Chapter 78
*
I took Ayla to the diabetes testing room.
“Director. What kind of illnesses does this examination room treat?”
“It’s a disease that’s a little too early for Miss Ayla to learn about, so I won’t introduce it today.”
On the way to the diabetes testing room.
There was a suspiciously well-trafficked examination room that male patients frequented, but I smoothly glossed over it.
The diabetes testing room was tucked away at the end of the hallway.
When I opened the door, two healers were standing inside in front of a long table.
One healer, wearing round glasses, was lining up glass cups.
The other was busily recording something.
“Ah, Director. Welcome.”
The round-glasses healer gave me a slight nod.
His name was Kou Gomikawa.
A diabetes-specialized healer I had personally trained.
He was in his late thirties.
He had started out as a low-ranking priest, and his healing ability was mediocre.
Instead, he had a strong understanding of alchemy.
Originally, he had dreamed of becoming an alchemist.
But for the practical reason that alchemists had fewer opportunities than healers, he had ultimately chosen the path of a healer.
Then, after I sparked the insulin boom, he abandoned divine magic and began walking the path of alchemy again.
“Teacher. I brought my student today.”
“Ooh! So Director is finally taking on a disciple!”
Beyond the round frames of his glasses, Kou’s eyes grew as big as full moons.
“It’s been all the talk among the healers at Mercure Clinic lately. They say Director finally brought a disciple.”
Ordinary healers bring their disciples to the clinics where they work and teach them there.
Hoping that someday they will take over their work.
The healer quietly assisting with the tests at Kou’s side right now was also his disciple.
If I remembered correctly, he was a student who entered the healing department last year.
“Say hello, Yuzuki.”
“Hello, senior. I’m Ayla.”
“Nice to meet you, Miss Ayla. I’m Yuzuki.”
The healer who had been recording something greeted Ayla.
I put Ayla in front where Kou could see her and said,
“Teacher Kou. Ayla hasn’t entered the healing department yet, so today I’d just like you to give a brief explanation of diabetes testing. Do you have time?”
Kou nodded readily.
“I’ve just finished the morning batch. I was preparing the afternoon batch anyway, so you can watch along.”
Good timing.
I gestured for Ayla to come inside.
Twelve glass cups were lined up on the table.
Each cup contained a yellow liquid, and each one had a name tag attached.
Healer Kou explained to Ayla.
“These are all urine samples from patients suspected of having diabetes.”
“Pardon?”
Ayla’s expression turned to shock.
“Why would you do something like that?”
“Because urine is a mirror that shows the state of the body.”
Kou replied as he dripped a blue liquid into each beaker of urine.
The blue liquid was called Benedict’s reagent.
It’s a reagent used to detect sugar.
Next, Kou heated the mixture of urine and reagent.
Most of the cups only foamed and stayed yellow.
But some of the cups changed from yellow to red.
Kou’s disciple recorded each change one by one.
[Crane Hoyer, Male, 62, Positive.]
[James Miller, Male, 55, Positive.]
When his disciple finished recording, I took the sheet and showed it to Ayla.
“Now then, Student Ayla. Can you explain what kind of disease diabetes is, as best you know?”
“It’s a disease where you keep getting thirsty, drink lots of water, but it all comes out as urine.”
“That’s right. You’ve studied well, Student Ayla.”
Next: polydipsia, polyuria.
The three major symptoms of diabetes.
“Diabetes is a disease in which too much sugar flows through the blood, making it sticky. Because the blood becomes sticky, blood vessels get blocked often, and that leads to all sorts of illnesses. It’s a terrifying disease.”
I skipped over the principles of diabetes, like pancreatic function or how sugar accumulates in blood cells.
That was something they’d learn in the academic department.
“And because the sugar in the blood becomes excessive, sugar ends up spilling into the urine, even though it normally shouldn’t.”
“Did you discover that, Director?”
“No. Another healer discovered that fact. I made the medicine based on it.”
The diagnostic criteria for diabetes were already known before I made insulin.
It was thanks to some old healer who had once discovered that sugar appears in the urine of diabetic patients.
“The diagnostic criteria for diabetes were discovered forty years ago.”
“I see.”
Of course, even back then they hadn’t found a treatment.
Being able to identify diabetes patients more quickly made diet control possible, but
it didn’t lead to treatment for patients who already had diabetes.
