Chapter 28

28th Episode. Finally, Pasteur (4)

****

The academic community was completely flipped upside down. Before the ripples of the cholera paper could settle, no—actually, before the shockwaves from the microscope paper had even subsided.

Two flips and we’re back to normal? No way. This was the third time now, so it’s safe to say everything is totally upside-down.

The medical field got pummeled three times in a row. All within about a month. And worse, this time it wasn’t even a proper paper.

The incident started with Anne, a graduate student who, as usual, was snooping around Professor Asterix’s novels. Anne looked pale as a ghost.

Bang!

Professor Croftler’s lab door swung open. In rushed Anne, drenched in sweat.

“Professor!”

“What’s wrong? Did someone die?”

Given how abruptly she burst in, it wasn’t unreasonable for Professor Croftler to assume the worst. But Anne shook her head furiously.

“T-the Miasma Theory! It was completely disproven during today’s lecture!”

“Anne, what are you talking about?”

It made no sense.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, there was talk of a lecture where one of the pillars of modern medicine had been debunked. Professor Croftler scratched his head.

“A- fungi hyphae with sprout-like heads—”

“Calm down. Take a deep breath and explain slowly.”

Anne gasped for air.

“Professor Asterix has been attacking the Miasma Theory ever since he arrived here, hasn’t he?”

“Yes.”

Like he had a personal vendetta against it. From day one, he claimed to have found micro-particles that cause plagues, argued that dysentery came from microscopic particles in water, and relentlessly attacked the theory every single day.

Even during undergraduate lectures.

“This time, he seems to have delivered the final rebuttal. He used two flasks filled with boiled meat broth—one sealed with water, the other left open. Naturally, only the open flask decayed.”

“Hmm, interesting, but not necessarily conclusive.”

“That’s not the issue. The problem is what happened next. When observing fungi under the microscope, structures designed to release spores were clearly visible.”

Professor Croftler frowned.

“Spores?”

“The reproductive units of fungi, tiny particles.”

The prevailing belief in academia was that fungi naturally occur in old food or as a reaction to miasma.

Though some opinions existed that fungi weren’t living organisms, another traditional assumption was being challenged—this time with verifiable methods.

“Proof of the existence of micro-particles causing decay, and an explanation of how they spread through the air… This might end the debate.”

Professor Croftler thought hard.

“So, you’re saying that during an undergraduate lecture, Professor Asterix observed these plague-causing particles directly and presented evidence that they float in the air?”

That seemed to be the case. Anne nodded enthusiastically.

“Hmm, good job gathering this information.”

Professor Croftler wasn’t someone to dismiss evidence lightly. If presented with solid proof, he could reconsider his views. Still…

Why would someone disrupt an undergraduate lecture just to debunk a cornerstone of modern medicine? It didn’t add up.

Is he insane?

“Isn’t it more likely that he tricked the students into believing something strange?”

“Well, I watched the swan-neck flask experiment closely, and the enlarged image of the fungi couldn’t possibly be faked.”

Anne had considered the possibility of tampering, but no flaws came to mind. Was there any way to manipulate a swan-neck flask? Or the fungal spores? They were impossible to fake.

“Seems like that.”

“No counterarguments come to mind.”

“Anne, do you really think there’s no counterargument? Should we switch sides?”

Anne nodded again. Professor Croftler rested his hand on his forehead and pondered.

Decay caused by fungi. More precisely, fungi are one of the causes of decay. A microscopic structure that spreads particles into the air was discovered, and an experiment showed that blocking their movement in sterilized solutions prevented decay.

It’s essentially a perfect rebuttal.

We’ll need to see the results published in the symposium journal, but if what Anne says is true, the symposium will be chaos once again.

“Go home, Anne. Good work today.”

“Thank you.”

Professor Croftler pulled out a pen and paper.

– On the Microscopic Structure of Fungi.

– Dear Professor Fisher, it’s said that during Professor Asterix’s undergraduate lecture, the microscopic structure of fungi was revealed under the microscope.

