Dark-Haired British Doctor Chapter 268

Episode 268 Is it a monastery or a concentration camp? [1]

The club was so well-balanced that even Liston found it impressive.

'Is it unmanned?'

'yes?'

'The center of gravity from the handle to the tip is just right… … to fit the user. It’s hard to get a weapon that’s customized like that after swinging it around for a day or two… … .'

'Really? But for that to be the case… … I'm in perfect health.'

If you hit them with that club occasionally, like when they pray or when they sin, that's fine, but if you hit them all the time…

I feel like I should have become semi-retarded by now.

But the monk in front of me now was too sturdy.

'What are you talking about?'

'No… … Isn't that like beating yourself while repenting?'

'What the… you're talking nonsense. Look at the marks left on that weapon. Of course it's used to beat up other people.'

'Why does a monk beat others?'

'If someone does something wrong, they'll get beaten, right?'

'Is that… legally allowed?'

'It's not like I'm killing anyone, is it?'

'ah.'

Yes, this is the 19th century.

And it's Liston, right?

This is a person who is good at beating people, whether it be with a weapon or something else.

What I'm saying now can't be wrong… … .

“The director is over here.”

“Oh, yes. Thank you.”

“Okay, then have a good time.”

As we walked and talked, we soon found ourselves in the director's office.

Inside the director's office…

It looked quite different from the monastery I had imagined.

'what's this?'

The furniture and the carpet on the floor were so fancy that even a layperson like me could tell that this was a luxury item.

But at the same time, I didn't feel like I was a nouveau riche.

Liston's house is honestly… … really, oh, this is nouveau riche?

But here, it feels like I've come to visit a rich family's house.

Even the bottles of alcohol behind are all of high quality.

“Ah… … I’ve heard a lot about its fame. It’s the Sword Saint Liston, and this one is… … Piyeong-shin, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“That… … yes.”

The feeling becomes even more mysterious when you turn off the spirit by calling it a "young" instead of a "young."

It's obvious that he doesn't know Korean, so it's hard to say he did it on purpose. And since his smiling face is so kind, it's only natural to be suspicious…

“This person is… …the cursed person?”

Anyway, the director looked at us and then turned his head towards the chef.

His expression changed completely, and I thought I was watching some kind of psycho drama.

Even the chef took a step back under the pressure.

But that wasn't an easy task either.

It was because, at some point, a sturdy monk holding a club was sitting behind him.

“Rather than a curse, he’s just someone who has miasma.”

“That miasma is ultimately a curse, isn’t it? You must be a person with many sins.”

“No, no.”

for a moment…….

Why are you doing this… … .

Why is it that I feel so different from the religious people I think of… … .

'Hey, I think the chef is going to die?'

'Right… right?'

Why is the director so casually pulling out such a heavy club?

That's creepy enough, but why are they clapping their hands so hard?

My head is busy trying to figure out the reason, but my heart seems to know.

-Eww!

Actually, from earlier… … .

Did you hear something like a scream coming from somewhere?

I thought it was the sound of the wind in the forest, but after seeing two clubs, my thoughts changed.

“Well, what is it? Doctor Liston, Pi Young-shin. You are both excellent doctors. But medicine alone cannot cure all patients. Illness is caused by sin.”

"that……."

What should I say?

If I say no, will I be right?

I don't think that will happen right away, given my fame and status, but… … .

I had a strong feeling that when I returned to London, I was going to face significant difficulties.

“If it was a minor sin, it could be cured with just the help of doctors, but in the world… … a person with miasma, a poison that spreads everywhere? How serious a sin could he have committed? Welcome. We will take responsibility for this little lamb and ‘correct’ him.”

"that……."

correction?

It seems like it would be murder rather than correction.

No, even if it doesn't kill you, it seems like it would be quite painful.

If the patient really gets better like the abbot said, then I don't know…

'How could that be!'

Where in the world is there a carrier who gets better when he gets hit?

No, is there a disease that gets better when you get it right?

Usually, if you get hit, it gets worse.

Of course, there are some people who seem to be right… … .

We call such people prisoners, not patients!

“Director?”

Liston called the director, not knowing whether he knew my feelings or not.

I'm a commoner these days and I'm building up my reputation pretty quickly, but…

Still, when you say London Liston, or Black Liston, isn't he a person whose fame is well-known throughout Western Europe?

The director answered his call with a serious expression.

It would have been even more so if my reaction had seemed a bit strange to you.

“Yes? You don’t mean you don’t like it here or anything, do you?”

“How could that be?”

“Oh, the expression on the civilian’s face is not so good.”

“I guess that’s because I came by carriage. Haha. Anyway, can I see the correction I’m doing here?”

“Ah… … . That’s good. Haha. At least around London, I think our monastery’s correctional facilities are the best. Hahahaha. Hey, Danny. Let me introduce you.”

