The Genius Doctor Who Lives Twice - Chapter 20

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 20
The two returned to their room.
Yet William still wore that distant, half-dazed expression.
“Missing some newt you left behind?”
Fred threw out the jest, but William shook his head with a grave face.
“Not an animal. A person.”
……?
Fred flinched and stepped backward.
“Please don’t commit any crimes.”
“I want to look inside that man’s mind.”
“Don’t you know how unsettling it is when you say things like that?”
Fred coughed, a low rasp escaping him.
His ribs screamed in protest, though by now he’d grown somewhat accustomed to the pain.
“That man who saved you—he’s far too skilled to be working as a mere apprentice in some rural clinic.”
“He did look somewhat older, didn’t he?”
“Yes. The more I think about it, the less sense any of it makes.”
He clenched and unclenched his fists as he continued to turn it over in his mind.
“I’d rush over this very moment if I could and watch them work—observe everything about how they treat their patients, the source of that strange knowledge of theirs.”
“Then ask him. You have the time now, don’t you?”
“To a surgeon, technique is a lifeline. He wouldn’t hand it over to just anyone so easily.”
As William released a long sigh, Fred offered careful counsel.
“After all, you’re leaving for Caulden anyway. You’re not going to be a competitor setting up practice here, so why not ask openly? He might surprise you and agree.”
William recalled Alan’s composed expression.
Those detached eyes that neither concealed anything nor sought to establish authority.
Suddenly he felt certain that Alan was not the sort of man to cling to secret formulas.
“All right. I’ll go now.”
“Now? You could go tomorrow.”
“No—when you’ve made up your mind, you strike while the iron is hot.”
William hastily gathered his things and set out across the darkened streets of Dunnford toward the Clinic.
As he drew near, his heartbeat quickened.
A man who could clear blocked airways and restart a stilled heart.
What manner of medical sanctuary was this place where such a being dwelled?
Knock, knock.
Upon reaching the Clinic door, he rapped sharply, breathing heavily.
After a moment, a creaking sound came, and Alan appeared once more.
“Did you leave something behind?”
William swallowed hard and opened his mouth.
“In truth… I am a formally trained surgeon’s apprentice from The South.”
Alan nodded as though unsurprised.
“I suspected as much. When you looked at the patient, your eyes were not those of someone ignorant of human anatomy.”
“So that’s why I came to ask… would it be possible for me to observe here, even for just a few days?”
Alan’s expression shifted subtly.
William pressed forward urgently, sensing an opening.
“I intend to head for Caulden! I swear I will never establish a practice here or misuse any knowledge. I only wish to stand beside and witness that remarkable medicine of yours—that technique I have never once seen in all my life.”
At that moment, having heard the commotion, Edward appeared in the doorway in his nightclothes.
“What’s all this noise in the middle of the night?”
“This young man wishes to become an Observer Apprentice at our Clinic, it seems.”
Alan stepped back smoothly, deferring the matter to Edward.
“I am only an apprentice myself, so the decision must fall to you, Master.”
Edward studied William intently.
A tense silence stretched between them.
William swallowed.
“You wish to observe our Clinic?”
“Yes, I beg you, please!”
“A few days of watching from the sidelines won’t do you much good. Why not register formally as an apprentice instead?”
……!
William’s eyes widened at the unexpected, generous proposal.
“I’ve already completed my apprenticeship in The South. I came here only to sit for the Medical Society exam in Caulden….”
“Ah, so you’re an experienced man.”
Edward turned to Alan with evident interest.
“So when this fellow comes in, he outranks you then?”
“What, am I to be dead last in the hierarchy?”
“N-not at all! I shall regard Alan as both senior and master, treating him with the utmost respect!”
William cried out urgently, and mischievous smiles spread across Edward’s and Alan’s faces.
Edward tilted his body to one side and gestured inward.
“Well then, come in. We’ll have plenty to discuss through the night.”
William clutched at his pounding heart and stepped across the threshold.
