Chapter 59

Episode 59: These Days, College Students…

Violet might actually be right.

Is the academic community about to flip again?

So far, in this world’s academia, many physiological actions, including immune responses, have been perceived as continuous and abstract entities.

The four cardinal directions, the four basic elements, and the four types of bodily humors—exemplified by the humorism theory that tried explaining diseases through their interactions.

But reality isn’t like that. The human body is built like bricks of cells, with cellular mechanisms governed by chemistry.

Disease vectors aren’t miasmas but tiny particles, and what fights diseases inside the body are microscopic warriors smaller than a strand of hair.

Certainly, emergent and continuous phenomena exist that can’t be explained by reductionist components—true for both my old world and this one.

But… even if there are anomalies or exceptions, and they’re strong enough to overshadow and render basic universal rules meaningless…

That doesn’t mean those fundamental rules don’t exist. At least, that’s how I understand it.

But if all we do is keep announcing new theories during class, when will we ever get through the syllabus?

Let’s just skim over it with some kind of essay or descriptive test. Then I won’t have to worry about making exam questions or anything, right?

And grading? I can just hand that off to Istina.

The important thing is this: once thoughts are spoken aloud, you can’t take them back—and judging from the situation, there’s a good chance they’ll spread like wildfire throughout the academic community.

If I want to lead the direction of research in academia—if I want to stay ahead of those who’ve heard me speak—then not only do I need to keep producing studies, but I also need to give them so much research material and food for thought that they can’t catch up.

Right now, Professor Klaus is already spending time looking into bacteria and dyes.

Anyway.

Today’s lecture was, as always, a huge success.

Of course, since doctors are inherently combative and mistrustful people, instead of standing ovations, sharp questions were hurled at me—but that’s proof my research is revolutionary.

It’s unfortunate. When a master pianist finishes playing, everyone stands and applauds.

But after a medical lecture that changes the history of this world, people bombard you with rebuttals and questions like they’ve met their parents’ worst enemy.

If that didn’t happen, it wouldn’t be a lecture that could change the world.

“Professor?”

“Hmm?”

“Professor, you said blood isn’t made in the liver, right? So where does it come from then? It’s not just a simple liquid—it’s something with living cells moving around.”

Good question.

I think I explained this before…? But I don’t quite remember. Even if I did discuss it last time, I doubt we made any clear progress.

“It’s made in the bones. Remember when I asked you to bring a femur? That was so we could observe bone marrow.”

“Bone marrow, huh? Did it work?”

I shook my head. The executed criminal had probably been dead for about a day, and the bone marrow cells had already deteriorated beyond recognition.

We’d need fresh bone marrow, but getting that isn’t exactly easy. Should I wait at the execution grounds and extract it immediately after death? That seems legally and ethically problematic.

Extracting it from living people isn’t impossible, but it’s extremely painful and carries a significant risk of serious side effects like infection. Not an examination worth doing purely for research purposes.

Well, if I think about it long enough, I’m sure I’ll figure out a way.

“If my idea works, observing fresh bone marrow under a microscope should let us directly see the hematopoietic cells that make blood. Probably?”

I’ve never observed bone marrow myself, but theoretically, that’s correct.

Would staining the bone marrow cells help make them more visible?

“Professor, may I go home for a bit?”

“Hm? Sure.”

Istina left the lab looking relieved. What’s she got going on? Oh, right. People do need to go home periodically.

Guess I’ll have to do it myself for a day or two.

***

There are a few loose ends to tie up.

I need to finish writing the scurvy paper. Speaking of which, someone comes to mind when I think about that paper.

“Hello, professor.”

Hedwig was standing in a corner of the lab.

Hedwig has been busy these past few days: walking around the wards, conducting research with Istina, and even catching an outpatient consultation once.

She’s been like an invisible shadow. Hard to tell how much effort she’s put in. Is she studying a lot?

Or maybe stealing research?