That is, until I introduced the technique for extracting insulin from pig pancreas.
“How much do you know about insulin, Miss Ayla?”
“I heard it’s a miracle medicine essential for diabetes patients.”
“That’s right. But to call it a miracle medicine, it still has many shortcomings.”
First, there’s the issue of purity.
I succeeded in increasing the purity by introducing a zinc refinement method, but compared to the era I lived in, it was still far from sufficient.
“So we need to conduct improvement research using the information gathered at this clinic.”
This was why I said the role of the clinics was important.
The medicines I introduced to this world were all nothing more than prototypes.
Insulin, quinine, colchicine, vaccines.
They all needed improvement.
But I don’t know how to improve them.
Because, from the start, the knowledge was something I’d gotten for free from another world.
Beyond that, it’s the realm of biochemistry, not medicine.
So I left all post-development improvement research to the alchemists.
Maybe because the alchemists of this world were originally the sort who would create all kinds of derivative potions whenever a new potion appeared.
I explained the principles a little, gave them a bit of budget, and provided clinic data,
and they were so excited they started churning out all kinds of derivative medicines.
— “A thousand patients? That’s a scale you can’t even touch unless you’re under a lord or the imperial family.”
— “The budget is… huh? This much? And the time? What? Unlimited? Can I sign a lifetime contract right now?”
If there’s no progress in the research, maybe we should reconsider whether the budget and time are insufficient,
and the alchemists employed by the merchant guild were proving that truth firsthand.
“Here, Teacher Kou also recently succeeded in improving insulin’s duration of action. This is why clinics are necessary.”
I pointed to Kou and his disciple, who were diligently recording the results.
I don’t know much about alchemy.
And I’m not especially knowledgeable about biochemistry either.
My knowledge is nothing more than pretending to solve things with the answer sheet open in front of me.
It’s not real skill.
But alchemists are different.
They are people who started from nothing and built up their knowledge and skills themselves.
Maybe that’s why.
If I just tossed out a few clues, they would figure out the rest and establish their own direction for improvement.
Is this what a misunderstanding-story automation process looks like?
Thanks to that, I was thoroughly enjoying the privileges of a misunderstanding-story protagonist.
“Haha, Director. If you say it like that, won’t the student misunderstand? You taught us all the principles, and we just piggybacked on your work. And didn’t we conclude that the new drug I made was clinically insignificant?”
“But it’s meaningful that it was improved.”
I turned toward Ayla and said,
“If you have any questions about insulin or diabetes, ask Teacher Kou. In this area, he’s already surpassed me.”
“Director! I keep telling you, it’s not that much!”
I ignored Healer Kou’s protest.
Because in the fields of diabetes and insulin, the alchemists really had already surpassed me.
I wasn’t particularly frustrated.
And there was no reason to be.
Besides, diabetes wasn’t the only area I needed to work on.
There was no need to cling to a single title as the top authority on diabetes.
And in the end, I was the one who nurtured and supported these alchemists.
The more famous they became, the more my own reputation would naturally rise as well.
So I can acknowledge Teacher Kou as the best.
“Student Ayla. Any questions?”
Ayla, who had been listening quietly to me,
looked over the record sheet in silence, then opened her mouth carefully.
“What are these numbers, by any chance?”
[Crane Hoyer, Male, 62, Positive. — 5/12 : 200]
Ayla’s finger pointed to a line on the record sheet.
It was the date and the number written beside it.
Kou pushed up his glasses and looked at the sheet.
“Ah, that’s the blood sugar level. Since you can’t verify a medicine’s effectiveness just by knowing sugar is in the urine, we quantify the concentration of sugar in the blood.”
Ayla tilted her head.
“How do you figure that out?”
“Good question.”
Kou pulled another record sheet from the table drawer.
There were dense rows of numbers by date. For each patient, figures spanning several months were listed.
“Our merchant guild puts in requests to mages.”
Kou explained.
“Among mages, there are rare individuals with the talent to sense the concentration of substances dissolved in blood. They analyze the patient’s blood and quantify the sugar concentration for us.”
It’s not difficult for a mage.
Sensing humidity or melancholy through their skin, or feeling how active the bone marrow is.
Those were the sorts of bizarre, inexplicable talents mages had.
So whenever we found a mage with useful talent besides Eri, the guild would hire them and use them as diagnostic tools like this.
