"That person… the way they move is no joke."
"Right? It's like… they're so… professional."
"Isn't Dr. Liston more famous?"
"What's he doing now?"
"Administering poison."
"Ah."
The murmurs carried on the wind reached my ears.
It seemed to be about me, but I was too busy moving around to focus properly.
I had no choice.
"Here!"
"Ah, yes."
It wasn't just one or two…
Who knew there were so many people in London who deserved to die?
Well, they did, but…
Huh?
Sending ten at once?
Lord…
Looks like the road's gonna be jammed today…
'Ah, well, they're all headed to hell anyway, so maybe He doesn't care.'
Pushing aside such thoughts, I faced the next subject.
Honestly…
Given his rough life, his demeanor was noticeably different.
If Dr. Liston gave off an intimidating aura, this man was downright dangerous.
Dr. Liston was the type you could expect to lash out when angry, but this guy? You couldn't predict what he'd do.
And in reality, he probably was exactly like that.
'Pupillary reflex… none… Wait, huh? There is one. What the hell?'
Maybe I misjudged because of his intimidating appearance, but when I checked again, there was definitely a reaction.
I had him close his eyes tightly and then open them again.
And sure enough, his pupils contracted.
No way…
He survived arsenic poisoning?
And not just regular arsenic—this was supposed to be even more toxic…
"Hold on a moment."
"Yes? What's wrong?"
"He's still alive."
Anyway…
I called over an officer and told him.
The officer probably hadn't noticed, but since I'd been watching this terrifying-looking man the whole time, I saw him flinch when I said he was still alive.
"Huh? Isn't he dead?"
"No. He's not."
"But he's cold…"
Listen…
Don't just declare someone dead based on flimsy evidence like that…
Because of idiots like you, gang leaders get executed, and their underlings carry their bodies to the morgue, hoping they'll come back to life.
Sure, they claim it's about respect or whatever, but in reality, they're just praying for a resurrection.
There was even a gang leader around here nicknamed "Jesus" because of it.
After surviving execution, his reputation skyrocketed, and he went right back to his old ways—even worse than before.
"No. He's alive. I can hear his breathing. Here, listen."
"Should I really…?"
"Yes. It's not like this is magic or anything."
"Uh… Oh. Oh… I—I can hear it!"
The officer rushed off excitedly to inform the chief inspector.
Though "excited" might be an understatement.
Honestly… if you didn't know about pupillary reflexes and didn't have a stethoscope, you'd probably assume he was dead too.
"What now?"
"What do you mean? We have to administer it again. Hey, wake up!"
"Ah."
First time witnessing an execution today, and now I get to see a re-execution too.
Ugh.
I didn't want to watch that, so I just moved on to the others.
Just from the sounds, I could tell how horrifying it must have been.
Slaps across the face, forcing his mouth open, shoving it down his throat…
Would he regain consciousness?
Probably not.
Anyway…
After that gruesome stretch of time, I finally confirmed that all ten condemned men were dead.
"This is… Could I trouble you for this again sometime?"
"Ah… Yes. Of course."
Rewarding?
Extremely.
For one, I didn't have to perform autopsies on living people anymore.
And I'd also earned a favor from the chief inspector, who was at the heart of power here.
"Then let's head to the theater."
Of course, the fact that I'd be demonstrating the autopsy in a theater…
Wasn't exactly ideal, but recalling Liston's words, this wasn't entirely bad in the long run.
Besides, in this era, sometimes you just had to tell yourself "good enough is good enough" to keep going.
'Formalin… Hmm… I'll deal with that later.'
If it were just us, I'd have preserved the bodies right away, but for a public event like this, it seemed risky.
Didn't want to stir up unnecessary trouble, right?
So, off to the theater we went.
"Wait… Here?"
I'd expected something like a large cinema, but…
The sign read *Royal*.
In the 21st century, places might slap "Royal" on their names just for prestige, but in the 19th century, under the British Empire, "Royal" literally meant *royal*—owned by the Crown.
So, this was a royal establishment.
"Yes, the London Royal Opera House. Apparently, Princess Victoria has quite an interest in anatomy. Hah, don't be too nervous. She may be a princess, but she's quite down-to-earth."
"Ah… What?"
Victoria?
Princess Victoria?
In this era, in London, there was only one person that name could refer to.
'The Grandmother of Europe…?'
The British Empire was already formidable, but the Victorian era was on another level.
Judging by the way things were going, this wasn't a direct order from the king, but…
I wasn't exactly an expert on British royal lineage, so overthinking it wouldn't help.
