Diabetes.
In Joseon, this disease was called "sogalbyeong" (wasting-thirst disease). Except for Type 1 diabetes, which is a congenital insulin deficiency, it's generally a disease you get from eating too much.
Among other things, it's closely linked to alcohol, sugar, and greasy foods.
Of course, even if you eat like that, you're less likely to get it if you move your body a lot.
That means it's a disease that tends to affect people who can eat a lot and don't have to move their bodies.
These days, modern rich people might actually have more opportunities to exercise, but the 19th century isn't like that.
"So, you're really saying this can cure it?"
"If my thinking is correct, yes. But first, I need to give an injection. Would you mind stepping aside?"
"Ah, yes. Of course."
"Surely you're not diabetic yourself, Director?"
"Me? No, fortunately not. But I know quite a few people who are."
It's a disease of the rich.
In Joseon, another name for sogalbyeong was "bujabyeong" (rich man's disease), wasn't it?
Even here, it's no different.
Which is to say, it's a disease of the high-born.
It also means that even those who consider ailments like traumatic amputations or diarrheal diseases to be from a completely different world can still get this diabetes.
Is that why?
The Director just won't leave.
"Ah... Who is it?"
If you ask me if I dislike it, of course I don't.
If the esteemed gentlemen need me, huh? I should consider it an honor.
Didn't my position in this hospital skyrocket after just doing one anatomy show?
I even became a professor.
But if it's not a show... if I actually cure diseases?
Then what on earth would happen?
Thinking about how well Damian or Sir Jamie treat me, my life would be set, truly.
"Well... There are several in Parliament too. And nobles in the London suburbs... so go ahead and try it quickly."
"Understood. Hyung-nim?"
"Hmm."
Liston?
Liston's face is also filled with a smile.
It's unavoidable.
Money and power.
Where on earth is there anyone who dislikes these things?
Well, I'm just pretending to want them so I can use them to save more people.
"Alright, here comes the injection."
Anyway, isn't insulin a drug that can't be taken orally?
So, while it's not a proper syringe...
Anyway, I made a syringe.
Well, people from the 21st century would be shocked if they saw it.
First, it's metal.
There's no plastic, so what can you do?
At least it's not iron; I made it from copper.
So it wouldn't rust...
Ah, the needle had to be made of steel, no way around it.
"Yelp!"
"Fuck, you scared me."
It wasn't a modern needle.
For one, it's thick.
I did sharpen the end, making it斜角 (diagonal/beveled), but with current technology, I couldn't make it like the syringe needles I'd seen back then.
"It'll hurt, I suppose."
"Indeed. This... you're saying I should stick this into Sir Jamie's stomach?"
"Yes."
"You'll do it, right?"
"Huh?"
"Should I have Alfred do it?"
"Let's have one of the three do it. Wouldn't Colin like it? To get revenge, too."
"Ah, he drank piss. He is a noble too, though."
"Exactly."
So, the dog that was dying of diabetes barked loudly and clearly, like just now, because it hurt so much.
If I exaggerate a bit, it's like an awl, so...
The resulting infection risk is also a serious concern.
I don't know if it's something to be thankful for, but anyway, if they need to sterilize and get the injection, they'll have to come to the hospital.
'Every day... well... we'll have to do it as part of the experiments for now, and later train people to do it.'
If I just say "sterilize it" now, what would they do?
What would they do?
I'm suddenly curious.
What does "sterilization" mean to the average person?
They might cauterize it with fire.
Think I'm joking?
I'm serious.
"Yelp!"
While I was lost in thought for a moment, Liston hyung-nim called over the dogs I'd made diabetic and started jabbing them repeatedly.
Ah, what did I inject?
I guess you'd call it a boiled cow pancreas solution...
Anyway, it's 1 ounce of water that I firmly believe is full of insulin.
Ounce...
It's a bit less than 30 mL, but since no one would understand that, I just made it that way.
Why did I do that?
I don't know either.
We just have to try it and see.
"We'll have to see, right?"
"Yes. We need to check what the urine is like tomorrow."
"But... can we tell by whether ants are attracted to it? Um... wouldn't ants be attracted even if there's just a little sugar?"
"That's the thing."
"Don't tell me..."
"What choice do we have?"
A gentleman named Matthew Dobson did develop a method for detecting sugar in urine.
But it's...
Really difficult.
It's not like in the 21st century where you just roughly touch a paper stick to it; it requires too much time and manpower.
Besides, what we need to find out now isn't just whether sugar is present or not, but whether the amount has decreased.
Quantitative tests are inherently difficult.
"Even so, are we going to use Colin again?"
"No, no. Colin is a bit… it's not human urine, it's dog urine, right?"
"Exactly. How could you even think of that?"
"That's why we need to feed it to someone else."
"Who..."
"Let's ask the police. There are plenty of criminals, aren't there?"
"Ah. Should we make them drink it in front of the victims?"
"Will… will it be okay if this gets out?"
"Why wouldn't it be? It's punishing bad guys. But we'll probably need one guy to keep drinking it, right? To compare the taste."
"Right. So actually, it would be best if a doctor did it, but..."
"Even so, our students… Alfred already had a urinary catheter inserted and suffered so much. No matter that it was for you..."
"No, I'm not planning on doing that either, you know?"
After some twists and turns, we managed to get a murderer and robber brought before us through the police.
