Chapter 63: The Experts of the Head (1).

"As expected…"

Dr. Liston let out a sigh—or perhaps it was something else—as he gazed at the patient.

"No…"

"So, were you just saying it didn't hurt because you were scared?"

Joseph and Alfred looked utterly shocked.

And who could blame them?

Doctors of this era were strangely overconfident.

Otherwise, how could they even think of cutting off a person's arm without anesthesia, not once, but four times?

Even the devil would've said, "Professor, this is a bit much…" or that things were moving too fast. The fact that they went through with it meant they truly believed it was for the patient's good.

"Ugh…"

Me?

Well, I already knew the theory was nonsense from the start, so I wasn't that surprised.

But just a moment ago, the patient, who had seemed like a tough sailor, suddenly looked so pitiful that it caught me off guard.

So, I patted his shoulder.

"Sniff…"

I didn't expect him to cry, though.

Then again, maybe crying was the natural response.

I mean, who wouldn't?

Every doctor who saw him was only thinking about cutting off his arm.

He must have felt like a lab rat back in that room.

'Doctors of this era… no, people in general, really lacked a sense of human rights.'

It was a class-based society, after all, so it made sense.

They might not have believed that noble blood was truly blue and that nobles were inherently superior anymore…

But the way they treated the weak was still hard for me, with my modern mindset, to comprehend.

"It's okay, it's okay. We won't cut off your arm…"

"You've done a noble thing. You almost let others suffer the same fate."

I continued to comfort him, and Dr. Liston didn't stay idle either.

Should I call it praise?

In any case, he patted the patient's shoulder as if to say, "Well done."

Each time, the patient let out a "Hic!" or muttered, "Please spare me…"

But to Liston, such reactions were as natural as breathing, so he didn't pay much attention.

"Now then… the question remains… how do we treat those who feel pain in limbs they no longer have…"

Moreover, Liston's mind was preoccupied with his patients.

Even after anesthesia and enduring unsanitary surgeries thanks to their strong immune systems, these resilient patients were now suffering from pain in limbs that no longer existed.

And the number of such patients was only increasing.

Would it decrease in the future?

It didn't seem likely.

This was an era where statistics and such weren't properly established, but it stood to reason that as the number of amputations increased, so would the number of patients with this strange condition.

"What do we do…?"

It was only natural for Liston to sigh.

"Sigh… what can we do?"

I sighed along with him.

It wasn't that I didn't know the solution.

After all, I was a professor at a 21st-century South Korean medical school. How could I not know about this?

It had been a long time since the mystery of phantom pain had been unraveled.

'The problem is… this is a matter of neuroscience…'

How on earth do I explain this…?

Neuroscience…

Even in the 21st century, it wasn't exactly easy, was it?

Explaining such a complex concept here…?

"If we cut deeper… no, I don't mean cutting the patient…"

Look at Liston.

He's one of the more sensible doctors here, but look at what he's saying now.

The patient just fainted!

Telling someone who's already terrified that we'll cut deeper… what kind of talk is that?

"First, let's get the patient settled."

"Ah, right. It's not like we'll figure anything out by staying here. Besides… hmm."

"Go on, brother."

I stood up, intending to save the patient first.

Since moving him alone would be impossible, Joseph and Alfred stood up with me.

As we were about to leave, Liston started to say something but stopped, which made me uneasy.

So, I urged him to continue.

Fortunately, since our relationship was beyond the ordinary, Liston didn't find it rude.

"Well, we have the patient's testimony, but… there's no evidence that the nerves aren't tangled, right?"

"Ah."

This idiot?

I almost lost my temper.

Thanks to my survival instincts, I managed to bite back the curse and instead said something else.

"If there's anyone who underwent amputation and suffered from this kind of pain… or rather, if there's anyone who died from it, we could perform an autopsy, couldn't we?"

"Oh."

Liston's eyes lit up.

At the same time, he glanced at our poor patient, who looked like he was about to faint.

I thought he'd gone mad.

Was he planning to kill and dissect him?

"Uh… brother. Looking at this patient, I think you might be seriously misunderstanding something…"

"Ah, right. I'll look into it."

Even the phrase "look into it" sent shivers down my spine.

Still, it was a relief.

At least it seemed he'd abandoned the idea of killing and dissecting this man.

Damn it…

The 19th century… the cursed 19th century.

"Patient, run."

"Ah, yes. Thank you… thank you."

In the end, I stopped myself from cursing and sent the patient on his way.

I didn't even realize I'd told him to run, but thankfully, he took it in stride.

