Chapter 93

93. Too Many Reasons

****

Mint was lounging beside the doll, arms crossed and posture slouchy. Sure, no complaints about having to admit a patient, but the one Mint brought back is… around her age? A girl, no less.

Isn’t that kinda weird? Not like there needs to be some super-logical reason for feeling uneasy about it or anything.

Next time I see the teacher, I should definitely tell them… though if I say something, it’ll probably just end badly. Maybe I need to act friendlier—or at least more convincingly so.

****

Already morning. Time to do rounds through the hospital wing. By my side was Istina; Amy said she took leave due to urgent matters.

Anyway, among admitted patients today, there’s only Erzabet. She was lying there peacefully, not looking uncomfortable at all.

“Is the hospital food okay?”

“Yes.”

“How about your mood?”

“It’s fine, but when can I be discharged?”

It’s unrealistic to expect dramatic improvement in symptoms within such a short hospital stay. Managing Wilson’s Disease takes days, sometimes even months before seeing results.

“A week. It’s not that you’ll recover in a week—it’s the time needed to adjust your diet and monitor the effects of the medication.”

“Oh, will the golden ring around my pupil go away too?”

What’s with this sudden question? Patients occasionally ask things that aren’t covered in textbooks—queries you’d never think of.

Erzabet mentioned before how much she liked the golden ring encircling her pupils. At the time, I thought she was joking.

“I don’t know. It might take months, or even years. But if treatment goes well, it could disappear within a few years.”

“Can’t you make sure it doesn’t disappear?”

“Well…”

I have no idea. Ideally, I’d like to accommodate her wishes, but is that even possible?

If we were in modern times, I’d suggest custom lenses, but this world doesn’t seem to have colored contact lenses. Honestly, I’m not even clear why she wants to keep the golden ring.

“To be honest, I’m not sure about that part. Perhaps you could try getting glasses? Something stylish.”

Erzabet nodded her head.

I glanced at Istina again.

“Was there anything unusual about the patient yesterday?”

“Nope. Her pulse was normal, as was her body temperature. Nothing stood out.”

That’s good news. Though honestly, this patient isn’t in a condition where their health could drastically worsen day by day.

“In that case, I’ll see you tomorrow. Oh, and remember: you must take all your medicine! Drink plenty of water.”

It would be great if we could expect immediate symptom improvements, but unfortunately, that seems unlikely. This looks like it’ll be a long battle.

“Oh, one more thing.”

“Yes?”

“Do you absolutely have to return home?”

“Huh?”

Erzabet looked confused.

I scratched my head slightly. Come on, going back to that mansion would only put her in an unhealthy environment both mentally and physiologically.

Maybe attending the Academy instead wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

“If possible… why don’t you continue attending the Academy? You’re going to have to eventually anyway, and who knows when you might fall ill again or when you’ll need to visit the Academy hospital.”

“I see. I’ll discuss it with my parents.”

“It’s ultimately up to you, of course.”

Attending the Academy would also benefit Erzabet if she plans to become the head of her family or climb the social ladder. Plus, it’d make receiving treatment easier.

“But why?”

“The mansion of the duchess is simply an unhealthy environment for you. Whether it’s illness mimicking from others, mold, contaminated rye, or lead-laden cosmetics.”

Erzabet stared off into the distance.

“Leaving an environment that could worsen your condition can itself be considered part of the treatment.”

“I’ve never thought of it that way. And I certainly haven’t considered leaving home…”

“After much deliberation, the conclusion remains clear: the problem lies with the mansion itself. Please move out.”

This is my final diagnosis.

“My mind feels cluttered.”

“Take your time to think it over. Your parents’ opinions matter too. However, my medical judgment stands firm: don’t return to the mansion for now.”

With that, the consultation concluded.

I left the ward with Istina. Erzabet lay quietly on her bed, lost in thought. What choice will she make?

****

A rare moment of peace had arrived. Sitting in my research lab, I sipped coffee bought by Istina—of course, paid for with my own money.

“I have a question.”

“Sure.”

“What do you do if a patient lies?”

“It depends on the situation.”

“For example?”

“Well, first, there are cases where you shouldn’t respond at all. If the patient has schizophrenia or something similar, making them see reason might be impossible. In those situations, you just nod along with ‘Ah, I see.’”

“I see. Why though?”

“If trying to persuade them won’t work, then correcting them outright achieves nothing and risks damaging the relationship. You let it slide without endorsing their delusions or illusions.”

