Dark-Haired British Doctor Chapter 43

Episode 43: A Strange Sound [2]

okay.

No matter what, it's like that.

Huh? But still, there's no way you'd call someone who lived in the 19th century dead and give them a death sentence…

'It shouldn't exist. It shouldn't exist.'

Without realizing it, I remembered what happened earlier.

Coming to London in the 19th century, I guess, has made many unforgettable memories.

Memories related to people are usually good, but memories related to medicine are usually not so good.

No, it wasn't that bad, it was horrible.

-To cure a headache, you have to drain blood!

Maybe it was because it was so horrible, but it was also slightly distorted.

-Come to work, you punk!

In the flashback, Dr. Jemel had the face of Dr. Robert Liston for some reason.

First he drew blood from his ankles, then from his arms, then from his forehead, and finally he used a goose feather to make his nose bleed.

That son of a bitch.

The patient's complexion gradually became paler.

The headache wasn't that important anymore.

What good is a headache when you're losing blood and going into hypovolemic shock?

The only good thing was that the artery couldn't be cut due to lack of skill and knowledge.

Bleeding from veins or capillaries may stop once the bleeding reaches a level that prevents blood pressure from being controlled.

'Then it will look like you are dead.'

Will the diagnosis of death be easy?

There was no way that could happen.

Medical knowledge is needed to save someone's life, but it is also needed to declare someone dead.

“Hey, what are you thinking so deeply about?”

“Do you know the person who was taken away?”

As I was looking towards the entrance that had just opened and closed, that is, the entrance leading to the tomb, Joseph and Alfred called out to me.

The two still had faces that looked hungry for learning.

His gaze was wandering between me and the arm he had been holding just a moment ago.

Well, it couldn't be helped.

Anyone with a brain will know how important and precious the knowledge you are learning now is.

“No, that’s not it… … I think it moved.”

"huh?"

“Move? I said you were dead.”

“I must be mistaken.”

“I guess so.”

“If you look at it that way… … .”

Joseph nodded to my words, but Alfred's reaction was somewhat strange.

So I looked at the senior together with Joseph.

He had a look on his face as if he was asking for an explanation.

Alfred didn't hesitate much, perhaps because he came from a family that had become wealthy through hard work rather than from a family of snobbery.

“You guys… haven’t you heard?”

"what?"

“What?”

“Ah… … You’re from Upton. Are there still many places there that hold funerals the old-fashioned way?”

"huh?"

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Still, something just didn't click.

So, while I was still staring blankly, Alfred continued speaking.

“Here, there are so many people who don’t even have money to hold a funeral.”

“Ah… … That’s… … I guess so.”

okay.

A funeral.

I thought about the crowds of people I had passed while riding in the carriage.

The quality of life for farmers in the countryside would have been much better.

Life here seemed little different from hell.

If it's like that when you're alive, what will it be like when you're dead?

“So just bury him. You can bury him in someone else’s grave. At least that guy got some money… … But he’ll be buried in a communal cemetery.”

“That’s… … Why is that?”

“Actually, this is just a rumor. Most people ignore it… … No matter how much I think about it, it’s just strange.”

Alfred had the look of a conspiracy theorist from an American documentary.

Actually, it wasn't that frustrating since the atmosphere seemed like it was one where people would talk about conspiracy theories.

Anyway, when I came to my senses, I was already in a corner of the dissection lab.

That's why Alfred led the two of us here.

Among the rest of the group, there were some who seemed curious about what we were talking about, but no one came near us, perhaps because Colin hated it so much.

“Do you know Frankenstein? It’s a novel.”

The name of the novel that popped out from the corner of the dissection room, with corpses lying around, was Frankenstein.

I wiped away the goosebumps that had appeared on my forearm.

On the other hand, Joseph looked completely clueless.

"I don't know."

“I have heard of it.”

I didn't say I read it either.

I didn't read it as a novel, I read it as a Junji Ito manga.

It may sound like an excuse, but it was nearly impossible to gain general knowledge while studying medicine.

“That’s a story about reviving a corpse by running electricity through it… … It’s not a story that came out of nowhere. There are constant rumors in the London cemetery about sounds coming from graves. It’s said that dead people are coming back to life.”

“Hey. Hey. Does that make sense?”

At his senior's words, Joseph's face became irritated and he waved his hands around.

But he seemed scared as he kept looking at the corpses.

That was understandable.

We talk about science on the street, but when you dig into the truth, you find that the lack of knowledge is still filled with mystery.

But I couldn't help but be different.

It felt like something I had been doubting had suddenly been revealed.

“You mean… you buried a living person?”

“No one says that. They say that dead people move. But I think… … I feel like that’s the case. It doesn’t make sense for someone who isn’t even Jesus to come back to life after dying.”

“That’s right. And… … that guy earlier… … .”

“You said it seemed to move? Then it’s more likely.”

“Shall I follow you? It’s a practical training session… … You can come at night and do it.”

Alfred and I had already started walking.

It was not a door leading to a tomb.

Those people earlier, that is, the bereaved family members, walked while pulling a cart.