– They claim to have discovered a structure that disperses seed-like particles into the air, which ties into his ongoing hypothesis about particles causing plagues, inflammation, and decay.

– Have you seen anything similar, Professor Fisher? This hypothesis is so unfamiliar that it’s hard to believe without further investigation.

****

Imperial Princess Mint was sitting on my sofa today instead of my desk.

“Hey.”

“Uh… I mean, excuse me! Greetings, Your Imperial Highness!”

“Good.”

Today, she was dressed in her usual academy uniform. Her hair was tied into a ponytail, and she wore a cardigan over a white shirt.

Her skirt wasn’t particularly short, but since she was sitting cross-legged, a bit of leg showed. Her necktie hung loosely around her collar like a snake she’d caught.

Actually, the first thing that caught my eye was the tie.

“At least tie your necktie properly. You look like a delinquent.”

“Eh? Really?”

Mint fiddled with her tie and fixed it.

“So, what brings you here today?”

“To teach me.”

“With all due respect, how can I teach something I’ve never learned myself?”

“Can’t you?”

It might be difficult.

“This is a great opportunity to become the Royal Advisor. Be my tutor. Subjects can be studied, nothing too complicated. You’re smart enough.”

I don’t know what the princess thinks of me. Sometimes she treats me like a guard dog. Other times, she looks at me with concern like when I catch a cold. Occasionally, she expects me to solve every problem…

But I can’t solve everything. Plus, I’m busy.

“No, Your Highness, I’m busy.”

“So, you won’t do it?”

“Yes.”

“Hmph. What a pity.”

“Your Highness, forgive me for asking, but do you plan to leave my lab anytime soon?”

“That’s your problem. Every time I see you, it’s ‘When will the princess leave?’ or ‘Princess, please go.’ If you met a sovereign, wouldn’t you inquire about their well-being or try to be friendly?”

Every time I attempt small talk, you criticize me for saying pointless things. I’d like to comply with your wishes, but I don’t quite understand what you want.

“How was your class today, Your Highness?”

“Pointless chatter.”

Are you trying to make me laugh right now?

“If you want to negotiate, act like a superior. State your request and offer a reasonable exchange.”

“You be my Royal Advisor. I won’t leave until you agree.”

That’s just throwing a tantrum.

I locked eyes with Mint. She had the relaxed gaze of someone with plenty of time—and the determined spark of someone set on winning.

“Your Highness isn’t a child.”

“So what if I am? I’ll pay you generously.”

“Isn’t that technically a ‘friend fee’?”

“What’s a friend fee?”

I closed my mouth.

Explaining would probably lead to undesirable results. Though I often test Mint’s limits, I don’t want to genuinely upset her.

Besides, it feels like bullying a kid. With a reluctant sigh, I gave in.

“Fine. Starting next week, I’ll help you study. See you then.”

“Did you eat dinner yet?”

“Yes.”

“Can’t you eat again?”

“No thanks.”

Everything else aside, I need to get back to work. I grabbed Mint’s sleeve and gently pulled her up. She glared at me with a pout.

Using the book in my hand, I gently ushered her out of the lab. Grumbling something under her breath, Princess Mint finally left.

Still, why does she act so spoiled and bratty only around me while behaving relatively normally around others? It’s baffling.

****

Meanwhile, in the hallway outside Asterix’s lab…

Princess Mint stood looking down at a girl sitting on the floor, surrounded by scattered papers, clutching her head in despair. Istina looked up.

“Eep! Good day, Your Highness!”

“Do you enjoy sitting on the floor?”

“Yes, I enjoy the floor—no, not at all!”

“Why are you sitting here then?”

She swallowed the urge to say, “Because of you, Your Highness.” Istina wasn’t the type to say such things—or even consider saying them.

Princess Mint walked away, giving the poor girl on the floor and the nearby lab a curious glance. Istina gathered her belongings and sighed.

So pitiful. Something important seemed to be happening inside, but interrupting their fun felt like risking the princess’s wrath. Yet, failing to promptly enter the lab felt like risking the professor’s anger.

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