'This lunatic...'
I stared at Dr. Robert Liston, who was looking at my arm.
The moment I saw the glint in his eyes, I could already feel it breaking.
But what he was actually targeting was his own arm.
"It'd be better if mine broke instead."
That was a reasonable thought.
Breaking my arm wouldn't accomplish anything.
Honestly, anesthesia is just about turning a gas valve, isn't it?
I'm not trying to downplay anesthesia, but that's just my level of skill.
In other words, I could be replaced at any time.
'If it were surgery, it'd be a different story…'
Since these people don't know how good I am at surgery, it makes sense for Dr. Robert's arm to be the one to break.
'But can this guy even fix a broken arm properly?'
Orthopedics.
It's mostly for people who are strong, but the important thing is that it's not just for strong people.
In fact, many of the students there had much better grades than me.
They make good money.
Why?
Because there are a lot of patients, but it's not an easy job.
I wasn't very confident myself.
'What if he retires for good?'
Even though this guy looks like a butcher, he's still an excellent doctor, right?
Plus, he's on my side.
I can't afford to lose someone like this.
In other words, I can't take the risk.
"Wait, hold on!"
Just then, Dr. Robert Liston picked up a hammer.
What was he planning to do with that?
Smash his own arm.
This lunatic.
Even a loan shark wouldn't smash someone's arm with a hammer.
After just looking at the structure of the upper arm, does he really want to cause that kind of damage?
'Dude… if the humerus breaks wrong, you could tear an artery or a nerve…'
Tear an artery?
Then you die.
Tear a nerve?
Then you can't perform surgery.
"Why not?"
Dr. Robert Liston looked at me with a confused expression.
He even looked a little hurt.
Like, 'I'm not the one hitting you, why are you so scared?'
'Sigh…'
These guys.
I really don't know where to start or what to do…
Anyway, I decided to try a trick.
Faking an illness isn't that hard, right?
The problem is that this is the 19th century, and most symptoms aren't even recognized as illnesses in this world.
For example, symptoms caused by aging aren't even called symptoms.
They're just considered natural changes.
"What if your arm breaks and doesn't heal properly?!"
I blurted out while thinking of excuses in my head.
Dr. Robert Liston looked oddly touched.
"I didn't know you'd worry about me so much."
"Uh…"
Worry?
Well, I guess you could call it that.
Mostly, I was worried about myself, but sure, I was also worried about Dr. Robert Liston.
"Of course! You're like an older brother to me!"
If he misunderstood, it was better to reinforce that misunderstanding.
So I called him "brother."
I made sure to say it loudly so everyone could hear.
Especially the students.
These guys are the closest enemies I have, right?
'With Dr. Robert behind me, what can you guys even do?'
It felt a bit like a mafia vibe, but it was the truth, so there was no other way to put it.
"Hmm. Then what should we do?"
After being moved by my words, Dr. Robert Liston tilted his head in thought.
If we left things like this, we'd end up running an amputation factory starting tomorrow.
The old Dr. Robert might have liked that, but even with the great advancement of anesthesia, he didn't seem too keen on it.
As for me?
No comment.
"We need to come up with an excuse…"
"Breaking an arm is the most certain way, but as you said, it's a bit risky."
"Right. Arms are a bit… yeah."
"Then should we break a leg?"
"No, stop thinking about breaking things…"
If it's a leg, he's probably talking about the femur.
That's directly related to life.
If the bone density is weak enough to break there, it means aging has progressed severely.
It also means the surrounding protective layer, the muscles, have weakened.
"And do you think you could even break it…?"
Of course, Dr. Robert Liston was a robust man in his 30s with strong legs.
Even hitting it with a hammer would only leave a bruise, not break it.
It'd be more of a hammer-breaking show than anything else.
"It'd be difficult. I've broken many arms and legs, but my own… that's tough."
I think I just heard something terrifying, but I decided to ignore it.
"What if we go with an internal medicine condition?"
"Internal medicine…?"
"Yes, internal medicine."
"Ah, my head hurts. Yeah. Thinking too much gives me a headache."
Dr. Robert clutched his head.
It was understandable.
Even though he's a renowned doctor, the treatments he's done so far have been incredibly simple.
If there's a problem with the leg, amputate it. If there's a problem with the arm, amputate it.
Now that he's starting to think deeply, it's no wonder his head hurts.
"Hmm… I should get some treatment."
"What?"
"Ah, I sometimes get these severe headaches. Don't worry too much."
