"Ughh..."
About 40 minutes later, the patient opened her eyes.
Her face was still pale, but her consciousness was clear.
"Ah, my stomach..."
It was a relief that she could feel the pain normally.
Not that I intentionally didn't give her painkillers for this reason.
I just didn't have any proper medication to give.
There aren't any injectable drugs to administer while unconscious, right?
"Please drink this for now."
"Ah, yes. Ugh..."
Fortunately, even though it was abdominal surgery, the intestines weren't touched, so there was no particular reason to fast.
Well...
That doesn't mean she can start eating right away either.
We don't know when she might need another surgery—how could we feed her?
She should just take medicine for now.
"Ah, that's enough."
"Hmm."
But that doesn't mean I can give her a lot of medicine either.
Dosage...
Actually, I'm not sure exactly, but anyway, if she takes too much and develops gastrointestinal issues, she'll bleed again, won't she?
She's already skinny—what if she bleeds again?
Then she'll probably die.
Well, I could perform another transfusion, but...
"I feel dizzy... is this okay... is it really okay?"
How much blood actually flowed from the brother to the patient?
That was also a complete mystery.
'I thought it would be completely fine, but it's not. Well, I guess it can't be helped?'
The patient's brother might not be from as robust a family as Lord Jamie, but he's still from a comparable family, right?
So he looked quite aristocratic... which pretty much means he appeared sickly.
He might have already had anemia.
I only found this out recently through the arsenic incident, but these bastards have been poisoning themselves with lead for quite a while now.
Who?
Themselves.
'And doing a transfusion like this in such a condition... Sigh.'
I can't help but sigh.
It's not easy to prioritize the donor's safety, which is the first principle.
Moreover, how could I possibly know in advance what diseases this brother might have?
He probably has an STD with high probability.
Everyone acts innocent and pretends to go to church diligently, but behind the scenes, you know?
If you see their social circles, it's really something else.
"Please drink some water for now."
Not that I have any reason to criticize this gentleman.
After all, he's a righteous man who personally donated blood to save his sister.
But I couldn't just give someone else's blood either.
So I had her drink water instead.
With some rest, she should be able to pull through this.
For the poor, eating meat is like grabbing stars from the sky, but nobles rarely eat meals without meat.
"Ah, I see. My head hurts... But... oh my."
The brother, perhaps feeling a throbbing headache, held his forehead and then turned to look at his sister.
The area was still soaked with the bloody fluid that had spilled from the patient's abdomen earlier.
I know clearly that it's not all blood but a mixture with amniotic fluid, but what about the others?
They'll probably think it's all blood.
"This is a miracle..."
"Let us all pray."
So how must his sister, who survived this, and I, who made it happen, appear to them?
We must look literally like divine miracles.
"Yes, glory to the Lord."
Even though I was the one who did it...
What would happen if I said that now?
Hoho.
It wouldn't go well.
It definitely wouldn't.
So I subtly blended into the prayer led by Jamie.
Of course, in my mind, I was thinking completely different thoughts.
'Transfusions... I don't think this can be done just anywhere by anyone right away.'
For transfusions to work properly, understanding blood types is important, but long-term blood storage is equally crucial.
Frankly, using people as living blood bags like now isn't easy, is it?
Probably even people who wouldn't hesitate to donate blood would run away if asked to do it this way.
Of course, 19th-century people are much tougher than 21st-century people... so it might not be that bad.
'First, Blundell, who I can communicate with. Yes. Let's gradually introduce it starting from the maternity ward. We can't keep calling people to draw blood on the spot like now. At least... Hmm. Yes, that would be good.'
What about medical students among them?
They're guys filled with passion to save lives.
Just look at Colin—doesn't that prove it?
He pulled out his own tooth to prove an anesthetic.
And it wasn't just Colin; almost all the medical students raised their hands and volunteered then.
So if I told them they need to donate blood for medical progress, how would they react?
I don't know for sure, but there wouldn't be just one or two lining up.
I should probably worry about them volunteering too often and dying instead?
"You seemed to be having some rather improper thoughts during prayer time."
After prayer time ended, we left the room, leaving the patient with the midwives and other nurses.
Then Liston approached me with a suspicious smile and said this.
"Ah, no. I didn't have any such thoughts."
"Then did you pray?"
"Well..."
"Be honest. It's not like I wouldn't understand anyway. Even I probably couldn't pray properly after successfully completing surgery and transfusion."
"I didn't pray."
"What were you thinking about?"
"Well... I was thinking about selecting some stupid... no, kind-hearted friends among the medical students to use as blood bags on duty."
"Blood bags. Really... such a typical word coming from you."
A typical word from me?
What does that even mean?
What is he trying to say?
As I was looking at him confused, Liston made a resigned expression and spoke.