“I apologize for the misdiagnosis of plague in Imentia that caused harm.”

“That’s fine. It wasn’t your fault. Accurate diagnosis usually requires time, equipment, and input from multiple experts.”

Hedwig nodded.

“In any case, I’ve learned a lot from spending a few days at the academy hospital. I also attended your lecture from last time. Uh, how did you think about creating gravity 300 times stronger?”

“It’s a method I tried before.”

“I came here to learn from you, but… wow. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to match you, even if I study my whole life! For now, I’d like to assist you.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”

Hedwig seemed pretty shocked by something you said last time in Imentia. Or maybe she was shocked by realizing her own mistakes?

I awkwardly scratched my head.

Hedwig sat down on the couch.

“When I return to the imperial military hospital, I’ll have a lot to teach my colleagues. First, I’ll properly persuade them about your research. If we look at the academic field with a new perspective, we might discover something new.”

“Exactly.”

“But, professor, aren’t you interested in nurturing future scholars? It’s a shame you only have one graduate student so far.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I straightened my posture.

“Do you have any plans?”

“Eh, I could use my connections to find people who want to join your lab.”

That sounds good.

I stood up.

“Really?”

“Eh, yes…?”

“Even if it’s just a little, I’d really appreciate it if you could help me look. Lately, I’ve been worried because no one wants to pursue graduate studies.”

“That’s true. These days, young college students avoid hard work but still hate being looked down on for having short purse strings.”

Where did that old man speak come from?

Miss Hedwig. Judging by appearances, you’ve got at least twenty years before you start talking like that. Are you older than you look, or is it just your personality?

I wondered internally: how old is Teacher Hedwig? I thought she was around Istina’s age, but maybe not?

“Eh, yeah.”

I decided to play along for now.

***

Ward. It’s time for the opium-addicted priest Tirielle, who was admitted a few days ago, to be discharged.

“Tirielle, do you know why I restrained you and administered all the naloxone?”

Tirielle nodded.

“I am truly grateful for saving me.”

“I know it hurts. They say administering all the naloxone to wake someone up is incredibly painful for opium addicts. Still, I did it anyway.”

There are two main reasons.

“Yes.”

“One: To maximize your chances of survival. Opium was interfering with your breathing.”

“I understand.”

“Two… and I’ll be blunt here, I had no intention of letting you wake up peacefully without any pain. Administering naloxone does hurt, but…”

Punitive dosing is forbidden. But…

To elaborate: in cases of habitual opioid use, the parasympathetic nervous system might be compensatorily suppressed.

Because of the calming effect of opioids, the body’s natural calming functions are weakened.

For such individuals, when the effects of opioids suddenly disappear, the sympathetic nervous system might overreact due to the pain response.

Meaning, upon waking, they could become overly excited and aggressive. In places like the U.S., where there are many drug addicts, it’s not uncommon to restrain patients while administering naloxone.

As tolerance builds, that pain will eventually become part of daily life. But the likelihood of dying from opium addiction before then is much higher.

“I intellectually understand. It was wrong, and it was akin to gambling with life.”

Tirielle bowed deeply, but I shook my head. That’s not the issue.

“Administering opium isn’t gambling with life. It’s gambling with the absence of pain. As tolerance builds, the pain you felt a few days ago when you woke up will become everyday life.”

“Is that so… Terrifying.”

Though I digressed a bit…

“According to healer principles, I won’t inform the temple of your offenses. Please visit the hospital every four months from now on.”

“Thank you.”

The patient bowed deeply again.

“Congratulations on your discharge, Tirielle. Take care of your medication. And remember, if you take the medicine I gave you and then use opium, you’ll die. Do you understand?”

“Eh, yes. Thank you.”

I think I scared him enough.

This is really all I can do for him. The patient, wearing his priest robes and carrying his bag, left the hospital.

People can’t be fixed, but fixing people is my entire job.

Still… I hope everything turns out well for him.