The Genius Doctor Who Lives Twice - Chapter 30

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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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Episode 30
Green Hills district. Robinson Clinic.
In the consulting room where the sunset lay thick and heavy, Robinson sat across from a yellow-toothed man once more, this time in private audience.
“…You’re telling me he performed inoculations in secret?”
“Yes. Despite the High Priest’s explicit refusal, he went ahead and administered it without his knowledge.”
“And you can’t say for certain whether it was human pus or that grotesque bovine filth?”
“I was watching from a distance beyond the window, so I couldn’t discern those details.”
What the man had witnessed was only the scene of the procedure itself being conducted in secret.
He hadn’t overheard the full conversation between William and Allen.
“Variolation—we practice that ourselves. It’s difficult to challenge on legal or religious grounds.”
“But the Church’s highest authority forbade it.”
“Other parishes near the district are already permitting it. Frankly, it’s just Gabriel who’s being stubborn and thick-headed about it.”
Robinson dismissed the objection with a wave of his hand.
The yellow-toothed man’s lips curled into a mirthless smile.
“You see, sir, in a game like this, the truth doesn’t matter.”
“……?”
“What matters is that this man directly defied the priest’s command, and that he arbitrarily inoculated orphans with what can only be strongly presumed to be livestock pus—a vile ‘human experiment’ conducted on defenseless, forsaken children. That’s the frame.”
“…Go on.”
“Moreover, just days ago, those men ventured into the Green Hills district and performed procedures there as well. Ostensibly variolation, but it could very well be that they secretly injected bovine pus there too.”
“That’s pushing it a bit far, isn’t it?”
“Only hours before entering your residence, I saw with my own eyes a fresh apprentice from Edward Clinic collecting bovine pus outside the city and bringing it back in a box.”
“…Mm.”
Robinson rested his chin in his hand.
At first he’d been inclined to brush it aside, but as the man spoke, a vast blueprint of conspiracy began forming in his mind.
“If we weave this properly, we could strangle him entirely.”
“Precisely. This mysterious apprentice, Allen Wright, who hid in Edward’s shadow, becomes a criminal conducting illegal human experiments on sacred Dunford soil.”
“But logically speaking—if he were conducting experiments, wouldn’t he do it quietly in secret instead of spreading gossip all over town about vaccination and whatnot?”
Indeed, when Robinson had first heard rumors that Edward Clinic was openly promoting this bizarre medical practice called vaccination, he couldn’t make sense of it.
They could make fortunes just performing variolation—why would they insist on this absurd method of injecting bovine pus into human bodies?
It was obvious no one would consent.
“At first, he probably intended to openly recruit experimental subjects. But when no one volunteered, he changed tactics—using orphans as sacrifices to conduct experiments in secret instead.”
“Mm, mm…….”
Robinson tugged at his mustache.
Viewed rationally, there wasn’t a shred of concrete evidence.
It was clear the men had inoculated the children without the priest’s knowledge, but from a physician’s standpoint, Robinson couldn’t entirely condemn the act.
‘If I were in his shoes, I’d close my eyes and perform the procedure myself if some fool priest tried to stop me.’
Of course, he himself would never risk such a thing for the sake of orphans.
“So what you’re saying is—I should report this Allen Wright to the authorities for illegal human experiments and unlicensed medical practice?”
“Precisely.”
“If we destroy him as a criminal, Edward Clinic will be buried just as quickly.”
“Your insight is truly admirable, sir.”
“Spare the flattery. The problem is, without clear evidence, the verdict could be murky even if we do press charges. And you yourself haven’t managed to dig up his real background or history.”
“No one can evade a solemn oath on the Bible in a courtroom. Once we put the defendant in the dock and apply pressure, he’ll have no choice but to reveal his true identity.”
“Hmm, now that you mention it, you might be right.”
But then a thought occurred to him, and his brow furrowed immediately.
“Still, handling this within Dunford would be disadvantageous. People are quite favorable toward Edward Clinic, and most importantly, the Chief Clerk is on their side. We could face serious backlash if we’re careless.”
Edward Clinic’s reputation within Dunford had become firmly established, especially among the common folk.
Moreover, after Edward Clinic had completely cured McKintosh—the true power behind the administration—he’d become entirely their man.
But the yellow-toothed man shook his head.
“Why try to settle it within Dunford? If you want to deliver a heavy blow, go straight to the Judge in Haveln.”
“Haveln? They only hear major felonies. They won’t even accept a flimsy case.”
“Religious sacrilege and human experimentation—that’s plenty. And with enforcement against unlicensed practitioners tightening lately, we have decent odds. So there’s no downside, is there?”
Robinson stroked his jaw.
The man was right.
There was nothing to lose.
“Fine. We’ll do as you suggest.”
“Thank you. But to ensure the matter is settled conclusively, we’ll need some funds.”
The man grinned and extended his palm.
Robinson’s eyes narrowed.