"..."
What kind of treatment is he talking about?
These guys are probably going to do something incredibly… dangerous.
"Well, do you want to come along? It'll take some time. We can think more while we're at it."
"Ah, sure."
The fact that it'll take time made me even more anxious.
I've seen with my own eyes that the more effort these guys put in, the more dangerous it gets.
"Should we try inducing diarrhea?"
"How?"
"Ah."
Even on the way, the conversation didn't stop.
It wasn't easy.
I didn't realize that knowing how diarrhea is induced would be considered advanced knowledge in this era.
I know so little, and yet I know some oddly specific things, which makes it really difficult.
*Clunk.*
Should I be relieved?
Not long after, we met Thomas, a neurologist and internal medicine specialist who was Dr. Robert's primary physician.
'A specialist…'
As soon as I heard the introduction, my anxiety skyrocketed.
It wasn't just because of what I'd heard.
The machine in front of me looked incredibly suspicious.
It was big enough for a person to lie down in, and it looked like it was going to spin.
"You came because of a headache?"
"Yes."
"Well, that's a chronic issue for you."
"But still… this should help, right?"
"That's true. Haha. And who's this? Ah, the famous student I've heard so much about. Don't worry, I have very little prejudice against Asians."
"Yes, thank you."
The two chatted back and forth, and I was introduced as well.
I heard some slightly offensive comments, but that wasn't the important part.
*Creak.*
The important part was that Dr. Robert was now lying inside some kind of machine.
His head was positioned toward the center…
It looked like a torture device.
"You must be seeing this for the first time."
Thomas, seeing my shocked expression, probably thought I was in awe of the latest medical technology.
So, with a proud look, he started explaining nonstop.
"Do you know why headaches occur?"
"..."
Seriously, it could be due to a brain hemorrhage, a brain tumor, or something like that.
If not, there's migraines, cluster headaches…
'This guy probably just has a tension headache…'
A simple acetaminophen (like Tylenol) or a neck massage would probably fix it.
But if that were the case, they wouldn't be using this kind of machine.
"Haha! You're aiming to be a surgeon, so you're not interested in headaches, are you? But listen. If your head hurts too much, you might need surgery."
"Ah, yes. I'll keep that in mind."
Surgery?
Is he talking about brain hemorrhage surgery?
Probably not.
It was likely something much more horrifying.
"The good news is that most cases can be cured with internal medicine treatments like this. Now, why do headaches occur? Like most diseases, it's not something you need to overthink!"
Thomas swung his arms wildly, like a mad scientist.
Actually, he *was* a mad scientist, so I kept my mouth shut.
If you can't beat a madman, it's best to leave him alone.
If you provoke him carelessly, you might end up getting hurt.
"It's because blood pools in the head! But draining blood from the head is painful. That's why the great scientist Erasmus Darwin discovered a method. By using centrifugal force, the blood in the head will flow to the feet."
"Ah."
...
This guy is really insane.
This thing actually spins?
This is madness…
*Whirrr.*
Thomas started the machine.
It began spinning with a loud noise.
Dr. Robert inside looked calm.
He must have done this many times before.
"Back then, the technology wasn't advanced enough to make it spin electrically! People had to spin it manually, and often the centrifugal force wasn't strong enough to cure the patient! Even now, that happens sometimes! But if we can make this machine spin faster one day, we'll be able to cure everyone!"
Thomas had to shout over the noise.
He was proudly spouting absolute nonsense.
'If it spins faster…'
You idiot…
The patient will die.
Look at Dr. Robert now…
He's passed out.
...
His expression is gone, isn't it?
Given his height, there's probably a lot of blood pooling in his feet, and with this madness, how can he possibly endure it?
Of course, if he tried to endure it by doing the Valsalva maneuver—increasing thoracic pressure to prevent blood from flowing out of his head—he might have been able to handle this speed.
But since he completely relaxed from the start, there's no way he could endure it.
"Alright, I'll stop it now. If we spin it too long, the patient might die."
At the word "die," I turned to look at Thomas.
A doctor who has actually killed someone with a centrifuge…
'Is this a parallel universe…?'
Every time I see something like this, I can't help but think this isn't Earth.
*Thud thud thud.*
Just then, a sound like something collapsing was heard, and the machine stopped.
I thought something had gone wrong, but everyone else looked calm.
"Wake up."
"Ugh…"
"How do you feel?"
"Where am I?"
"The treatment room."
"Ah, I had a headache."
I wanted to run away.