The Genius Doctor Who Lives Twice - Chapter 27

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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 27
William’s expression shifted to one of mild surprise.
He’d assumed Allen would naturally agree, given that no one championed the spread of Vaccination more than he did.
“Why not? Surely you’re the one who believes most deeply in the value of Vaccination. Even if we deceived them, there’d be no harm—only benefit.”
“That’s true enough. But this is a matter of Medical Ethics.”
“What ethics are you referring to?”
“Performing a procedure on a patient’s body without their consent—that’s what I mean. No matter how favorable the outcome, we cannot unilaterally violate their right to decide what enters their own body.”
William tilted his head, perplexed.
“…I never expected to hear such priestly sentiments from you, sir.”
“Call it my own fastidiousness, if you like. But deception is something I simply cannot abide.”
“Surely the result is what matters. When it’s patently clear the patient will benefit, refusing to act seems far more unreasonable.”
“I find myself agreeing with William on this one.”
Edward slipped quietly into the conversation.
“We understand the human body far better than our patients do, after all. Isn’t it our duty to guide them toward the safer path? In fact, wouldn’t that be the more compassionate choice?”
“The moment a physician believes himself right, he risks becoming dangerous—willing to do anything to the patient. Results do not justify the means.”
Allen responded evenly.
His tone was gentle, yet threaded with unmistakable resolve.
William and Edward exchanged blank stares.
With Allen—the most knowledgeable among them—holding so stubbornly to principle, there was simply nothing more to argue.
Tap. Tap.
Just then, a knock sounded at the Clinic door.
Edward sighed wearily and gestured to William.
“If it’s a peddler, send them away.”
But the woman who entered wore fine clothing befitting a woman of means.
One look at her attire marked her as a lady of Greenhills nobility.
“Well now, madam. What brings you in?”
Edward sprang up as if he hadn’t been sprawled moments before.
Upper-class patients were always welcome, after all.
“…I’ve come hoping to have my child undergo Variolation.”
Edward’s shoulders sagged once more.
They’d only just been discussing this. Here it was again.
His mouth was tired of explaining, and the outcome felt predictable—but he pressed on regardless.
“Madam, our Clinic has actually moved away from Variolation in favor of a new procedure called Vaccination. Would you care to hear an explanation?”
Edward suppressed his fatigue and explained Vaccination thoroughly.
Of course, he harbored little hope this time either.
“…Well? Does my proposal interest you at all?”
Typically at this point, people would either pale and retreat, muttering something like “I simply cannot accept cow pus,” or they would take offense and leave.
Edward had braced himself for the same.
But her response caught him off guard.
The woman had listened intently throughout, her expression growing somewhat grave, yet she regarded him with the thoughtful gaze of someone genuinely deliberating.
‘Could it be…?’
Edward’s eyes widened.
Allen and William pricked up their ears.
“Doctor, I’ve given your proposal considerable thought.”
The woman spoke slowly.
“I trust you deeply, Doctor Edward. I know you would never do anything to harm your patients.”
“My, madam….”
Edward’s lips quivered with emotion.
Such trust! Such confidence!
It made his efforts feel vindicated.
“I’m truly grateful, madam. Then perhaps—”
“But no matter how I consider it, I find I simply cannot accept Vaccination. I’m terribly sorry.”
Edward’s head dropped again. Of course. What else could he expect.
“…Yes, if that is your wish, madam, then it cannot be helped.”
“However, Doctor—might you not perform Variolation on my child instead?”
Edward lifted his head once more.
Patients who declined Vaccination typically vanished to seek treatment elsewhere, yet this woman was explicitly requesting the procedure.
“Madam, we avoid Variolation precisely because it is far more dangerous than Vaccination. In good conscience, I cannot recommend it.”
Edward spoke carefully.
Yet his visitor remained unexpectedly resolute.
“I understand your concerns, and I do recognize that Variolation carries greater risks than Vaccination. I truly do.”
“And yet, why do you insist on Variolation?”
“Because I cannot bring myself to accept—as a mother—the thought of introducing impure pus drawn from an animal’s body into my child’s flesh. It goes against the Providence of the God I believe in.”
