Chapter 183: Devil's Snot (7)

Healer Ludwig's surgery was quite excellent.

As expected, the confidence he briefly showed didn't seem to be a bluff.

'He knows the structures to be careful of well, too.'

The neck area is a region densely packed with highly dangerous blood vessels and nerves.

Furthermore, this soldier patient had already undergone reconstructive surgery from me once.

This meant his form deviated greatly from normal anatomy.

Nevertheless, Ludwig's hand movements were skillful.

'It must have been hard to find the hypoglossal nerve, but he found it well.'

Like that, thanks to Ludwig's skillful leading surgery, the surgery ended in success.

No serious problems occurred while I was in charge of the anesthesia either.

'His hand tremors and minimally invasive approach were a bit lacking, but those are things we can fix later.'

I organized the things Ludwig lacked in my head.

At this point, packing him up to take with me was already confirmed.

After finishing the surgery like that, the next morning.

I was naturally able to find Ludwig preparing a patient report before the morning ward rounds.

"I will give the patient report on Max, Lord Saint."

"Aren't you the attending healer, Mr. Ludwig? Why are you giving a report to me?"

"Just in case I might have made a mistake somewhere......"

"Then you should call it a joint diagnosis, not a patient report."

An additional necessary item for Ludwig came to mind.

It seemed he also needed more confidence and pride befitting his skill.

What are we supposed to do if someone who isn't even an apprentice healer, but a whole intermediate healer, is faint-hearted?

"Th-Then, may I request a joint diagnosis?"

"Understood."

Ludwig started his briefing while turning the chart.

Though it was still closer to a patient report than a joint diagnosis.

"23-year-old male patient. Has a past medical history of mandible reconstruction with a fibular graft, presented with Ludwig's Angina due to infection at the reconstructive surgery site. Performed tracheal intubation in a conscious state and Submandibular Incision and Drainage. It has been one day since the surgery."

He let out a dry cough once and read off the numbers.

"Vital signs are all good, and two drainage tubes have been placed for drainage. The drainage volume for the first day was about 20cc, and the color and consistency were close to pus."

"When do you plan to use Heal?"

"I will observe the drainage volume for about a week, and if it decreases to under 5cc, I will use Heal then."

If Heal is used while pus remains in the throat, this entire surgery becomes all for nothing.

That's why he seemed to be setting a generous timeframe of about a week.

"However, there is a part I'd like to request a joint diagnosis on from you, Lord Saint. When can the Extubation be done?"

"We will do the Extubation right away once the risk of airway obstruction is judged to be low."

Currently, the patient still had the tube inserted in his airway.

Because we considered the possibility of the airway narrowing again after the surgery ended.

However, we couldn't just leave the tube inserted forever.

"If he's intubated for too long, PITS (Post-Intubation Tracheal Stenosis) could occur, so let's do the extubation sometime today."

PITS

A complication that occurs when a tracheal tube intubated for a long period continuously presses against the tracheal mucosa,

it is a disease where mucosal ischemia occurs due to the pressure from the tracheal tube, and a scar is formed during the healing process, narrowing the trachea.

To put it simply, keeping a tracheal tube in for a long time causes something similar to asthma.

Because of this, we were trying to pull the tube out as quickly as possible if it could be pulled out.

"Thank you for the joint diagnosis. And currently, pain management is being carried out smoothly. After observing the progress for a few more days, if there are no problems, I will switch from the intravenous antibiotic to oral administration."

In the end, it was closer to a patient report than a joint diagnosis until the very end.

After receiving the patient report disguised as a joint diagnosis.

I immediately headed to the patient's hospital room.

"Mr. Max. It is time for ward rounds."

As his name was called out, the soldier who had been lying down raised his body.

I checked the soldier's condition, then removed the tracheal tube that was inserted in his neck.

"Is it comfortable to breathe?"

"Ah, Lord Saint. Thanks to you, breathing is much more comfortable. Really, I don't know how to express my words of thanks......"

Perhaps because it was right after extubation, a slightly hoarse voice came from his throat.

Fortunately, he didn't show symptoms of asthma or dyspnea.

Max tried to get up from the bed to offer his words of thanks.

I raised my hand to stop him.

"Words of thanks are fine. Before that, there is one thing I would like to confirm."

And I brought up the question I had put off yesterday because the situation was urgent.

"With symptoms this severe, there's no way you wouldn't have known yourself. Why didn't you come looking for me?"

I had been curious all along.

What on earth had he been doing until it reached this state?

It must have been hard to breathe, and uncomfortable to speak too.

But wouldn't you think something was wrong around that point?

Max seemed to feel a prick of conscience too, as he stealthily avoided my gaze.

"Th......That is."

Soon, he deeply bowed his head and spoke as if making an excuse.

"I just thought it was swollen a little worse than usual."

"How on earth is this just a little?"

"Still, considering my jaw had disappeared, I thought...... it might be natural for it to swell this much after surgery......"

I almost pinched my forehead.

So, he's saying he didn't consider this a big deal.

The moment I heard those words, a sigh came out naturally.