His arms and legs were tied.
The policeman looked somewhat uneasy.
It was because the criminal was notoriously vicious.
But it was an unfounded fear.
"Don't tell me, Liston… then is this the one?"
"Well. Do you know me?"
"P-please, spare me! I'll do anything!"
"Hmm."
Why is he like that?
I think I can guess.
"Ah, no. You can kill me if you want, but please, not the dress! Such humiliation… I can't!"
"Ah, it's not that. You can relax."
Liston chuckled and patted the guy on the shoulder.
Well…
He patted him a bit too hard, so the guy's face quickly contorted in pain.
However, in the 19th century, robbery and murder targeting the poor wasn't a capital offense if you negotiated well, so he couldn't hit him harder than that.
He was just hitting him enough to make him obedient.
Liston is truly the best in the world at this sort of thing, so I just watched with a face full of trust.
"Here, drink this first."
It was water containing the urine the dog had passed before the insulin injection.
Getting that…
Getting that wasn't easy either.
If you just give a dog a cup and tell it to pee here, it doesn't really work like that.
They're weak, so it just dribbles onto the floor, so you have to pick it up, hold its… thing, and aim it into the cup for it.
"Fuck…"
"Fuckers…"
It's not for nothing that those curses were heard from the hallway.
Joseph and Alfred went through the trouble.
Joseph held it, and Alfred… got aimed at.
But you can't just tell someone to drink this.
"Wh-what is this?"
"This is dog…"
"Huh?"
"Ah, Hyung-nim!"
If I say it's dog piss, even a prisoner, would he just drink it?
He might lie, thinking it's a trick, or he might just spit it all out.
Yes, this is a time for a white lie.
Not coercion.
"Huh?"
"Let me explain."
"Ah… alright."
Did he read my expression?
Liston chuckled and stepped aside.
Seizing the moment, I began to spin a tale.
It's really strange.
I hadn't thought about it at all until just now, but it just came out.
"It's… a beverage we're developing... no, a medicine. It's medicine."
"Medicine?"
"Yes. Medicine."
"What kind…?"
Well.
What kind of medicine?
For some reason, the opium tincture I'd taken came to mind.
"It seems like it could cure and prevent everything: colds, asthma, diabetes, tuberculosis, cancer, you name it."
"Uh… oh…! I'd like to give some to my mother."
Don't talk about your mom, you piece of shit who killed people and ended up here…
It makes me soft-hearted.
Hmm.
Not feeling so soft-hearted?
Well, just looking at his face, he seems like a real bastard.
If Liston looks scary, this guy looks evil.
"Yes, yes. You do that... For now, our goal is a medicine that isn't too sweet."
"Why? Isn't sweeter better?"
"Because it wouldn't seem like medicine then."
"Uh… is that so?"
"What, are you planning to drink it while wearing a dress?"
"No, no! Absolutely not!"
Watching the prisoner behave like a meek lamb, the policeman, who had been uneasy until just now, seemed somewhat relieved.
What kind of place is this, that a single prisoner would dare to act out?
In the very next room, huh?
They're still dissecting, you know.
It's a place where dozens of madmen put knives to corpses every day, that's what it is.
"Here, try drinking it."
"Yes."
I wonder what dog piss really tastes like?
To be precise, what does the urine of a diabetic dog taste like?
Apparently, I wasn't the only one curious. Liston, the policeman who knew the circumstances, and the students who had just been cursing while handling the pee all gathered and stared at the prisoner.
Gulp.
The urine went down the prisoner's throat.
"Huh?"
His expression was much brighter than expected.
Come to think of it, if he was in a London jail and came here, his mood probably wasn't bad just for that.
Besides, he has to stay here for a while starting today.
If he knew the reality…
Well, if he knew there were corpses lying just a wall away, his feelings might change a bit, but anyway, that's how he seemed now.
"It's sweet? It's tasty. To think this is medicine."
"It, it's tasty?"
"Yes."
"I see. I see."
Liston looked at the prisoner with a fascinated expression.
Me?
I recalled the story of Monk Wonhyo drinking from a skull.
Humans…
It makes you think we're creatures even more governed by preconceptions than you'd expect.
'With this, I guess we don't have to worry about the experiment.'
When the prisoner was told he just had to do this, his expression brightened even more.
Common sense would dictate…
If the price for getting out of jail and staying here is having to continuously consume something, you should suspect that something is pretty disgusting.
But he didn't seem to think that way.
It wasn't strange.
This is a world where common sense doesn't apply, right?
So we just left him tied up there—after Liston told him he'd be dead if he tried to run, of course—and went outside.
The policeman also stayed behind.
Only the policeman was given a bed; the prisoner had to sleep on the floor, but he didn't seem to have any particular complaints about that either.
"How's this one?"
"It's… not as tasty as yesterday's?"
"Really?"
"Yes."
And so, the days passed.
"How's this?"
"What… what is this? It's too disgusting?"
Then, around the fourth day, a big change occurred.
"This one?"
"Ugh."
We laughed as we watched the prisoner vomit.
To be honest, we kinda expected this even before feeding it to him.
The dog looks healthy, after all.
The question now is whether humans will also recover at this concentration…
"Officer."
"Yes?"
"Could you put out a wanted notice for prisoners who… view sweet urine?"
"Huh?"
I think we need to experiment with this a bit too.