Unfortunately, we still hadn’t found another mage whose talent stood out as much as Eri’s.
In any case, with help from such mages, it was possible to quantify the sugar levels in urine or blood.
But Ayla didn’t seem to believe it easily.
“There are people with that kind of mage talent? I’ve never heard of such a talent.”
Maybe because she aspired to be a healer.
She seemed to know a thing or two about mage talents.
Healing magic is ultimately based on principles similar to ordinary magic.
Apart from substituting faith for the ability to sense one’s surroundings, and divine power for mana, it wasn’t much different from being a mage.
So she seemed to think Kou was joking.
“Does that kind of talent really exist?”
At Ayla’s reaction, Healer Kou let out a snort of laughter.
Then his expression slowly changed.
The laughter faded, leaving behind a gloomy face tinged with regret.
Kou set down the sheet and slowly lifted his head.
“Student Ayla.”
“Yes?”
“Do you know why diabetes is called diabetes?”
“Because sugar comes out in the urine…”
“It’s because the urine tastes sweet.”
“...”
Ah.
Ayla groaned.
“No way...”
Ayla couldn’t continue.
There are plenty of mages who can assess the state of their surroundings not just with their eyes or nose, but with their tongues as well.
She seemed to have remembered that fact.
“Don’t worry, Student Ayla. It’s a diagnostic method you and Yuzuki don’t need to know.”
Even as he said that, Kou was still looking up at the ceiling.
His eyes beyond the round lenses were gazing into the distance.
“Come to think of it, it reminds me of when I was an apprentice. You said the diagnostic method for diabetes was discovered forty years ago, right?”
“...”
“Benedict’s reagent hasn’t been around very long. It was a reagent Director Shun made together with insulin.”
I quietly nodded.
If you’re going to make medicine, you also need to make diagnostic methods, don’t you?
So I made it.
Because I really didn’t want to do a dip-and-taste test on patients’ urine.
Well, when I developed this reagent, the healers did cheer for another reason.
Kou called out to me in a low voice.
“Director Shun.”
“Yes.”
“Couldn’t you have made it three years sooner?”
For reference, Kou obtained his healer’s license ten years ago.
Meaning three years before I made the reagent.
“I’m sorry. I was busy making quinine at the time too.”
“...No, it was I who misspoke. Thank you very much for making it.”
The face of the low-ranking healer saying that looked strangely sorrowful.
***
It had been several months since I took Ayla on as my disciple.
Ayla’s training was proceeding smoothly.
‘I think it might be about time to move on to the next stage.’
Ayla’s rate of absorbing knowledge was extraordinary.
As if the title of top student at the seminary wasn’t just for show.
Before I knew it, she had grown to a level where she’d be fine entering the healing department.
At this rate, it seemed fine to have her do a bit of preparatory study before enrollment.
However, I decided to put that off for a little while.
‘The snow’s coming in unusually heavy again this year.’
Because that season was approaching.
Once again this year, the world was preparing to turn white.
It was the time when every household prepared to endure the harshest season.
Ayla was busy as well, so I postponed the lesson.
And during the free time, I took care of something I never skipped each year.
‘It should be about time for it to arrive.’
Before the heavy snowfall began,
I would send winter stipends to the scholarship students.
Heating costs, book fees, food expenses, and so on.
I sent them those things every year.
Then around this time, the scholarship students’ thank-you letters would arrive.
Knock, knock.
Just then, the head butler knocked on my room door.
“Young master, a letter.”
“Come in.”
Head butler Wilhelm entered the room carrying a silver tray.
I checked the envelopes resting on the tray.
“Thank you.”
I took the letters and checked their contents.
There wasn’t much to them.
A note from Kal in the swordsmanship department saying his injuries were all healed now.
A note from Ellie in the alchemy department saying that once the snow stopped, she’d return to school and study again.
Valeria wrote that if she did well on this graduation exam, getting into the Hero department of the academic division would be easy.
‘Come to think of it, Valeria will be twenty once the snow stops.’
It feels like just yesterday she promised to apply to the Hero department.
Time really does fly.
As I kept flipping through the letters, before long one was left.
A familiar envelope sealed with string instead of wax.
[Sender — Ayla.]
I carefully untied the string on the envelope.
Pressed flowers spilled out with it again.
A small purple blossom: a violet.
‘She’s growing flowers even in winter now.’
