Sailors.
If I bring my 21st-century perception to this, it's indeed not an easy job.
It's not just hard work; to work on a ship, don't you have a lot of different things to learn and know?
There are even separate universities for it...
I don't know much about it, but shouldn't it be considered a kind of specialized profession?
'This is...'
I didn't think it would be the same.
Actually, even being a doctor feels very different from being a 21st-century doctor.
I'm somewhat of a scientist and receive treatment befitting the middle class and above...
But it's not just about studying well; physical strength felt incredibly important.
But this...
The difference between a 21st-century sailor and a 19th-century sailor is...
"Hahahaha!"
"Indeed, if you're a man, you must go to sea!"
"Hahaha! This guy, anyone would think you've been out multiple times!"
"But what kind of ship will I be on?"
"A sailing ship!"
"Ah, a sailing ship!"
I still don't quite understand why steamships aren't the mainstream yet.
But then again...
Isn't that a problem for me to understand?
The important thing was the people gathered before my eyes.
'So these... are 19th-century seamen.'
Really...
They look more menacing than a gang.
No, rather...
"Oh, ohh. Sword Saint Liston? Even the Pyongsiin! Long time no see!"
"Wh-Who are you again?"
"Uh... Haha! Is it a bit presumptuous to act familiar here? It's just... I was the one a few times, you know..."
"Ah, ahh."
He's a corpse supplier.
The word 'supplier' might make it sound like a legitimate job...
But you need to focus more on the word 'corpse' that comes before it.
What else would you call someone who regularly supplies corpses?
It's a gang. A gang.
"I'm trying to make a fresh start now. With my brothers here."
"Ah... I see."
A gang has arrived!
Thinking the senior's ship was in big trouble, I went to tell the uncle.
"Huh? Really?"
But his reaction was somewhat lukewarm.
It was like, 'So what?'
It felt like he was only being this calm because it was me; if it were anyone else, he probably would've made a big deal out of it.
As I stood there with a puzzled look on my face, the uncle laughed heartily and patted my shoulder.
"Ah, right. You're Joseon-born, right? Haha. You seem so much like a fine British citizen now."
"I am a citizen, yes."
"Ah, ahh. Right. Anyway... Without those gang fellows, recruiting new sailors is actually quite difficult."
"Huh?"
"That lot is actually quite good. The police don't search the ship from top to bottom as soon as it docks for no reason. If you set aside ex-cons, murderers, and such, there's no one left to recruit."
"Ah..."
"So don't worry. Our ship is full of fellows far worse than them. Ah, once you see the captain, your worries will vanish. Hey! Mark!"
The uncle is, in fact, the shipowner.
The money man, that is, and you should see the captain as the player...
The man called Mark came over.
"Wow..."
"Ah, the famous Pyongsiin, I see."
"Ah, yes. It's... a pleasure."
"Haha. The pleasure's mine, the pleasure's mine."
He had an impression as menacing as Liston's.
The fact that he was missing an arm was a key point...
And the hook attached there—had he sharpened the edge...?
It glittered, and it looked like if you got caught on it, you'd die instantly.
"So, what do you think?"
"No need to worry now."
"But why does your face look like that?"
"I imagine the military side is similar."
"Haha. Probably not much different. In terms of hardship, aren't they both about the same?"
"I suppose that's true..."
I had already assumed it would be like that.
What army is there to speak of, anyway?
It was practically all navy.
And even among the ships led by the navy, many were sailing ships.
You might ask what the difference is between a sailing ship and a steamship.
You might think they all suffer equally out at sea.
'I used to think that way once, too.'
I briefly recalled the time I crossed the English Channel.
The weather happened to be terrible, and the wind wasn't blowing, so a journey that should have taken less than a day ended up taking three.
- Well, I'll be. Swimming would be faster, I tell ya.
I also remembered what Liston said, and it probably wasn't entirely a joke.
Anyway, that was a sailing ship...
It doesn't move by human power but by the power of the wind, right?
So, it allowed travel much farther than the days of rowing, enabling people to traverse the world...
But because it moves by wind power, it had the clear disadvantage of having to turn the sails according to the wind direction.
Moreover, you have to work when the wind blows, and does the wind care about human circumstances?
It blows as it pleases.
'Working at dawn, working at night...'
Because of that, there was literally no day or night.
If the captain says get up, you get up; if he says pull, you pull the sails.
If the work is that grueling, do they feed you well...?
We ate well.
It was already the era when Liston was cutting off limbs left and right, so we had plenty of money.
But our sailors... they ate potatoes with what seemed like dried meat so salty you'd have to wash it in seawater.
And it was considered fortunate to even get lime juice...
And besides juice, the liquid provided—that is, what they drank instead of water—was alcohol.
It was low-proof, but it was alcohol.
- Ah, ahh. Well, water goes bad, you see.
The reason was simple.
I heard that sailors all drink alcohol instead of water.
No wonder...
Their noses were all red... it wasn't a coincidence.
Once I thought the military would be similar, my thoughts raced chaotically toward the conclusion that I just needed to focus on treating the people who came to the hospital.
