Trafalgar Square.
This square was built to commemorate Admiral Nelson's decisive victory in the 1805 Battle of Trafalgar.
To put it in our terms…
It's like Gwanghwamun Square, where Admiral Yi Sun-sin's statue stands—that level of significance.
And today, in such an important place, I was about to engage in a surgical showdown with Joseph.
To be honest, this wasn't my first time performing surgery in public.
I'd already done it multiple times before…
"Do well. Crush him completely."
The difference this time was that I was unmistakably the main protagonist.
As for Liston…
"I don't fancy performing such minor surgeries. Besides, the outcome is obvious, isn't it? It's not like you can properly reconstruct it anyway… Not my cup of tea."
He said he didn't like nose surgeries.
I could accept his opinion about disliking minor procedures—that was fair enough.
But saying he didn't want to do it because proper reconstruction wasn't possible…
'This bastard…'
Huh?
That didn't sit well with me at all.
A man who used to amputate limbs suddenly acting like this…
"Yes, I'll do my best."
Of course, I wasn't brave enough to voice my complaints in front of the Sword Master, so I responded as politely as possible and stepped forward.
The square…
Was already packed to the brim.
If we hadn't coordinated with the police beforehand, we probably wouldn't have been able to push through the crowd to reach the center.
But naturally, our group had no trouble moving forward.
"W-Who's pushing?!"
"Got a problem?"
"N-No, sir!"
Thanks to Liston.
"Oi! It's the Pyeong! The Blue Pyeong! Move aside if you value your lives!"
Ah… And me too.
"Police! Make way!"
And the police.
In any case, we finally reached the center of the square, where…
What exactly should I call this?
"An altar, it seems."
"Ah, yes. An altar."
As the director said, there was an altar.
It definitely wasn't there originally.
It looked like a hastily built wooden structure…
But it was tall enough that we had to climb up.
On top of it stood two patients, secured by the combined efforts of the director and the police.
I wasn't sure if it was obvious, but they were standing next to their respective beds.
The beds were different in shape—one was the operating table I usually used, and the other was Joseph's.
"Being German, his tools do look impressive."
Liston licked his lips as he eyed Joseph's operating table and the array of instruments beside it.
'Be careful, Joseph…'
There was a high chance all of that would get stolen.
Not to mention, both of us had staked a considerable amount of personal assets on today's match.
For me, it didn't matter much since the director was covering the risks, but Joseph was about to get completely fleeced.
"Alright, alright!"
Once Joseph and his entourage appeared on the opposite side, the man standing atop the altar raised his voice.
His face looked oddly familiar, and when I took a closer look…
He was from Parliament.
A member of Parliament, to be exact—and a fairly high-ranking one at that.
"Today, citizens, the long-awaited surgical duel is finally here!"
His voice boomed as if he were shouting at the top of his lungs.
And his script was… well, it was something.
He sounded less like a politician and more like a snake-oil salesman.
"On the right side… you all know him well!"
No, seriously, he really was a salesman.
His gestures were just…
"The mysterious doctor from Joseon—Noble Kim! The youngest physician to ever serve as a medical professor, co-discoverer of anesthesia alongside Sword Master Dr. Liston, and a man who has achieved feats in Paris comparable to the Battle of Trafalgar! Truly, a figure who inspires awe and terror!"
"Wooooah!"
"Long live the Pyeong!"
"Long live Noble Kim!"
That…
Was my introduction?
This wasn't some scam artist's spiel—this was Parliament's official introduction?
Shouldn't someone drag that bastard down?
I glanced at Liston, who, for some reason, looked smug.
His lips curled in a way I couldn't mistake.
"That's more like my little brother."
Don't smirk like that…
Now that I looked around, not just Liston but also Joseph, Alfred, and even Colin were puffing their chests out.
They were looking around as if saying, "See? We're friends with this guy!"
I didn't even know how to respond.
"And on the left… from Germany, Dr. Joseph! The savior of the Jews, a great man who specializes in fixing their despicable, vulgar noses!"
"Wooooah!"
"Kill those damn Jews! Why even fix them?!"
Ah.
Now that I heard it all…
Joseph's introduction wasn't much better.
Calling him a "savior" for operating on Jewish noses was shocking enough, but…
'Well, while the Nazis were the ones who massacred the Jews, discrimination against them was rampant across Europe.'
Take Shylock, for example.
He was clearly a villain, but his background as a Jew was a big part of it.
I hadn't met him yet, but…
He definitely seemed like the type obsessed with money.
"Alright… patients, please lie down."
"Yes, yes. The money…"
"Let's not discuss such vulgar matters now. We'll talk after."
"Ah, right… but still…"
"You already got some earlier, didn't you? I'll give you more later."
"Alright… understood."
After introducing both of us, the host had the two patients lie down on their respective beds.
From the looks of it, they had found patients who perfectly matched the conditions I requested.