Violets bloom in spring.
To make such a flower bloom in winter...
It had gone beyond surprise and into the realm of wonder.
How on earth was she growing them?
I tucked the violet between the pages as a bookmark, then unfolded the letter.
=======================
To Director Shun,
Hello, Director. This is Ayla.
Thanks to what you sent again this year, I’m spending the winter warmly. Mom said to tell you thank you too.
The enclosed flower is a violet.
Thanks to the magic stone lamp you sent, I can now make flowers bloom besides sunflowers too.
Thank you so much.
Director, I’ve been studying a lot lately.
I’m reviewing the clinics you introduced me to.
And I’m not neglecting the theological studies you urged me to do.
You said healers need faith and patience, remember?
Mom said your words were right too.
She said that the time spent praying is proportional to faith and patience.
It’s only ten minutes right now, but someday I’ll be able to focus for four hours like Mom, right?
The road is still long, but I’ll work hard.
Oh, and my seminary friends are jealous of me.
Usually, they say the healing department only teaches theory classes.
So students without a healer teacher or family can only gain practical experience after graduating and getting a job.
But I’m going around clinics before enrollment, so my friends are very envious.
Which is why...
If it’s not too much to ask,
would it be okay if I visited the clinics together with some of my seminary friends who want to become healers?
I’m really sorry if that’s too much to ask.
I have more I want to say, but I’m running out of paper, so I’ll stop here.
Once the snow stops, I really want to see you.
I want to show you the things I’ve learned at the clinic.
Please stay healthy until then, Director!
From Ayla
==========================
‘How cute.’
She wants to bring her friends.
There was no reason to refuse.
If this helped Ayla grow closer to her friends, that would be even better.
Immediately, I picked up my fountain pen and started writing back.
I wrote that I would positively consider the friends’ visit.
I also added a promise: that once the snow stopped, I’d show her something a little more difficult this year.
I folded the letter and sealed it with melted wax over a candle.
*
Then winter passed, and the snow stopped.
At dawn that day,
I went to D-1 Clinic for work for the first time in a while.
And before Ayla and her friends arrived, I prepared for the morning’s work.
I was writing today’s schedule in my notebook with a fountain pen, preparing for the various emergency patients that would arise right after the heavy snowfall, when
Thump-thump-thump-thump!
the sound of someone urgently pounding on the clinic entrance rang out.
“Teacher! Are you there, Teacher!”
It was Wangcho.
‘At this hour?’
I closed my notebook and headed for the entrance.
When I opened the door, Wangcho was standing there.
Chunks of ice clung to the shoulders of his khaki long coat, and his sideburns were slick with cold sweat
“We’re in trouble, Teacher.”
Wangcho said between rough breaths.
“The B-Sector is in chaos.”
“B-Sector?”
“It’s the cooperative subjugation season right after the heavy snowfall, isn’t it.”
Right.
Right after a heavy snowfall is the season for cooperative monster subjugations.
It’s when we take advantage of the period when monsters, still not fully awake from hibernation, are sluggish.
During this time, mercenaries, knight orders, and nobles work together to thin their numbers.
It was an imperial joint operation to manage the density of monsters in the demon wasteland outside the Brass Wall.
But what on earth had happened there to warrant this reaction?
“A variant appeared. Apparently a mutant bird burst out of the nest the subjugation force was trying to wake up, and that thing woke every last hibernating monster.”
“What about the casualties?”
“Not to mention the mercenaries, but the knights and nobles who went in with them are said to have serious injuries as well. It’s no exaggeration to say they were dealt an almost catastrophic blow.”
Wangcho rubbed his hands together.
“The mercenary guilds and clans are in B-Sector, aren’t they? All the injured gathered there. So the boss over there sent us a request for support.”
The head of B-Sector was on friendly terms with Wangcho.
After all, adventurers often made the long trip to D-Sector to get treated.
By treating them often, I somehow ended up on friendly terms with D-Sector.
“He’s making a pitiful face and begging us to please bring you.”
“Understood.”
I picked up my coat.
“I’ll contact the healers assigned to the clinic. Let’s head out first.”
Just then, I could see the car carrying Ayla approaching the clinic from afar.
After thinking for a moment, I added to Wangcho,
“I’m taking Student Ayla too, so please look after her, Wangcho.”
“Yes, sir. Of course.”