Ah, before that, I was curious why these people would come to the hospital, and the answer was quite simple.
"Huh? What do you think happens when you give an advance payment to friends who've had a hard life?"
"Savings...?"
"Savings? Hahahaha! You jest. Of course, they spend it all! We don't let them save! We."
The uncle laughed heartily at my words.
While saying something terrifying.
"Huh?"
"Booze, women! Gambling! What man can resist those? A hundred out of a hundred blow it all before even setting sail. There are some who don't, but we keep an eye on those fellows and promote them."
"But what if they don't show up then? Don't you get cheated?"
"Hahahaha."
He laughed this time too, but it felt somewhat grim.
It wasn't just my imagination.
In the 19th century, anyone without a frightening side... you could say they simply didn't exist.
Especially those who handled a decent amount of money and power, they were all like that.
Believing the uncle would be an exception was too naive a thought.
"We have all their personal details; how could they run? Don't underestimate the administrative power of the British Empire."
"Ah..."
"Besides, most of the senior sailors follow them around."
"But then, do they get sick?"
"Of course. Not all London prostitutes are like that, but... the kind of people they can afford, well, haha."
A real villain was right here.
Gang or no gang...
'Wait, you're saying they know ?'
And yet they just... like this...
Huh?
These are people who will become their sailors.
"Anyway, once they're in debt like that, even if they think life on the ship is harder than they imagined, what can they do? They can't get off! They have to repay the money."
"Ah... But then they won't want to sail again next time, right?"
"Huh? Haha. No. You haven't sailed for long, have you?"
"No, I haven't."
Even while shuddering at the evil deeds, the conversation continued.
Working at a hospital, you learn to keep a thread of rationality in any situation, and I could say it was all thanks to that.
"That's why you don't know. Out on the vast ocean... after suffering near-death hardships, when you finally set foot on land, you're too busy unleashing everything you held back rather than thinking about the future. It's the same not just in London but in any port in any country. So... some fellows actually end up deeper in debt the more they sail. They have to work under me forever, that's what it means."
"Ah..."
Is he the devil?
No, even Satan would call him 'Professor' and follow him around.
And judging by the fact that not a shred of shame could be detected on his face, this seemed to be the standard practice among 19th-century London shipowners.
Looking at the people chattering excitedly, I almost felt sorry for them...
'What can I do... I just have to cure their syphilis.'
They're already going to have a hellish time; shouldn't I at least cure their syphilis?
Besides, if what the uncle says is true, it means they'll meet people in every port they visit...
If they go around with syphilis, aren't they just living hosts?
It makes me think we should be locking up the sailors, not the chef.
Well, the chef could kill important people, and these fellows can't, so the police or higher-ups wouldn't care at all, but...
"I understand. Then, please send any patients over as soon as they appear."
"Right, right. I'd also prefer my sailors to be healthy. But you know."
"Yes."
"The military side is even more interested than I am. Soldiers are under stricter discipline than us... but when you actually face reality, things can't always be that black and white. They're men who have to fight for their lives immediately; can you just outright forbid everything?"
"Ah... There must be a huge number."
"Of course. The more battles a soldier has seen, the more it's true. So, here's the thing. This might even be sold as a military supply."
Military supply.
Isn't that traditionally the best way to make money?
Soldiers are a group that, by necessity, only consumes, and at the same time, it's hard to be stingy about spending money on them.
Moreover, the British Empire is constantly traversing every corner of the globe in real-time, engaged in combat, aren't they?
Not spending money on soldiers at war?
That's just crazy.
"Usually, the problem is getting skimmed off by middlemen, but for our business, thanks to you, we have Lord Jamie, don't we? No worries. You'll be sitting on a goldmine."
"Oh..."
"So, do your best to treat them with all your heart and sincerity. When you get to know them, they're all pitiful fellows, you see."
"I... I understand. Yes."
Making money and helping pitiful people.
In a way, it also felt like luring people who shouldn't have ended up there into a pit and pushing them in...
But I'm not the one doing it, right?
Someone said the one who benefits is the culprit...
But in this case, I'm truly wronged.
I have never, ever acted outside the duty of a doctor.
Well, I admit there might be some parts that seem a bit rough.
But it's all out of necessity.
It's all because I'm thinking of you, making you drink urine and eat shit, I'm telling you.
'Keu... This is truly a parent's heart...'
I ended up feeling proud of myself and let out a hearty laugh before heading back to the hospital.
The second floor was still swarming with prisoners.
It was to confirm the safe dosage.
And then, around the time the syphilis incubation period was ending... that is, after about ten days, the center became packed like a mountain of people and a sea of noise with the new sailors and recruits.
"Such insolence, you brats!"
On top of that, we had to treat the noble lords for diabetes in the morning, and they said we couldn't show such vulgar sights then, so we only saw them in the afternoon, making it feel like a full-blown marketplace.
It's incredibly tough, I tell you.
Even so, it was rewarding because...
"It's really working, isn't it?"
"My word... To think we're curing syphilis... and without killing the person!"
Our arsenic compound was showing results.