“I see. What if it’s not a mental illness, but just a stubborn patient who refuses to listen?”

“In that case, you need to be firm.”

Istina nodded.

“You know, if it weren’t for the elder two princesses, I might have never imagined they were faking illnesses. I’d probably have spent ages pondering what was wrong and returned empty-handed.”

“That’s also a valid approach. The most important thing is ensuring no harm comes to the patient. You don’t want them injured because they got riled up against the doctor.”

“That’s true.”

“Anyway, verify whether the patient is lying. Detecting lies in patients works similarly to detecting lies in other people.”

“Does it?”

“Test them, contradict them, look for evidence. There’s no special trick to it.”

Understanding the disease thoroughly is key.

The deductive process I used back at the mansion might’ve seemed like magic to someone unfamiliar with it. Even though figuring out what to observe and piecing together answers afterward may appear simple in hindsight.

“So, why did you reveal all the lies at once during the final confrontation? Was there a specific reason, or just randomly?”

“Because it’s fun.”

“Ah.”

“Just kidding. There were two reasons: First, there needed to be a conversation about the things family members were hiding from each other. Second, the patient’s guardians were concealing far too many things.”

“Oh. Genetic diseases?”

“Exactly. Since the third daughter was adopted, she might have different characteristics. That was crucial information—but it was hidden.”

“You mean, Professor saw that just by looking at her eyes?”

Istina sighed deeply, twirling her hair absentmindedly, suddenly serious.

“When will I be able to do things like Professor?”

“I don’t know. You’re already capable of a lot, Istina. You’ve got impressive research accomplishments.”

“Stop comparing me to you. I should compare myself to peers or colleagues. There aren’t many graduate students who match your level, after all.”

Istina quietly left the lab.

By the way. I rummaged through the stack of letters on my desk. Prince Manfred visited the Academy to see me a few days ago, right? He left a note since I wasn’t in my office. Where is it?

Ah, here it is. Prince Manfred’s letter.

– It’s Manfred.

– I heard you went on a royal inspection to the Cerulis dukedom. Are you finally considering participating in imperial society? A lot of people are curious about what exactly you do.

– If you have any thoughts, let me know. Or talk to Mint, or anyone else from the Cerulis family you treated.

Would the Cerulis family give me positive reviews? Honestly, I don’t know.

I still have no intention of joining imperial high society. I’m not noble, nor do I have any family connections.

Even if I attended, I’d likely just be treated as one of the palace servants. I don’t understand why the prince insists on dragging me along.

Hmm… maybe he wants to boast, “The empire’s best doctor is mine!”

Regardless, I have no interest in going.

– Although,世俗ly speaking, it might help attract investors. Attending once could be beneficial.

Oh, that’s a perspective I hadn’t considered. Frankly, I’ve never done any sales pitches, so I’m not sure how effective that would be. But yeah, peddling potions like a street vendor doesn’t sound appealing.

Still, if he puts it this way, refusing might be difficult.

– Besides, don’t you lack alchemists in your network? Wouldn’t it be useful to find potential collaborators?

Ugh, just thinking about it exhausts me. I flipped through the rest of the letter. Anything else?

– Seeking advice from Professor.

This came from an external academic institution.

– Written by Professor Claudius.

– Question regarding methods for classifying bacteria visible under a microscope. The bacteria we’ve cultivated in our experiment room seem limited in variety.

That’s plausible.

– Is it because the types of bacteria are naturally limited, or are we doing something wrong in cultivation? We seek the expertise of a specialist like you.

Good question. I picked up my pen.

Here’s how it works: Bacteria come in countless varieties, but only a small portion can be cultured without special effort. Most Gram-positive bacteria dominate what we usually grow, but countless bacteria require very specific conditions and media.

Let me write a brief response.

Professor Claudius, right?

– Different bacteria prefer different culture mediums and environments, and there are numerous staining techniques designed to highlight specific bacteria.

– You’re not conducting your research incorrectly. However, if you wish to observe other bacteria, you may need to modify the environment.

Another issue resolved for today.

****

Meanwhile, in the Alchemy Department lecture.

Professor Wolfram paused the lesson and tossed a small piece of chalk toward a student who appeared to be dozing off. Of course, he didn’t aim to hit them.

“Hey, wake up that sleeping student over there.”

Click. An alchemy student poked the person next to them who appeared to be asleep. Instead of waking up, the student slumped sideways lifelessly.

Professor Wolfram pinched his forehead.

“Alright, you guys, take this one to the hospital.”

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