Dark-Haired British Doctor Chapter 412

Episode 412: Hell [2]

"Why are you laughing like that? You seem to enjoy seeing the prisoners being punished, don't you?"

Liston chuckled as he saw my smile, feeling happy too.

Looking at it now, it seems like he wanted to laugh but was barely holding back.

By the way, it's not me.

It's weird to enjoy seeing other people suffer.

“No, no.”

"Hey. What's wrong? Admit it. Even you have a heart that's not quite gentlemanly."

“This is a small person, isn’t it?”

“Don’t look at the head… It’s lethal.”

“No, I’m just trying to get Sir Jamie back.”

"huh?"

A '?' appeared on Liston's face as well as everyone else's.

That was understandable.

This situation is a bit strange right now.

If you ask the Duke to do something while the prisoners are suffering to death, you might think that this is a plot for treason.

“Don’t misunderstand.”

“Misunderstanding… In what areas should I not do this…?”

Liston looked back and forth between the prisoners and me.

Indeed, it was the 19th century, and even though a person had just died, they were already turning back.

Scary, 19th century capitalism.

“First, ask for a rope from the ceiling here.”

“Why? Hang me on the spot?”

“No, if you hold on to that and step on it, it’ll be much easier to keep your balance.”

“Oh… indeed, he is a commoner.”

I felt sorry for them so I offered them a slightly better environment.

I don't know how much it will get better, but…

My hope is that if we just attach a strong rope, we won't have to worry about falling to our deaths like we did just now.

Anyway, I resolved the prison situation and continued speaking.

"I won't make it that hard. And how much time? 30 minutes? An hour?"

“That’s why I’m saying that, what I’m saying is.”

“Exercise, exercise.”

“It’s labor… that’s it? Why on earth would Sir Jamie draw water and grind grain?”

“No, that’s not it… Look. What do you think of the people here?”

At my words, Liston and the rest of the group looked around the cell, hell itself, once more.

The people inside looked like they were in hell.

It looks like I'm going to die soon, that's what I'm saying.

Since I also have eyes, I thought, "Oh no."

“Oh, this is a bit off.”

"Yes, Sir Jamie saw this and knew he was telling you to do this. Even you wouldn't let him do it."

“It’s just an experiment.”

"huh?"

"I'll figure out the appropriate level and intensity. You, sir, go hunt down some easy-going people in London who are notorious for being fat."

“No… being fat isn’t a crime, so why…?”

“I’m telling you to get healthy.”

"no……."

“Pulling your hair?”

“I’ll be back soon.”

Liston left the prison with a face that was not convinced in his heart, but in his head.

The rest of the group, including me, didn't plan on staying here for long, so we left the prison afterwards.

Only William Turner was left behind.

“Please draw it well. Make the face a bit vicious. So that it’s unforgettable once you see it.”

“So, like you are now?”

“That… is because of the light.”

“I don’t think that’s necessarily the case.”

There was some noise, but he promised to draw the faces of the culprits who started the fire well.

It was a natural thing to do since I was getting paid for it.

furthermore…….

“Well… it’s an inspiring place. I thought I’d never seen anything this horrific since I saw the palace burn… but this place is even worse.”

He was so inspired that he even drew a prison scene without being asked to do so.

I thought that if I did that, I might be able to get some sympathy for those criminals, but I didn't stop them because it seemed really evil to stop them.

You said you didn't set the fire on purpose, right?

It's just something I did because I was lazy and stupid.

As a result, Britain's national treasure was completely burned down.

Why did you burn the palace when you weren't even the Mongols?

“Ah… Don’t go straight to the hospital, go to the Bronte sisters.”

“Oh, yes.”

Since it was not the time to talk about my in-laws, I hurried to the autobiography vending machine… no, I ran to meet the sisters who would become famous writers in history.

“Uh huh.”

“Get out of the way, get out of the way!”

These days, my carriage is not only used by me, but also by patients.

To be honest, I'm not the type of person who goes out that much, so I felt it was a bit of a waste to let the carriage run wild, and thinking about it, I thought the system where doctors go to patients' homes to see them was inefficient.

Some may ask, "What about the doctor who makes rounds?" But he speaks his mind.

Wang Jin has clear limitations.

If it is a remote medical area, it may be somewhat meaningful as it is difficult to even see a doctor's face, and if the patient is unable to move and there is no one to help, then a house call may be necessary…

The hospital has equipment and other personnel.

Moreover, if the hospital is closed for a visit, the patients coming to the hospital in the meantime are essentially left without a doctor.

'It's an ambulance, this is it… … .'

Anyway, since we're already transporting patients, I can't just sit there and do nothing, right?

So, I decorated the carriage a bit to signal that there was an emergency patient here, so get out of the way.

First, I painted it red and added a green cross to the side.

-It's no use… … .

-No one is stepping aside.

I thought, "Oh no."

Come to think of it, even in South Korea, up until the 90s, people didn't even give way to ambulances or anything like that.