The important thing was…
The future Queen of the British Empire wasn't just observing my dissection—she'd personally provided the venue.
'Do well… Taepyeong… Do a damn good job…'
This meant…
I'd already planned to do my best, but now I had to go even further.
"Don't stress too much. She probably won't even be visible."
"Ah, right."
Liston patted my shoulder reassuringly as I took a deep breath.
Worrying was pointless.
'Nervous? About Queen Victoria…?'
She was intimidating, sure.
But thinking about it, she was still young when she ascended the throne.
That would've been around the mid-to-late 1830s, so right now, she'd be in her early teens, right?
Even if she found dissections entertaining, she probably wouldn't be able to stomach the actual procedure.
Besides, I'd done live surgeries before—right in front of renowned professors.
'Compared to that, this is nothing.'
With that in mind, I strode confidently into the stone building.
The London Royal Opera House.
The name was grand, and the interior matched.
Truly fitting for an era when the world's wealth flowed into London.
*Tap. Tap.*
And perhaps because the princess was attending, even the setup of the cadavers was executed with military precision.
In the blink of an eye, the body I'd be dissecting was placed on the highest platform, with the others arranged below.
Most theaters would've been cramped, but the Opera House had plenty of space.
The audience seating was enormous too, and the first-floor seats were already packed.
Seemed like everyone from earlier had followed us here.
And not just them.
"The high and mighty have arrived too."
"High and mighty…?"
"You think it's just the royals? Nobles are here too. Look, even Earl Charles Grey is present."
"The Prime Minister?"
Wow…
The Prime Minister too?
This was getting out of hand.
I couldn't help but shiver.
I knew dissections were popular entertainment in this era, but I hadn't expected *this* level of attention.
Are these people insane?
"Ah, right. Nervous?"
"N-No."
"Well, if you are, just say so. I've got liquor here."
"No, I'm fine…"
Misinterpreting my trembling, Liston showed me what looked like strong enough liquor to knock someone out from the smell alone.
It wasn't just alcohol—it was hard liquor. No way I could drink that.
I'd rather be a little shaky…
Besides…
I really was a professional.
Once I stood before the cadaver, my pounding heart quickly settled.
"Good evening."
My voice steadied too.
Despite the massive crowd—despite the nobles and royals mixed among them—I spoke with the same calm tone as always.
"I am Taepyeong Kim, studying medicine under Dr. Liston. Today, we'll begin by examining the anatomy of the neck."
With that introduction, I glanced to the side.
As always, my faithful assistants and friends, Joseph and Alfred, stepped forward.
Colin handed me the scalpel.
After multiple refinements, it was finally a proper, usable tool.
"Hmm… They're wearing gloves."
"Looks more professional than bare hands, no?"
"Taepyeong Kim? Where's he from? Not India, right? China?"
"No, I heard it's Joseon. The director there boasted about him being quite talented."
"Pfft. How good can an Oriental be?"
"Well… Some of them do have skill."
The first floor was quiet.
Partly because this kind of spectacle was rare, but mostly because of the high-ranking figures chattering on the second floor.
This wasn't the Middle Ages—they couldn't just beat you for displeasing them—but…
Getting on their bad side wouldn't end well, even in the 21st century.
"Now, the incision starts from the right earlobe and continues downward."
Anyway, that wasn't the point right now.
I had to teach proper dissection and surgical techniques to the doctors present.
Liston already knew the basics from me, but the rest had no clue—absolutely none.
They only had a vague idea of what the neck looked like inside…
No idea how to properly dissect it.
"The depth should be just enough to cut through the first thin layer of muscle. It varies by individual, so don't slice all at—no, wait. You… Are you even a doctor?"
So, I had to explain not just verbally but also by demonstrating on my own specimen, walking around to correct them.
"I am a doctor."
"Ah, it's Kane… Ugh. You can't be this rough. It's the *neck*."
"It's fine for the abdomen."
"No, it's *not*! You can't perform surgery like this!"
It wasn't easy.
This was an era where even the most basic concept—dissecting layer by layer—was foreign.
Most surgeons didn't have the luxury of time for such meticulous procedures anyway.
Proper anesthesia had only become viable this year.
And even then, only a few hospitals used it…
'Damn idiots…'
I tried to stay patient, but it was exhausting.
This was a complete mess.
"Watch closely. If you don't understand, come closer."
"Ugh."
"You came to learn, so *watch*! Don't judge by the yellow face! Or do you want a private meeting with Dr. Liston?"
"Ah, no."
Thankfully, Liston's presence was a saving grace.
It was like having an ultimate weapon.
No one dared defy his authority.