"Didn't I tell you to come immediately if there was anything wrong?"

"Y-You did......"

"Then why didn't you follow those words?"

"Because you are busy, Lord Saint, I didn't want to needlessly be a nuisance to you...... A-Anyway, my regular check-up was four days away...... so I thought I just needed to bear with it for a bit......"

As soon as I heard those words, I felt a sense of unease.

It wasn't a sense of unease felt from a lie.

Rather, it was a sense of unease like I had heard it somewhere before.

Should I call it a kind of déjà vu?

Then, as I thought about it carefully, I was able to realize the true nature of that déjà vu.

— "Your legs are paralyzed, so why did you only come now?"

— "Well, my legs have been numb from diabetes for 20 years now, so I figured it just got a bit worse. I never would've thought it'd be a cerebral hemorrhage."

Why do patients act like this in both my previous life and current life?

I was curious about it since my previous life.

Probably not just me, but everyone who works in a hospital would be curious about it, right?

If there is someone who knows the reason, I really want them to tell me.

I barely held back a leaking sigh as I spoke.

"It is incredibly natural for a healer to treat a patient. It won't be a nuisance, so please tell me right away if there is a problem."

"Yeees......"

There's something patients misunderstand.

They wonder if it wouldn't be too much of a nuisance to come visiting for something useless.

It wasn't a completely wrong statement.

Since a significant number of people who walk into the emergency room on their own two feet worrying about a stroke often just have a migraine.

However, you couldn't unconditionally call that a nuisance.

Rather, bearing with it and letting the disease grow before coming in was more of a nuisance.

Since something that could end with Tylenol ends up spreading into a major surgery.

"So in the future, if there's even the slightest thing wrong, come right away. Do not bear with it. Bearing with it is not a virtue."

At my request, Max nodded his head, heavily intimidated.

*

— "Thank you, Lord Saint. Really...... thank you."

Letting that greeting flow behind my back, I left the hospital room.

This wasn't my infirmary anyway.

It meant my business was over once I checked Max's condition.

'Then my next schedule is......'

Closing the hospital room door, I checked my next schedule in the hallway.

It was then.

Unexpected people were waiting for me in the hallway.

One was the familiar face of Jenny.

Beside her stood a middle-aged man in a neat formal wear.

Discovering me, Jenny approached while smiling with him.

"Professor. Are you finished with your ward rounds?"

"Yes, Miss Jenny. But the person beside you is......?"

Jenny reached her hand out toward the middle-aged gentleman and introduced him.

"This is President Jorge. He is the president of the capital's most influential daily newspaper, The Daily Citizen, and the company where I submit my novels."

Aha.

It was my first time seeing him today, but I felt a sense of familiarity.

"But what brings you to look for me?"

"It's an honor, Lord Saint. Yes. Actually, I came to find you because I have something urgent to discuss with you, Lord Saint."

He rummaged and took something out of his pocket.

It was an invitation to the banquet held yesterday.

I hadn't noticed because there were too many people, but it seemed he had been at the banquet hall too.

"I was deeply moved by the toast you gave on the podium, Lord Saint, and the noble sight of your back as you took the disabled veteran who collapsed during the banquet and left without hesitation. So, I shamelessly came to find you like this after pestering Author Jenny in order to make a proposal."

He spoke with such fervency that he seemed about to run out of breath at any moment.

"Therefore, we would like to promote your foundation in our newspaper. Furthermore, we wish to serialize a feature article regarding disabled veterans."

What he wanted to say was simple.

He wanted to create a social atmosphere where soldiers who were forced to rely on drugs wouldn't be pointed at.

It was roughly this kind of feeling.

For me, there was no reason to refuse.

"So you want to change the perception regarding soldiers."

"That is correct."

The guild master's eyes briefly turned toward the ceiling.

And he spoke as if chewing over yesterday.

"Right now, people are busy pointing fingers at disabled veterans who have touched drugs, calling them merely weak and debauched addicts. There were many at the banquet hall yesterday with attitudes no different from that.

But they are not sinners, are they not victims who were abandoned even after sacrificing their bodies for the country!"

The president clenched both his hands into fists.

"I believed it shouldn't be like this. That is why I came to find you like this, Lord Saint. To do so, your medical consultation and the foundation's philosophy are absolutely necessary, Lord Saint."

"Are you asking me to provide a consultation?"

"That is correct."

"With such good intentions, I should gladly help you."

"Ohh! Thank you, Lord Saint! Do you perhaps have a specific direction we should keep in mind when writing the article?"

I pondered for a moment.

Wondering what part needed special attention.

I couldn't hastily answer regarding that part.

However, that was only for a moment.

"Do not portray them merely as pathetic and pitiful objects of pity."

Soon, I started to inform him of the points to keep in mind before writing the article.

*

Several days after that.

The feature article was released to the world.

That article, which decorated the front page largely, spread quickly.

