?"
"You're really eager to try it. I can't get it for you for that reason."
"No, that's not what I meant."
"What do you mean 'no'? I was desperate when I first tried it too. But you'll get used to it."
"Ugh."
This guy.
Should I just smack him with the rubber?
Wait, why is the rubber so big?
It's like they made a club instead of a condom.
Is he really capable?
"That's not it When I tried it yesterday, I didn't feel any pain."
"You don't just not feel pain. You don't feel anything. It's a harmful gas. You shouldn't think about working while inhaling it. It's really just for parties."
Oh.
So, he knows it numbs pain?
But he never thought to use it as an anesthetic.
Well that's possible. That's possible.
"Since I'm a medical student, I thought of something other than parties."
"What do you mean?"
"Couldn't it be used as an anesthetic? That's what I thought."
"Anesthetic? Hmm"
At my words, the chemist stroked his chin and fell into deep thought.
I'm not sure if this is something worth pondering so deeply, but since I'm the one in a hurry, not him, I waited.
It took longer than I expected, and I was getting annoyed, but the answer he finally gave was even more frustrating.
"Someone did suggest that."
"Oh, really?"
"Humphry Davy. He's actually a professor I know. I studied under him. He's a pretty outstanding chemist."
"You even know him? Then can you introduce me?"
"He's dead. Last year."
"Oh."
He's dead.
Why do geniuses die so young?
I hope I'm not destined to die young just because I was born in this era.
I should be.
"Then, did he publish a paper on it?"
"He did. In 1800, I think."
"What? That long ago?"
"Yeah. It's been 30 years now. Anyway he did talk about it, but no one was really interested."
"Hmm Have any doctors tried experimenting with it?"
I had a bad feeling.
If a paper was published in 1800, it's hard to believe that no doctors in this era have tried using it.
Aren't they the kind of people who are obsessed with experimentation?
Just look at Dr. Robert Liston—he even created the Liston knife and walked around with it.
'Maybe it can control pain enough to smack someone with a club, but not enough for surgery.'
As I looked at him with a worried expression, the chemist just shrugged.
"I don't know of any other papers on it. I'm not sure."
"Hmm Then I'd like to try experimenting with it."
I started imagining the experiment in my head.
I'd have to start with animal testing.
Have them inhale it, perform simple surgeries and procedures, and if it seems to work, find volunteers who need surgery and try it on them.
Wouldn't that work?
In the 21st century, I'd have to go through IRB (Institutional Review Board) reviews and other complicated procedures, but in this era, such processes probably don't exist, so I could do it much faster.
"Experiment Hmm. You're not just trying to get high, are you?"
"No, I'm serious. If we can use it as an anesthetic during surgery, wouldn't that be great?"
"Well, that's true. But do you really think it'll work? If anesthesia were that easy everyone would've done it already. You might even be called a fraud."
It wasn't without reason that he mentioned fraud.
Last year, wasn't it?
Dr. Robert Liston almost killed someone, and it turned out that guy was a fraud.
He claimed to use hypnosis for anesthesia or some nonsense.
He should've just killed him.
"I just want to try experimenting with it. I'm not looking for any big rewards or anything."
"Hmm... Well, if that's your intention... wait a moment."
"What, you have it here?"
"Do you think research is easy?"
The chemist pointed to the black rubber lump on the table with a grumpy face.
If his goal is to make condoms, the product he's offering now is far from it.
How could that possibly work?
Just the thought of covering something with that is horrifying.
"You'll build up too much stress doing this."
"Yes, yes. I understand."
"I'm giving you something precious. Understand?"
"Yes, yes. Thank you."
"You'll have to pay me back later. From what I see, the boss isn't too harsh so you'll get your share too."
"Yes."
He sure talks a lot.
And he seems to have a lot of complaints.
But thankfully, despite all his grumbling, he brought out the item.
It wasn't a large gas canister like the one I saw yesterday.
It was a small one.
"How much is in here?"
"How much? Hmm. Enough for a few days if you're using it alone."
"A few days"
"I inhale it once or twice a day when I'm stressed."
"No, how many days exactly?"
"You're really pushy. About ten times, I guess."
A scientist using vague terms like "a few days" and "once or twice"
The 19th century is definitely a distant era.
It's like a time that's almost there but not quite.
"Is that laughing gas?"
"You were really excited yesterday. You kept hitting Colin."
Anyway, when I brought out the gas canister, Joseph and Alfred started teasing me.
'You guys a great advancement in medicine might happen today.'
I wanted to say that, but.
It sounded too pretentious.
So, I held back.
After all, I could just try the experiment, right?
I even got a paper from the chemist.
A paper written by Professor Humphry Davy in 1800.
Since it's such an old paper, it's fragile, and the content seems valuable, so I treated it like a treasure.
"Drive the carriage slowly, please."
"Yes, yes. You need to inhale the gas."
"Hahaha."
The brats teased me even more, seeing me like that.
I thought, 'Just wait and see,' while being careful not to damage the paper as I read it in the moving carriage.
Most of it was useless information.
But there was something I was looking for.
Experiments they did test it on people, right? Painlessness, delusions, anesthesia, respiratory arrest...Hmm. The fourth stage, respiratory arrest, how does that work?
'Wait... Wow, someone died?'
It was definitely a wild era.
Someone died during the experiment.
And yet, he could still work as a professor.
For a moment, I was shocked and stared out the window.
"Hey, give me my money!"
"Get lost!"
At that moment, a pickpocket was running away.
Behind him, black smoke was rising.
Further back, a dark river flowed.
Looking at that, I suddenly thought,
'Well... if you experiment on people, you might end up killing someone.'
This is the 19th century, after all.
The apocalypse.
Rumble.
Meanwhile, the carriage stopped in front of the medical school again.
I took a deep breath, left the paper in its place, and carried only the gas canister to Dr. Robert Liston.
"Huff Come in."
He had just finished a murder—no, a surgery—and was taking deep breaths.
The red blood splattered on his face was striking.
For a moment, I wanted to run away, but there was no opportunity.
"What's that?"
He asked.
So, I had to answer.
"Laughing gas."
"You had fun yesterday, huh? But be careful. You have a great responsibility in advancing medicine. Don't waste your talent on something like laughing gas."
"No, that's not it...Yesterday, I accidentally hit Colin, didn't I?"
"Ah, what exactly happened? He couldn't even come to school today."
"Oh."
So, I hit him that hard.
And he didn't even realize it.
Suddenly, hope surged within me.
"I don't remember it well, but...one thing is certain: Colin didn't feel any pain when I hit him."
"That's how laughing gas works."
"Then couldn't we use this during surgeries?"
"Huh?"