I said that walking down that road dressed like Nana now would be a kind of suicide.

It might be different if the professor was with them, but if the three of them went like this, it was obvious that they would get robbed many times.

“You’re coming here at night?”

Unlike us who had already started to move, Joseph looked visibly frightened.

Of all people, I just heard that he was Frankenstein, a corpse that came back to life.

'This is unexpected.'

I thought you were fearless.

The zombie thing looked scary.

It was okay.

Because there is no such thing.

“You can do it with the lights on.”

“No… … I… … .”

“Why, are you scared? Pray.”

“No, that’s not it… … .”

“Let’s go for now. What if someone alive asks?”

“That. Ha.”

Joseph followed me out with a sigh, perhaps feeling at a loss for words because of my assertive stance.

“Oh, are you leaving early today?”

The coachman saw us and greeted us warmly.

Isn't leaving work early always a good thing?

Sorry, I had to say that wasn't the case.

“In the grave… …? No, why there?”

It wasn't just that, it seemed like it was a very unpleasant thing to say.

The coachman, who had seemed confident even in the dangerous-looking back alley, asked with a look of disgust on his face.

He was asking me with eyes that said, please tell me it was a joke.

'If I say I'm going to stop the living from burying me… … that won't work, right?'

On this point, Alfred, Joseph, and I were all in agreement.

Doesn't it look a little strange no matter how you look at it?

“Because it’s the anniversary of someone I know.”

“No, did you know anyone in London? But there… … that… … .”

So Joseph took up the gun.

It'd be a bit weird if I told you that I know someone.

Even if Alfred were there, it would be strange.

People hang out together, but it's a bit strange if you know someone who is buried in a communal cemetery and not your family's cemetery.

“I see. That… … Um. Ah. This is it. I can’t not go.”

The coachman kept grumbling as he drove the carriage, even though it was the anniversary of someone he knew.

Honestly, I thought it was a bit over the top.

tomb.

I know it may be a bit hesitant, but I've been to a lot of cemeteries.

“Oh.”

“What is this… … .”

“What could it be, the smell of a rotting corpse?”

I took back what I said about going there a lot.

For a moment I forgot that this was 19th century London.

It's a place that shows you more than you can imagine… … It's that kind of place.

“I buried it in the ground, but why on earth… … .”

“Well, the gravediggers will know.”

“Have you never asked?”

“You’re so unlucky that you’re hanging out with those guys? They’re the kind of people who don’t get along.”

The coachman got angry and stopped the carriage.

It wasn't right in front of the cemetery, but a little further away.

It's not that I didn't like it, but I felt like he was expressing his feelings a bit, so I didn't know how to ask him to go further.

The only good thing was that the three of us had long since become accustomed to the smell of a rotting corpse.

It's a situation where I have to say that this is fortunate… … but anyway, what can I do about something like that?

"hmm."

“Hmm.”

That doesn't mean it was okay though.

The smell coming from the dissection lab and the smell coming from the graveyard are two different things.

I wondered why this was happening, and found that there were some graves that had been dug up.

There were also raised coffins.

I thought they were grave robbers.

'No… … That can't be true? What's here… … .'

If it was a rich person's grave, it would be difficult, but I thought I could understand.

Because there might be some accessories.

But this was a cemetery.

It was said that it was mainly a place where poor people were buried.

“How did you come here? You don’t seem like the type of people who would come to a place like this.”

While thinking about this and that, the three of them passed through the entrance, clinging as close as possible to overcome their primal fear, when they heard a rough voice.

He was a gravedigger.

It was my first time seeing your face, but I could recognize it.

Muddy clothes, sunken eyes, and a shovel in hand.

'and…….'

It was an impression that could only come out of a fantasy novel.

“Those, those people who just got here… … Where are they?”

“Just now? Oh… … that guy who died in the accident at London College.”

I felt once again that it was possible to be so calm when mentioning deaths due to medical accidents.

It was truly a time when there was absolutely no respect for life.

“I’m already inside.”

“Yes? Already?”

“Yeah, right. What’s there to waste time on?”

“No… …Can you take that out and look at it?”

“The body… …? Hmm.”

As I was here, I realized that I had become a bit like that.

I decided to take it out without even realizing it.

While I was standing there feeling ashamed, the gravedigger looked around instead of saying anything to me.

“The bereaved family is gone, yes. It’s not difficult, but… …it costs extra.”

Then he started to say things that would make him worthy of divine punishment.

“If you take the body, you have to pay more.”

I think I know why the coachman said they were incompatible.

He was a gravedigger, no different from a corpse dealer.

“It’s a bit expensive because it hasn’t rotted yet.”

Judging from the fact that he even put the unit price, he was a real dealer.

It was said that the skill was not something that could be achieved by selling it for a day or two.

Anyway, since the topic of money came up, my right to speak was long gone.

I looked back at Alfred.

Normally Joseph would have been there too, but he was just staring at the floor, frightened.

Of course, just me alone was enough to convey the message that I wanted money.

"also?"

“I’m a beggar, sir.”

“Wow… …Look at me speaking politely now?”

“Are you going to kill people?”

"under……."