The Noble Woman spoke hurriedly, as if she might say more.
“Of course, I don’t mean to cast blame on you, Doctors. It’s simply that this is where my husband and I stand on these matters.”
“Of course, madam. I understand perfectly.”
Edward’s voice had grown noticeably gentler.
It was the first time a conversation had proceeded so reasonably, and there was something almost refreshing about it.
“If I may ask—how old is the child you intend to inoculate?”
“Six years old this year.”
Six years old.
Edward fell silent for a moment, and beside him Allen’s expression grew grave.
“Still, I trust only you, Doctor Edward. I’ve heard of your renowned skill in saving countless patients here in Dunford. My own cousin received treatment from you and has never ceased to praise your work.”
“Ah, well…”
Watching Edward’s mouth curve upward again, Allen mentally clicked his tongue at just how transparent the man was with his feelings.
“So I’m throwing all discretion aside and asking you this: I won’t entrust my precious child to any other physician in Dunford.”
Edward wavered.
He wanted to repay such trust with his very best efforts—yet that repayment would have to be Variolation of all things.
Something far more dangerous than Vaccination, and on a six-year-old child at that.
He glanced sideways at Allen.
A silent question in his eyes: what should we do?
Allen pressed his lips together, lost in thought.
The problem was that the patient was six years old.
Had the child been an adult, there would have been no dilemma.
One need only fully disclose the risks, and if the person still chose to proceed, to respect their choice and be done with it.
But a six-year-old child had no ability to choose.
The decision rested entirely with the parents, and those parents were insisting on the more dangerous path.
‘Refusal is the principle.’
A physician had no obligation to undertake a dangerous procedure contrary to the child’s welfare, no matter how forcefully the parents demanded it.
And yet.
‘If I refuse, it won’t keep that child safe.’
The woman showed no sign of abandoning Variolation.
Refuse her, and she would simply seek out another clinic.
Some squalid place unconcerned with the hygiene of the pus or proper isolation afterward.
Refusal would give Allen the satisfaction of holding to his principles, but the child would be driven into something far more perilous.
‘Then perhaps with my own hands, and as safely as possible.’
Allen closed his eyes for a moment.
He could not be certain this calculation was sound.
But he felt he understood which of the paths available to him now was the lesser evil.
He gave Edward a faint nod.
Edward turned back to face the Noble Woman.
“Very well, madam. Since you trust me so deeply, I shall perform the Variolation procedure with the utmost care I can provide.”
“Really? Truly, Doctor? Thank you—thank you so very much!”
Joy bloomed instantly across the Noble Woman’s face.
In contrast, Edward’s expression grew clouded with conflicted shadow.
“However, it cannot be done at once. I must locate and procure clean pus from a Smallpox patient—it will take some time.”
“Of course, take all the time you need. When you’re ready, simply send word to our residence in Greenhills.”
The Noble Woman bowed repeatedly before rising to her feet.
As she made to leave, she tried to press a heavy purse of Silver Coins into Edward’s hands as consultation fees, but he firmly refused and sent her away with it.
Watching through the window as the Noble Woman and her lamp-bearing servant disappeared into the alley, Edward let out a long sigh.
“It feels like we’ve made a compromise that satisfies neither side.”
Allen placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, offering a faint smile.
“If we cannot insist on the best choice, then we must hope we’ve at least chosen the lesser evil.”
* * *
A few days later.
Edward and his party gathered their things and set out for Greenhills.
It was to perform the Variolation procedure.
First, however, they had to locate and visit a Smallpox patient’s home.
They needed to procure pus for the Variolation.
Allen had given strict instructions to collect only clear, serous pus that hadn’t yet formed into a Scab.
Using old or contaminated pus could kill the child with sepsis rather than smallpox.
Edward emerged from the patient’s home with the color drained from his face.
“You certainly went through hell to save him. I’ll grant you, vaccination is far more convenient for a physician in that respect. No need to scrape pus directly from a suffering patient and bear the risk.”
Edward spoke while sealing the pus-stained goose feather quill into a dry container.
William, watching from beside him, lifted his shoulders.