“While I’m at it, can I take this friend with me? It would be good to see what kind of treatment he’ll receive.”

“Ahh… … . I see.”

But the director laughed heartily at Liston's subsequent words and sent us out along with Danny, the gangly monk who had first greeted us.

Danny led us the way we came, but then turned sideways about halfway through.

'Brother, what are you going to do?'

'Isn't it possible that I won't hit you?'

'Ah… … . Brother, you don't think that hitting someone will make them better, do you?'

'Hmm? Isn't that obvious? Does that make sense? Doesn't that negate the theory of miasma that we've established so far?'

It looked like it would take quite a while.

I'm not saying this because I'm so crazy, you'd know just by hearing the scream.

Asrai, I can hear it from far away.

I don't think it's this building either.

Well, I guess a sane person wouldn't live in a place where they were tortured.

Anyway, while I had time, I exchanged opinions with Liston.

Fortunately, Liston did not agree with the abbot's instructions.

'Yes, yes! Then what are you going to do, that cook?'

'If you're a fan of the monastery… … you'll have to get it out.'

'aha.'

'I guess I'll have to take it out. I hear a very familiar sound.'

Yeah, this scream… … .

It's not normal.

And I've been used to it for a long time.

As I continued to follow Liston, I came to know exactly what kind of scream a person makes when they get hit.

"eww……."

Looking ahead, I saw a cook being led away by a monk.

Until just a moment ago, you might have been wondering.

Maybe not, but I can't know that.

Anyway, the closer we get, the clearer the screams become.

“Okay… … . That one has tuberculosis, that one has a mental illness.”

By then we had left the building where the abbot was and were faced with two buildings.

The building where the abbot was located, that is, the place where the monks ate, slept, etc., was a place that could not be called shabby to say the least.

First of all, the outer wall was a stone wall built with considerable care, and the inside was also incredibly cozy.

There was a fireplace in each room, the furniture was quite nice, and best of all, the dishes that were occasionally seen were silver.

In comparison, this is… … .

“Where will this guy go?”

“Ah, it’s mental illness, I guess. A disease that causes miasma… … Haha. Isn’t it a scary curse?”

The place where the tuberculosis patients were said to be looked a little better.

There was a person in the yard who was pale and was getting beaten up.

Even so, it would be extremely weak compared to the British, French, and other places… … .

In comparison, places where there are mentally ill patients… … .

'I'd rather be in a London jail… … .'

The building… … .

It's full of holes.

I say this over and over again, but London is a cold country, and it's like this.

If you just lock him up without hitting him, he'll probably die pretty quickly.

“Then shall we look at the mental illness side?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

For someone in charge of such a place, the monk was a very personable person who knew how to smile.

It was the same now, he walked with such a warm smile and banged on the wall of the building.

Then the noise coming from inside was significantly reduced.

'what?'

'The result of the training. It must have been quite harsh… … .'

Even Liston's expression hardened, but the monk laughed and pointed inward.

“These guys are not worth talking to. You have to hit them to make them listen. Fortunately, the ones here now are somewhat rehabilitated, so there won’t be any trouble. Hey! Get inside!”

"eww……."

He put the cook inside with his smiling face still on,

“Come on, come on.”

Called us.

Inside the building that we entered like that… … .

'fu*k… … .'

'This must be the den of miasma.'

It was hell unfolding in this world.

I feel like I'm using the word hell too much in the 19th century…

This is real.

It's to the point where reflection just comes out on its own.

To think that a 19th century hospital was a place of hell… … .

The real hell was right here.

“Huh.”

“Euuuuuuu.”

“Eww!”

“Shut up! This kid’s crazy!”

The first thing that caught my eye was the spacious hallway.

The floor was covered with straw, probably to keep the waste from being easily visible.

21st century kids may not understand English, but I do now.

Anyway, there were doors with bars in between.

There were not just one person trapped inside the door, but several people.

In some rooms, there were people sitting, standing, or lying down with their limbs tied up.

It seemed like he was still wearing the same clothes he had when he came in, and it didn't seem like he had even washed them, let alone changed them.

Even the shit and urine are stuck to the ground, so… … .

Tick tick.

A rat ran between them.

Rustle.

There are bugs flying around too… … .

Squeak.

What the hell, this is surprising.

Then the door opened.

“Ah, it’s mealtime. It’s a shame to give food to these people… … But what can I do? They are all children of the Lord.”

Should I say that I am glad that he even calls me a child of God?

Or should we take issue with the fact that we are doing this to the Lord's children?

As I was thinking about that, a monk came carrying a large pot on a cart and started scooping out the contents with a spatula and throwing them into the room.

“Eat your food, you guys!”

It was while saying things like this.

Nana Liston is also on the verge of panic… … .

“Hee, heeeeek!”

The chef was a no-brainer.

'I'm sorry, this is… … .'

Looking at that sight, I began to wonder if I had brought him here alive when I was planning to kill him.