"Can't even feel how strange that is. Anyway, it's undoubtedly a good idea. But... didn't you say blood clots if it doesn't match? Family would probably be best."
"Well, that's true... but you saw it earlier, right? He's still staggering while walking."
"Ah, that gentleman? He does look particularly weak."
"But he's probably healthier than laborers. Blood is... life, as written in the Bible. Giving part of that life—could unhealthy people endure it in the first place?"
"Ah... So you're saying to take such an important thing from medical students, is that it?"
"Is that how it sounds? Well, we'll space it out. When their life force is replenished, then we'll draw, and so on."
"John William Polidori would have loved to hear this."
"Who's that?"
At my words, Liston made that resigned expression again and reluctantly opened his mouth.
"Don't you know about vampires?"
Huh, why is that coming up here...
"I guess you don't know. He wrote that novel, didn't he? He was a doctor."
"Oh, he was a doctor?"
"Yes. I heard he was very interested in blood. So he probably wrote that novel. I never thought much about it before, but seeing today, I think maybe he also tried experiments like this."
The name sounds British.
The Count Dracula I know is Romanian...
"You look like you want to ask if you can meet him, but unfortunately."
"Don't tell me he's dead? Is he from long ago?"
"No, well... if he were alive, he'd be older than me. But he's been dead for quite a while."
"That's unfortunate."
Yeah, would a doctor write a vampire novel for no reason?
He must have had great interest in blood.
Then...
It would have been impossible in the 21st century, but here, he probably experimented too.
With William in his name, he was probably quite wealthy.
"Hmm. I never met him myself, but I read the novel. You would have gotten along well with him. I read it when I was in university—it was quite interesting."
"Oh..."
"I'll lend it to you if you look for it at my house."
"Thank you, hyung."
"Anyway, blood bags. Let's try that. We'll need to have several on duty since matching blood should be available."
"Yes, if that doesn't work out..."
When was it again?
I recalled a scene from a movie or comic I saw at some unspecified time.
"Wouldn't there be many people willing to sell blood?"
"Sell blood? Ah... like this?"
"Yes. If the blood doesn't match, it won't work anyway. If it matches, we pay money. Since it's for situations where you might die without a transfusion, the wealthy would gladly pay."
"Selling blood... truly a devilish idea. But genius. Yes, at least noble families or businessmen would have no reason not to buy it."
I felt like Liston muttered "typical" again, but since I'd already brought it up...
Well, buying and selling blood might feel somewhat cruel.
But 19th-century London is a den of demons, a den.
I guarantee—if people hear they can make a fortune selling blood, there will be more than a truckload of people voluntarily rolling up their sleeves.
In a world where you can't make money just by working, it's only natural.
Heck, they even buy and sell corpses in London right now?
Compared to that, blood would be a very conscientious business.
At least this involves consent before selling.
"Thank you. Thanks to you, my granddaughter-in-law is alive."
While I was scheming with Liston like this, Lord Jamie came to greet me.
When would I ever receive greetings from nobles, especially someone like a duke?
"Ah, you flatter me too much."
"No, no. You really... Now that things have come to this, about the sewer—I'll put more effort into it. I can't do a massive overhaul, but it will be better than now."
"Thank you so much."
"And this, though modest."
"No, haha. Thank you."
Being a high noble, he naturally didn't just settle with words.
Not only did he scratch where it itched, but I also received quite a bit of money.
And that wasn't all.
A few days later, I got to meet quite an influential person in London.
Well, compared to nobles, he might be nothing, but to commoners, there's probably no one more fearsome.
"Pleasure to meet you. I've heard much about you from Dr. Liston too. I'm Jonathan Cake."
"Yes, pleased to meet you, Commissioner."
The police commissioner.
I haven't done anything wrong, but I feel strangely scared.
I looked at Lord Jamie with an expression seeking explanation.
Not that I'm worried—I'm confident he wouldn't repay kindness with enmity now.
I'm just curious.
'It can't be bad to be connected with the police.'
First off, there's no more reliable and stable source of corpses than the London police.
They're also the best at finding people.
They're already looking for Hugh, that sailor whose balls I cut off before.
Him disappearing was somewhat expected.
He received quite a lot of money—why would he still live in that dump?
He's probably already spent it all and is begging somewhere.
London is full of pleasures like alcohol, gambling, and women.
"Ah, it's nothing major. Police officers get injured very often, don't they? They already receive help now, but... I was wondering if we could provide blood like you did for my granddaughter-in-law."
"I've heard about it. Doctor Pyeong. Hearing about it, it's truly groundbreaking. What do you think? If you pass on the know-how... I'll treat you very well."
While I was thinking about that, the transfusion discussion had somehow grown enormous and come back to me.