The door creaked shut behind him.
* * *
William registered at Edward’s Clinic as an Observer Apprentice.
Though called observation, it was in practice assistance.
He took charge of procedural support, Medical Chart organization, and preliminary examinations.
William was particularly startled by how casually they entrusted him with Medical Chart management.
“…Aren’t these your secret formulas? Is it really all right to reveal them so openly?”
Alan laughed and answered him.
“I’m quite certain no one becomes able to replicate it simply by watching.”
And indeed it was so.
Their charts were extraordinary.
Unlike typical charts that ended with observation of symptoms, complexion, tongue, urine color, pulse, and phlegm or excretions, these listed every conceivable physical examination finding.
“Do you perform such detailed physical examinations on every patient?”
William asked, and Alan replied.
“We do. It’s the only way to know what lies within without splitting the body open. Didn’t the ancient sages speak of the importance of Inspection, Auscultation, and Palpation?”
“…But what of Percussion? Is that mentioned in the texts as well?”
“No, it isn’t. But if one observes, listens, and touches, then why not tap as well?”
…….
Yet more remarkable than the physical examinations was how they arrived at their conclusions.
On the second day of observation, a dock laborer came in. He suffered from shortness of breath and swollen legs. His complexion was pallid, and the edges of his lips bore a faint bluish tinge.
To William’s eye, he was a typical case of Edema. The standard treatment was bloodletting and herbs to promote diuresis.
But the Medical Chart he examined later far exceeded his understanding.
Symptoms: Dyspnea (worsens on climbing stairs), orthopneic—sleeps upright in a chair. Bilateral lower extremity swelling for three weeks. Abdominal distension.
Inspection—Cyanosis of lips and fingertips. Jugular Vein Distension visible to the naked eye.
Palpation—Liver Border palpable below the costal margin. Pitting Edema of lower extremities (+).
Percussion—Dullness of bilateral lung bases. Shifting Dullness of abdomen (+).
Auscultation—Crackles at the cardiac apex. Crackles at bilateral lung bases.
Pulse—Irregular, thready. Estimated ~90 beats per minute.
The conclusion they had reached was equally strange.
Congestive Heart Failure, suspected Valve Insufficiency
“……?”
For William, this conclusion sprang from a logic he simply could not fathom.
‘It’s the sort of diagnosis an internist would make. Or do even physicians think this way?’
Ordinarily, practitioners were absorbed in outward symptoms, secretions, and constitutional theory.
Yet here they diagnosed as if seeing through to the internal organs themselves.
And after staying at the clinic for several more days, William came to discern the clinic’s very ‘secret.’
‘Alan is the real power here.’
It was unmistakable.
Alan was the one writing the charts, the one taking the lead in Inquiry and examinations.
On the surface, it appeared that ‘the benevolent Edward’ conducted ‘apprentice instruction’ by having the apprentice go first and then correcting him—but the truth was the opposite.
‘Alan is teaching Edward.’
Why such a skilled practitioner would take on the role of mere apprentice was utterly incomprehensible.
Yet Alan was not infallible in all respects.
At times he displayed shortcomings even worse than a true beginner.
This was especially true when dealing with serious surgical cases.
William grasped this fact clearly when a dislocation patient arrived one day.
“Now, watch. Grip it here and pull like this….”
Following Edward’s instruction, Alan grasped the patient’s arm and pulled.
“Gaaahhh! Oh, you’re killing me! Oh no!”
“Good grief, don’t just brute-force it like some oaf! Look, you’ll snap the poor man’s arm off!”
“…I apologize.”
It was the same when handling a blade.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake! Just because the patient moves, your hand shakes too—what are you doing!”
“I’m sorry.”
“Your hand can’t shake like that! You need to thrust with conviction, as if finishing it in one stroke. You’re not sawing with a knife!”
William was certain of it.
In matters of Surgical Technique, this man was even more of a novice than he was.
His knowledge of internal medicine ran deeper than anyone’s, yet his skill with the blade was utterly unremarkable.