I realized once again that civic consciousness is something that grows very slowly.

But isn't that something you can't give up on?

As a last resort, a Liston sword was mounted on the carriage.

It was a symbol of modern medicine, but it was also a symbol of the dangers that could arise if done wrong.

“Eek.”

“Lee, it’s Liston!”

The effect is truly amazing, as you can see now.

Everyone is impatient and can't get out of the way.

Haha.

Actually, I need to take that apart and put it back together, but I can't do that because it's already welded.

What I mean is, I'm not intentionally running around like I'm in an emergency.

"oh."

Anyway, we arrived at the Bronte sisters' house.

They used to live in a really shitty neighborhood, but they moved house thanks to my sponsorship.

That doesn't mean I moved to a very good place.

It's not because I don't have money or because I feel sorry for it.

'What if I lose my literary talent?'

That's because I'm afraid of the butterfly effect.

Charlotte Brontë will write Jane Eyre, and Emily Brontë will write Wuthering Heights, but it's not because of me?

He is a traitor of all time.

Oh… … I have another younger sister, and I heard she writes too.

Unfortunately, I don't know the name, so I don't know what to write, but since my blood isn't going anywhere, I think I'll write something pretty good.

"hmm."

So I stood in front of a house that was neither good nor bad and knocked on the door.

Because there was a sign on the door saying that this was the house I was sponsoring, the surrounding area was both quiet and clean.

Of course, just because you put up a sign doesn't mean they won't attack the house where you live alone, so the role of my subordinates who patrol regularly is no small matter.

Certainly, I still feel that Britain is a world where the fist is much closer to the law.

“Oh, you’re here? Without even calling!”

As the door opened, Charlotte greeted me.

Strictly speaking, he is the same age as me, but his attitude is quite polite.

It can't be helped because I'm already a big shot and this guy still has a long way to go to succeed…

“Uh, I have a favor to ask.”

“Please?”

“It’s not that difficult… I’m trying to commission you to write. Are you still writing?”

"Yes? Of course! We all write! Come on, guys!"

The child's father is not present during the day.

I wasn't dragged anywhere, I gave him the job.

It's quite comfortable, but it's a place that pays a lot.

Rather than saying anything else, I said it to tell the kids not to beat up.

Of course, I told him that if he did, then his father would get hit too.

Oh, and I told them to feed the kids as much as they want.

'They're crazy.'

Isn't it the heart of a parent to not spare any effort in feeding their child even if they don't have money?

Especially those who grew up in South Korea will all agree…

Not England.

Strangely, when it comes to food, people seem to get weird and sometimes they serve things that are absolutely inedible.

The problem doesn't stop there, they practice discipline that borders on child abuse, including restricting food intake.

To build patience or something… … .

'What are we supposed to do if we don't even give them food in a time when all the children are dying?'

It's surprising that the descriptions in <Jane Eyre> that I read as a child were not exaggerated at all.

It's not just at home that they're being beaten, but even more so in places like churches, where they're still stuck in medieval religious doctrines.

On that topic, they say they are doing relief work, but the kids are getting ripped off… … .

Our Brontë sisters' father was also an Anglican priest, so he could be considered a leading figure in child abuse, but I gave him another job.

While doing so, he secretly asked me to introduce him to someone else to replace his late wife, but he said that his love was so real that he didn't even look at her.

It means he's not a bad person.

That's why it's even more amazing.

“Oh, eat some of this. It’s meat and bread. I’ll grill the meat later… Kids, are you hungry?”

“I’m not starving, but I’m hungry!”

“Wow!”

“Ugh…….”

“Ugh…….”

In addition to the three sisters, a boy is also rushing to buy bread.

I told him to feed him enough, but it seems he didn't feed him enough, saying something about home education.

Now that I look at it, all four of them are dry.

‘No… … It’s not like I’ve never lost a child… … .’

In some ways, there is no one here more unfortunate than my father.

My first and second daughters both died at the age of 11 and 10, and my wife also died, so what… … .

Of course, it is common for people in this era to lose one or two children, but it is difficult to imagine how he must have felt with modern sensibilities.

And yet, like this… … .

Tsk.

“Let’s talk after you’ve finished eating.”

“Oh, yes.”

I looked after the world while the children ate.

Still, Charlotte was getting quite old now, so it seemed like she was being kept pretty clean and well.

The furniture has also been completely replaced, so it is almost new or in good condition.

'I guess I'll have to send someone over periodically to feed them myself.'

It's true that there isn't no food.

It's there, but you can't eat it.

Crazy guy.

Anyway, I decided to get to the point since I didn't come here to badmouth my father.

“Well… I mean, I was hoping you’d write something like a biography about me.”

“Already?”

“You’re young.”

"I'm writing slowly. Slowly. I'm a little worried. What will people think of it later?"

I looked around as I said that.

I said that because I was not old enough to not know about Joseon shamans.

I even thought that perhaps there might be an Asian witch doctor in Jane Eyre or Wuthering Heights.

Oh, no.