「Morphine can become Tears of an Angel or Devil's Snot depending on how it is used.」

「It takes away the pain of the dying, allowing them to die like a human, but at the same time, it drags a sane person down to a beast, making them die as a beast.」

「Someone will see an angel in this drug.」

「Someone will see a demon in this drug.」

「The problem is the fact that the soldiers who use this drug on the battlefield see nothing the moment they use this drug.」

「This world is harsh. To the point where one would willingly borrow a demon's hand to survive.」

「In such a world, soldiers are the ones driven into the harshest world more than anyone else.」

「To survive, they beg an angel for mercy. However, when they return to their hometown, they often realize too late that their souls have been handed over to a demon.」

「Should what is directed at them really be pointing fingers or an embrace?」

「The author dares to say. What they need is neither an angel nor a demon. It is simply a hometown that will welcome them just as they are.」

The article's repercussion was far greater than expected.

People did not blindly fear morphine, nor did they blindly covet it.

'A drug that changes depending on how it is handled.'

People started to slowly understand morphine in that way.

Inquiries about patronage for the foundation followed one after another, and the streets' gaze looking at disabled veterans also softened, even if only subtly.

It was right when the welfare foundation for disabled veterans was slowly taking root like that.

Inside the personal laboratory in the Academy Territory.

Sip.

Along with his morning coffee, Yulian was reading this heartwarming article.

Just how much setup had he done until releasing morphine to the world?

Making Wangcho consume Smoke Alley,

The trading company had sold the drug only to healers no matter what happened,

And he had maintained good relationships with the Order and the Military as well.

And more than anything, he put in effort to present a good image to society.

At the end of all these efforts, he was able to introduce morphine to the world relatively smoothly.

'I'm glad something like an Another World Opium War or Health Syrup incident didn't break out.'

It was a morning where he felt good, as if years of hard work had borne fruit.

Yulian wanted to feel this mood for longer.

So he made a clipping of the newspaper and pasted it into his diary.

Just like his younger sister, Freya.

At that moment, a former black sorcerer dashed out from the laboratory and shouted.

"It's...... It's finished! I'm liberated!"

"?"

"I finally made a discovery! Out of 50 types of yam and 30 types of mold, I found the most suitable yam! I'm liberated!"

"Excellent."

It was the slave assistant, no, the Black Sorcerer Belgian.

Having escaped his small room after about 100 days, he shouted, overcome with overwhelming emotion.

Yulian was also overcome with overwhelming emotion in a different sense.

Because this meant preparations for the mass production of steroids were finally ready.

'If I even apply the breed improvement technique passed down by Duke Keres here......'

He would be able to introduce steroids to the world in a short time.

They were all news that could be considered favorable factors for Yulian in many ways.

'Slowly, the next drug too......'

Yulian immediately formed a plan for the next drug as well.

If steroids were made with mold, he could move on to the next step.

Meanwhile, Belgian let out a low laugh as he looked at Yulian sipping his coffee.

'Hehe...... Now you have no choice but to acknowledge it, Black Saint! Now, when it comes to mold, I am equal to or better than you!'

As expected of an illegitimate child who couldn't call his Father a Father and his Bro a Bro.

He was acting arrogant as soon as he completed the mass production technique for steroids.

However, there was something he was misunderstanding.

Translated to modern times, Belgian's logic was like this.

— As a graduate student, I organized all the data to be used in the academic paper.

— So now, I know at least this area better than the professor.

It was roughly this kind of logic.

Naturally, there was no way anyone would agree to this.

Because the ultimate evolution of a graduate student is bound to be a professor.

However, for such objective self-awareness to happen, Belgian's sense of self had currently grown far too bloated.

'Hehe. Now if I make another drug that will even surprise this guy Yulian......'

Like that, Belgian was picturing a future where he would one day surpass Yulian and become a pharmaceutical specialist.

At that moment, Yulian handed a document to Belgian and spoke.

"Good job. Now it's the next drug."

"......What does that mean?"

"It means exactly as I said."

"W-Wait a minute."

Belgian tapped his own ears.

He suspected their function might have broken down from being stuck inside the laboratory for a long time.

However, sadly, his ears were perfectly fine.

"......Yulian. I knew you were researching morphine recently?"

"That is correct."

"Then when did you research this?"

Yulian spoke as if it was no big deal.

"It's a drug I conceptualized when I was 8 years old."

"......8 years old?"

Only then did Belgian realize something had gone wrong.

"It's because a few molds caught my eye in the interim reports Belgian submits. I am now able to create a drug I only conceptualized when I was young."

Goosebumps traveled down Belgian's spine.

This meant that while he was struggling with the task Yulian had given him,

Yulian had been researching morphine while reviewing his interim reports, and had drawn out another new possibility from those interim reports......

'......Is this a human? Why isn't he a demonkin?'

Belgian acted wary of Yulian.

Without knowing those inner thoughts, Yulian handed him the research proposal.

"Just rest for today, and let's start the next research right away tomorrow, Belgian. There are still many drugs to make."

"......"

Belgian silently looked down at that proposal and was convinced.

Yulian is a demonkin.

No, he had to be a demonkin.

Otherwise, there was no way he could be this ignorant of a human's heart.