Of course they had—the director and the police were in on it.
If you're worried about this collusion being exposed, you clearly don't understand the 19th century.
People in this era don't even know what "surgical indications" mean.
If there's a patient—just grab a knife and go!
In Joseph's case, if there's a Jew—grab a knife and go!
"Quite the spectacle, isn't it?"
Blundell, who had followed us, muttered while looking at Joseph's side.
And he wasn't wrong—Joseph had brought an absurd number of people.
Not just surgical assistants but…
"A blacksmith. Looks like he plans to operate with those biceps."
Liston identified one of the followers.
"Do you know him?"
"Nah, not really. His muscles just scream 'hammer-swinging' to me."
"Ah, I see."
"Looks German, though."
"Ah, got it."
A German blacksmith…
Now that I looked, he did seem stubbornly built—the kind who'd be good at his craft.
'I'm intrigued…'
How skilled must he be for Joseph to bring him along like this?
'Or maybe not?'
If he were that good, wouldn't he have settled down in a city somewhere?
Maybe he had some unavoidable circumstances forcing him to wander like this.
Who knew.
In any case, the important thing wasn't them—it was us.
I had no intention of losing, but…
This wasn't just about the duel—it was about the patients' surgeries.
"Patient."
"Yes."
"We'll reconstruct your nose. We'll use skin from your forehead…"
"Huh?"
"Once you wake up, it'll already be done."
"Uh…"
I did my best to explain the procedure to the patient.
Once I finished, Alfred turned the gas valve we had prepared earlier.
With a creaking sound, gas flowed out, and soon, the patient lost consciousness.
"And now—at this very moment! Noble Kim has begun anesthesia!"
"Wooooah!"
The live broadcast had begun.
Was this really that entertaining?
I turned my head away, then back again.
'Insane.'
Everyone's eyes were gleaming.
They were way too excited.
At this rate…
If someone announced, "Actually, this isn't surgery—it's an execution," they'd probably accept it without question.
No, scratch that.
They'd probably cheer for it.
I could guarantee that.
"Joseph."
"Yeah!"
We couldn't let ourselves get swept up in their frenzy.
We had to focus on doing what we needed to do—giving it our all.
We were doctors, after all.
If there was a patient in front of us… we had to devote ourselves to them.
Swish, swish.
Joseph…
Was seriously good at sterilization.
How could anyone wipe a face that thoroughly and quickly with just a cotton swab?
And he was meticulous, too.
Phenol wasn't dark in color, but it still left traces, right?
Watching the patient's entire face covered in those traces reminded me of watching artist Kim Jung-gi's live drawing shows.
"Good. Scalpel."
"Here."
Once sterilization was done, Colin, Joseph, and I began the surgery.
The procedure went like this:
First, I took the scalpel from Colin.
Then Joseph pulled the forehead skin taut to make the incision easier.
Sssk.
After making the first incision, I moved 2 cm sideways and repeated it.
I connected the two incisions at the top, then used a broader instrument to separate the skin from the frontal bone starting from the meeting point.
Tap.
Tap.
Peeling beneath the periosteum—sounds simple, but it's oddly satisfying if you've done it before.
Just push it gently, and the skin lifts right up.
Hard to describe, but…
Anyway, dissection is a fun process.
Of course, if you accidentally go above the periosteum, things get messy—but I'd been doing this long enough that I could manage it easily.
It wasn't that hard to begin with.
"Good. Suture."
"Here!"
Once the dissection was done, I rotated the forehead skin toward the nose.
"Joseph, you handle the top part."
"Got it."
While I sutured the forehead skin to the nasal defect, Joseph began closing the forehead incision to save time.
The longer the anesthesia gas was used, the worse the side effects became.
Memory loss, for one…
I'd had patients forget they'd even agreed to surgery after getting their limbs amputated.
Scary stuff.
'Not to mention, cognitive function seems to decline too…'
I'd heard reports about that.
In fact, it was common knowledge until the late 20th century that anesthesia could make you "dumber."
And according to anesthesiologists, it wasn't just a myth.
Thankfully, by the 21st century, improved drugs had mostly eliminated those side effects…
Which meant 19th-century drugs were far worse.
"Wow! For those who can't see up close—apologies, but… the nose! A nose is forming!"
And worse…
If we dragged this out, our insane host would definitely contaminate the surgical site.
Just now, a drop of saliva flew—Joseph caught it with his hand.
"Fuck."
"Is that a medical term?"
He cursed under his breath, but since the host had never heard the word before and couldn't imagine a Londoner cursing at him, he just asked curiously.
Before Joseph could curse again, I quickly lied.
"Yes. 'Hey, what the fuck?' means 'hand me that.'"
"Oh, right. Here."
He handed me the scissors, and I snipped the sutures.
The host watched and exclaimed:
"Did you see that just now? Amazing fuckery!"
I think…
I might have made a mistake.