“What parent would consent to have their own sick child’s pus scraped away to save someone else’s? There isn’t one.”
“When did you start talking such common sense?”
“…What exactly do you take me for?”
William replied with an injured expression.
Over time, Edward had come to recognize William’s peculiarities.
“Give me the pus container, if you would. I’ll retrieve it when we’re ready to perform the procedure.”
“Very well. Much obliged.”
Edward handed over the container without hesitation.
William took it and secured it at his waist.
The three arrived at their destination in the Greenhills district.
It was a modest but elegant residence, refined in every detail.
Upon stating their names, the mistress of the house—a middle-aged woman—came out at once to greet them warmly.
“Welcome, gentlemen.”
The woman guided them carefully to a cozy child’s room.
A boy of about six sat at the head of the bed, eyes wide and fixed upon the physicians.
“This child’s elder sister passed away last winter from smallpox.”
The woman spoke with a voice heavy with sorrow.
“This one alone—I must save him, no matter what. By any means.”
Edward nodded solemnly.
Then, just before the procedure, he offered one final words.
“Madam, variolation carries risk no matter how carefully we prepare. Would you not reconsider—even now—choosing vaccination instead?”
“Forgive me, Doctor. But that is something I truly cannot accept.”
The woman shook her head even as genuine remorse crossed her face.
Edward exhaled deeply.
Allen, standing beside him, bore the same grave expression.
“Very well, madam. Then we shall proceed with variolation as planned.”
The procedure itself was not complex.
As Allen wiped the boy’s forearm with strong spirits, Edward made three small incisions across the upper arm skin with a thin blade.
The moment blood began to ooze, William handed forward the quill laden with pus.
Edward worked the pustule material carefully into the wound, then bound it tightly with cloth and bandages.
Even amid the pain, the boy held his mother’s hand fast and endured with composure.
Once the procedure was complete, the woman gathered her son into her arms with evident pride.
Finally, Allen approached the mistress to explain the aftercare instructions.
“Within three to four days, fever will rise and blisters will form around the wound. This is normal—do not be alarmed. But you must watch day and night to prevent the child from scratching.”
He paused, then added the most crucial point.
“And until the scabs fall away—at least three weeks—this child is effectively a mild smallpox patient. Keep him strictly separated from any servants or neighbors without immunity. Once he passes this threshold, he will never contract smallpox again in his lifetime.”
The woman nodded thoughtfully.
The three departed the residence.
In Edward’s hand lay a weighty purse of silver coins, payment for the procedure.
His expression was strange—neither openly pleased nor visibly troubled.
“If the boy gets through with only mild illness, we’re fortunate. But if anything goes wrong with him—if anything goes wrong—I’m a physician and I can barely bear it. What must his parents endure?”
Edward added the words with a bitter sigh.
“It would have been a hundred times easier to deceive the woman, passing off cowpox pus as smallpox pus. Outwardly, no one could have told the difference.”
“I have entertained that thought as well.”
Allen replied in a measured tone, his voice quiet.
“But in the end, you didn’t do it, did you?”
“No.”
“Is it that peculiar ‘moral fastidiousness’ you’re always insisting upon?”
Edward asked.
The question had an edge to it, but Allen did not bristle.
He understood that beneath it lay genuine concern for the patient.
“You see, Edward, I perceive countless paths that others cannot see. Not merely in this case. Dozens of times a day, I confront such choices and wrestle with them.”
……
“Among them are paths that would horrify you to hear. Judging by results alone, there are shortcuts that appear far swifter and finer than the road we now walk.”
“Then why do you deliberately take the longer way?”
Edward asked quietly.
Allen fell silent for a moment.
“Once I cross a line, I fear I’ll forget how to stop. I know myself too well — that I’m right. That’s the problem.”
Edward met Allen’s gaze, then slowly nodded.
Without dissecting Allen’s thoughts, he couldn’t know how far the options stretching through his mind might extend.
But one thing was unmistakably clear: this was no casual remark.
“Indeed…… sometimes knowing too much is wearisome.”
Edward offered a faint smile.
William, walking behind them, listened to their exchange in silence, his lips curling slightly upward.

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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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