Chapter 24

24. This Class is Ours to Dominate (2)

****

This is my lecture hall.

Istina submitted a paper on epidemic dysentery for peer review within the academic community. And now…

Professors, intrigued by said paper, have uninvitedly commandeered my classroom.

Though I found their rudeness irksome, I resolved to take it positively. After all, this shows how bright the future of medicine in this world truly is, does it not?

There’s one key difference between medicine and other sciences: results ultimately matter most. Healing isn’t engineering or even pure science—it’s an art.

The lecture hall briefly fell silent before the gathered academics began murmuring amongst themselves.

“I wonder what Lord Lapis thinks about this.”

I glanced back at the room.

“Well… though it feels odd to say, shouldn’t we be asking about the results rather than the ruler’s opinion if we’re talking about healers?”

Oliver bowed his head.

“My apologies.”

It wasn’t something he should feel sorry about to me, though.

“Anyway, after implementing the quarantine measures I mentioned, there have been no new cases of dysentery reported in Lord Lapis’s territory within a week.”

“Yes.”

Once more, Professor Croftler raised his hand.

“If preventative measures against dysentery were effective, what methods did you use for treatment and how effective were they?”

While Croftler’s intent felt somewhat irritating, it was still a necessary question—one worth reiterating for emphasis.

Isn’t there a saying that even anti-fans are fans?

“The direct cause of epidemic dysentery is dehydration. We mixed salt and a bit of alcohol into water and distributed it among patients.”

“Is that the entirety of your treatment method?”

“For most patients, yes—that’s the crucial part.”

“Hmm…”

I could almost guess why they sighed. Who here would’ve thought the solution could be so simple? No one would’ve imagined that adding a drop of liquor to water could be all it takes.

And knowing how many patients died without such knowledge—this must be yet another hard-to-accept, uncomfortable truth.

With a quiet sigh, I asked:

“Any further questions?”

At this point, I’d done my best. I answered every question, some twice over, and provided ample experimental evidence.

If they still don’t believe… well, I’ll just have to aim for the next paper. Likely orchestrated by Professor Croftler today, I turned my head toward him.

“Professor Croftler?”

“Not really… nothing else.”

“In that case, since class time seems over, I’ll take my leave.”

Victory is mine.

I exited the lecture hall with Istina in tow, leaving behind the bustling professors, graduate students, and undergraduates scurrying away like startled mice.

****

After the undergrads fled the moment class ended, only the professors and grad students remained to continue their heated discussion.

No special reason existed; they simply started debating while gathered.

Amidst the chaotic murmurs, Professor Croftler broke the ice.

“Who exactly is this professor?”

“He’s just a rockhead who leveraged his position as royal physician to talk down to academia without any respect.”

“But didn’t he cure the imperial princess?”

The debate raged on sharply divided—those claiming he’s just a rockhead, those questioning whether he truly healed the princess, and others challenging the validity of such claims.

Not only his theories but also his origins and past came under scrutiny. Though little was known…

“Did anyone send a letter to Lord Lapis regarding this? What did Lord Lapis think about these theories? Did they yield results?”

Again, attention inevitably shifted to that topic. Had the policies based on Professor Asterisk’s theory proven effective?

Professor Croftler nodded. As a stickler for principles, he had naturally sent letters to verify claims.

“I did. Lord Lapis praised highly. Thanks to that healer, hundreds, perhaps thousands of lives were saved, and his territory preserved. He considers himself proven.”

Specifically:

– “Are you speaking of Professor Asterisk? I formed an impression of him as an exceptionally skilled healer.”

– “At first, I was skeptical, but since the incubation period for epidemic dysentery is around a day, he insisted that listening to him for just a day wouldn’t harm anything.”

– “His logic was impossible to ignore. If implemented, results would be evident within a day, making it hard to reject his proposal to decide the next day.”

– “I believe Professor Asterisk has saved my territory. Should you meet him, please convey my regards.”

– “Also, inquire if he plans to visit the Lapis territory. Oh, do you have any personal connection with Professor Asterisk?”

Such was Lord Lapis’s response.

“That doesn’t count as valid proof.”

“Hmm. Wasn’t it Professor Asterisk who invented the microscope too? It’s uncertain how similar research might turn out.”

“It appears the effectiveness is factual.”

“Is there any professor here who can build a microscope? Finding the bacteria responsible for dysentery would settle things, wouldn’t it? For Professor Asterisk’s sake too.”

“Well… Regardless, this has completely shaken up the academic community. Whether one agrees or disagrees with Professor Asterisk’s stance, arguments must be backed by solid evidence, right?”

That’s the conclusion.

Even those who believe Professor Asterisk’s words are false must attempt to disprove them using his methodology. Similarly, those who believe them true must also try to disprove them.

Upon reflection, regardless of belief in Professor Asterisk’s claims, everyone ends up performing the same research.

This alone marks Professor Asterisk’s complete triumph. Whether right or wrong has already become irrelevant. Even if proven incorrect, Professor Asterisk merely needs to accept the refutation.

Conversely, everyone here must validate their claims using his approach.

“Will the journal publish the paper? Anyway, this is a paper everyone needs to read, given its apparent efficacy.”

The assembled professors nodded.

****

The lecture concluded.

The hospital ward only had cold patients left.

Today, there’s not much to do.

Ideally, publishing papers by Pasteur and Lister to provide irrefutable evidence supporting germ theory would be great—but the ripple effects of the epidemic dysentery paper haven’t settled yet.

Perhaps waiting half a month would be wise.

“Istina, do you think students inspired by my lecture will suddenly flock to join my graduate program? What do you think?”

Istina shook her head vigorously.

“Wouldn’t hearing that lecture make people scream in terror at just the mention of your name?”

Come on, that’s a bit extreme, isn’t it?

“Really, that bad?”

“It felt like defending a thesis in front of hundreds. Even though I didn’t say a word, I still felt the pressure.”

Ah, I see.

I looked at Istina.

“Guess no takers for grad school, huh?”

“Probably not.”

“What should we do? Maybe hire a TA?”

A TA wouldn’t help much.

To assist Istina, one would need to handle ward duties. Without being a healer or capable of healing, one couldn’t contribute effectively to ward work…

“Istina, do you have any friends?”

“Friends? If they’re friends, I wouldn’t suggest they come to grad school—”

*Cough*

“Can’t think of anyone.”

“Understood. Carry on.”

I sighed. Perhaps I should kidnap someone with a chloroform-soaked handkerchief.

“Oh, professor! Lord Lapis seems to have sent a letter. There’s a thick envelope with two wax seals…”

“Really? What’s it about?”

Istina pulled out the envelope from her robe sleeve. Checking the seals, one was attached to the string in the corner, the other on the envelope’s opening.

After breaking the seal and reading the letter:

– “Hello, Professor Asterisk.”

– “I heard about your published research on epidemic dysentery. Your work is currently under evaluation by the academic community, but they sought my opinion as well. I’ve praised you as much as possible.”

– “I understand you’re acquainted with Professor Croftler. Hopefully, my letter aids your research and contributes to the advancement of medicine.”

Acquaintance? What nonsense. Professor Croftler merely sent a letter for peer review, which was misinterpreted as a sign of friendship.

A minor misunderstanding.

– “My offer still stands. If you ever wish to work together, feel free to visit anytime.”

Still holding onto hope, aren’t you? If you wanted me, you’d go to the palace—not the Lapis territory.

– “Regardless, I’d welcome a casual visit anytime. Aren’t you the benefactor who saved our territory?”

– “Sincerely, Lord Lapis.”

I folded the letter and placed it on my desk. If I ever need money, I might have to borrow from there.

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