For a moment, I thought about keeping him around to study phantom pain, but…

'This is going to become an epidemic…'

In the 21st century, seeing an amputee wasn't exactly common.

Amputation hadn't disappeared, but it was rare for someone to be in such a severe condition that they needed it.

Physical injuries themselves were less common, after all.

Of course, there were still dangerous jobs in the 21st century, but compared to this era…

Here, it was truly brutal.

'More than half of amputees suffer from phantom pain…'

The 21st century had various treatments, after all.

Amputations weren't done so recklessly.

There were procedures, and after the surgery, there were rehabilitation programs.

Here?

Here, getting a crutch was considered lucky.

Sometimes, they'd just stick a blunt piece of wood in place.

I realized that the pirates I'd seen in cartoons as a kid were real… now that I was here.

"But this… there's nothing we can do, is there?"

"What can we… no, wait. Maybe Pyeong could do something."

While I was lost in thought, Joseph and Alfred started chattering away.

Then they looked at me with expectant eyes.

It wasn't too burdensome.

I already knew the answer.

The problem was how to explain it and how to treat it.

'First… I should start by explaining the cause.'

I decided to postpone thinking about the treatment for later.

It would seem strange to jump straight to treatment without knowing anything.

Of course, most people here had the strange habit of trying treatments first, even if they didn't know the cause or had the wrong idea…

But I couldn't do that.

Even if I couldn't do much now, I wanted to be able to make everyone tremble at my words someday.

To achieve that, I had to take things step by step, starting now.

"What do I know? But…"

"But?"

"You're different. You seem to know something, don't you?"

"First, we need to see the patient. What good is just imagining things in our heads?"

"Isn't science supposed to start with imagination?"

"Exactly."

It wasn't easy.

These self-proclaimed scientists had an exaggerated misunderstanding of science.

To say that science starts with imagination…

The fact that this was somewhat true drove me crazy.

After all, many hypotheses and theories did start with imagination, didn't they?

But it couldn't be built entirely on imagination from start to finish.

'With that kind of thinking… no wonder they chop off people's arms like it's nothing…'

You lunatics!

I really wanted to curse them out, but I held back.

Instead, I decided to slowly reason with them.

"Imagination alone isn't enough… Do you know exactly what this symptom is?"

"It's when your arm is gone but it still hurts."

"Besides that."

"Isn't that all?"

This wasn't easy either.

For communication to work, there needs to be some common knowledge, right?

There's a reason medical students are drilled with medical terminology until they drop.

If not, this is what happens.

In other words…

"Sigh… is that all? If it's just that, it's too… too magical."

"Magic? That's such an unscientific thing to say."

"That's what you're saying!"

"Why are you getting so angry? Act like a civilized person."

It was a case of a smart person being treated like a fool.

"Anyway… let's go. If we ask around, we might find something else."

"No, but still…"

"What can you do by sitting here and thinking?"

"No, not much."

"Then follow me."

"Uh… okay."

Fortunately, I had a way with words in this group.

Otherwise, would these guys even be considered human?

They'd already made several "great discoveries," so it was only natural.

If it weren't for me, they'd still be cutting off limbs without anesthesia, dissecting bodies without washing their hands, and touching patients without gloves…

Not to mention dissecting without gloves and dying from infections.

"Hmm…"

The place we arrived at was the waiting room.

Though calling it a waiting room was a stretch—it was more like a chaotic marketplace.

There were… too many people.

But that didn't make it hard to find the patients I was looking for.

"When will it be my turn?"

"Me!"

It was chaotic, but amputees stood out.

Prosthetics weren't well-developed at this time, so having a hook like Captain Hook was considered lucky.

Most just let their empty sleeves dangle.

Those who lost a leg?

They used crutches.

Not the standardized kind, but ones they'd cobbled together themselves.

"Ouch!"

As a result, falls were common.

Already weakened, a fall could easily lead to death.

'If I ever get my hands on some money, I should make prosthetics…'

I hadn't thought much about it before, but seeing it up close, it was a serious issue.

Truly, this was the 19th century.

Problems never ended!

It's amazing they managed to develop at all!

"Patient."

In any case, I gathered those patients.

It wasn't too hard since they were eager to see a doctor but hadn't been able to.

Moreover, most of the amputees were Dr. Liston's patients.

To other patients, I was just a strange-looking guy, but to these people, I was Dr. Liston's favored assistant.

"Does anyone here feel pain in their missing arm or leg?"

They looked at me as if wondering how I knew, then raised their remaining hand.

I'd brought five people, and all five had phantom pain.