Beyond that, every cumbersome procedure Edward’s Clinic performed before surgery seemed riddled with questions.
Every time, boiling water with great fanfare, scrubbing hands vigorously with soap, washing instruments and the surgical site with strong spirits—didn’t he repeat these meaningless actions without fail?
“Is this really just misdirection to hide some secret formula?”
When William ventured the question, Edward shook his head with a grave expression.
“No. That is the secret formula.”
“……?”
As time passed, his questions only accumulated rather than resolved.
The vast knowledge hidden behind their daily practice, the true identity of a man named Alan, and how these absurd procedures could actually produce results—he couldn’t fathom any of it.
There was only one thing certain.
‘Two weeks isn’t nearly enough.’
With a schedule that had him arriving at seven in the morning and departing at six in the evening, there was no way to uncover all their secrets.
When he returned to his lodging, Fred was always spread out at the head of his bed, sketching something on paper.
“I told you not to overexert yourself.”
“I’m much better now. Lying around all day does nothing but drive me mad with boredom.”
Fred answered, drawing lines rapidly with charcoal.
On the paper unfolded a scene of Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation—Alan pressing his chest just before Fred’s breath had given out.
Fred was in the process of faithfully reconstructing it from the detailed account William had given him of events at the time.
“…And this foolish fellow standing about—that’s me, yes?”
“You need three figures for the composition to work: the practitioner, the patient, and the observer. I’ll change the face to someone else. I couldn’t think of anyone specific, so I just sketched something vague.”
“No, you actually were standing about like a fool, so leave it.”
William exhaled sharply.
Fred set down the charcoal and fixed his friend with an unwavering gaze.
“I think I’ll be able to leave tomorrow.”
“…….”
“What are you planning to do?”
At Fred’s question, William fell silent for a moment.
From that brief flicker of expression alone, his longtime friend had already read the answer.
“…You’ve still got plenty of lingering doubts.”
“I thought if I kept observing, I might grasp some threads of understanding.”
“Observation is your weapon, after all.”
“But it’s strange. The more I look, the less I understand. Nothing seems to make sense, yet everything makes too much sense.”
William raked his fingers through his curly blond hair in frustration.
Fred let out a soft laugh watching him.
“Are you really sure you don’t mind delaying your journey to Caulden? It was you who was desperate to reach the capital at the earliest possible moment, not me.”
“That’s true. I thought all the world’s medical secrets would be solved the moment I set foot in Caulden. But now…… I think uncovering the mysteries of this Clinic comes first.”
“You feel like you’ll regret it for the rest of your life if you don’t stay?”
“Yes.”
“Then you should stay. I’ll go ahead to Caulden and wait for you. Take your time sorting things out and follow after.”
And so, the next day.
William saw Fred off at the city square, watching him board a carriage bound for Caulden.
“I’m sorry I can’t go with you.”
William spoke, watching Fred’s back as he stepped onto the carriage platform.
Fred turned his head and offered a faint smile.
“Well, I have to go because my master is there, but you don’t, do you?”
“That’s right. I thought the city of Caulden itself would become my master.”
Having said so, William turned to look behind him.
“I never expected to find a master in such an unexpected place.”
“Take care of yourself. And……please, don’t go digging up coffins in the dead of night here. This is a foreign land with no connections for you. You’ll truly end your life in one misstep.”
Fred warned him with a mixture of jest and gravity.
William let out a dry chuckle.
“Do you really think I’d get caught?”
“Life is cruel—you can succeed a hundred times, but a single mistake will cost you your neck.”
“Don’t worry.”
“And don’t go touching someone else’s pet dog either.”
“…I said don’t worry.”
Soon the sound of bells chimed as Fred’s carriage rattled away, growing steadily distant.
William watched until it vanished entirely from view, then turned back toward the street.
How much longer he would remain in Dunnford, he could not say.
But one thing was certain.
When he left this city, he would be someone entirely different from the William he had been before.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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