“You’ve only hatched the plot. What makes you think money will help you dig up evidence?”
“Good heavens, sir. First we need to move public opinion within Dunford itself. If we establish the notion that something is wrong with them, then when the judgment comes down, we can sweep them away in an instant.”
The man’s lips curled upward.
Robinson sighed and withdrew a leather money pouch from a drawer, pressing it into the man’s hand.
“If things don’t go smoothly, I’ll have it all confiscated.”
“Of course, of course, sir. Rest assured.”
The man quickly pocketed the pouch and vanished through the clinic door in a flurry.
Once he’d left, Robinson leaned back in his chair and rubbed his brow.
‘Beneath my dignity and standing, yet here I am, wading into the mud….’
In truth, employing underhanded tactics to drive out a rival was scarcely in keeping with the self-respect of a man who styled himself a gentleman.
A respectable surgeon forced to move like some third-rate schemer.
And yet, for all that, he could think of no other clever stratagem to protect his immediate livelihood.
Above all, he was certain that Allen Wright was an unlicensed practitioner harboring grave secrets.
He believed that once brought before the court, the man’s false veneer would be stripped away for all to see.
Just then, heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor, and the clinic door swung wide open.
“Darling! What on earth are you doing here!”
Mrs. Robinson appeared, her face flushed with indignation.
She was dressed in an ornate Calden-style new dress, one her husband had scarcely afforded by emptying his coffers only days before.
“…You’ve come back from the party already?”
Robinson asked carefully, but instead of answering, his wife brought her fan down against the desk with a sharp crack and fixed him with a cutting stare.
Robinson involuntarily flinched, his shoulders hunching.
“Do you have any idea what humiliation I suffered at Mrs. Parker’s salon today? The society ladies of Green Hills were openly whispering that you’re losing all your patients to the Edward Clinic!”
“My dear, please compose yourself. Your voice is far too loud.”
“Do I look composed to you? You are the only surgeon of standing in this upper district of Dunford! And yet you sit there, swallowing this insult from that low-born, pint-sized charlatan, all for the sake of keeping face?”
“It’s only a temporary lull in patients. People have simply been healthy lately….”
“Don’t lie to me! Even Mrs. Parker’s own relatives have switched to that dwarf’s clinic!”
Robinson’s fists clenched. A vein pulsed blue at his temple.
“They’re using disreputable folk remedies to hoodwink people. I am a man of principle who upholds the Guild’s standards—”
“Your wife came home from society with her head hung in shame and humiliation, and now you lecture me about honor and gentlemanliness? What of my standing!”
Mrs. Robinson’s voice rose to a shout as she looked down at her husband with utter contempt.
“Do something about those charlatans at once! You have connections at the authorities. If they resort to underhanded tricks, you must face them squarely and have them punished!”
Having said her piece, the woman swept out of the room, her skirts rustling sharply behind her.
Left alone, Robinson exhaled deeply and wiped the cold sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.
“…Underhanded tricks. Underhanded tricks indeed.”
He muttered to himself, staring at the flickering candleflame that wavered precariously.
And finally, as if his resolve had hardened, he clenched his fists again with terrible force.
* * *
One week later, in Haveln.
A half-day’s journey from Dunford by carriage, this city was the administrative center of one of the Empire’s forty-two divisions.
Robinson descended from the carriage.
Before him stood the imposing edifice of Haveln Court.
The stone building, with the Imperial seal carved clearly upon it, was more massive than any structure in Dunford.
‘Curse it. So I’ve come to this after all.’
Robinson struggled to suppress the sense of oppression that washed over him.
Though Dunford was a considerable city in its own right, Haveln was at least twice, perhaps three times, larger and more magnificent.
‘I haven’t come here to slander and deceive. I’m acting to expose an unlicensed practitioner and safeguard public health in Dunford.’
Having finished his shabby self-justification, he straightened his appearance with care.
Then he stepped boldly into the courthouse.
The lobby was crowded with people come to settle disputes.
Under the guidance of a uniformed official, Robinson ascended to the second floor.
“Please wait here for a moment.”
A clerk ushered him into a small anteroom.
While waiting, Robinson set a box of documents on his lap and wiped his perspiration with a handkerchief.
There were three essential documents in total.
First, a formal complaint: “A person of exceedingly obscure origins and identity, using a local surgeon as cover, is practicing medicine without license, and has unlawfully administered an untested, dangerous substance to children.
Furthermore, he has conducted human experiments on the orphans of the Orphanage.”
Second, a petition explaining why the case bypassed Dunford’s local court and went directly to the higher administrative court.
The claim was that “the chief clerk and other officials of Dunford have already fallen under the spell of the Edward Clinic’s deceptions and have a compromised relationship through receiving treatment there, making fair and objective judgment impossible within the locality.”
The final document was a formal complaint signed by Gabriel, the chief priest.
This was Robinson’s strongest card.
When Robinson first made contact with the priest, the elderly man had flown into a rage upon learning that Allen had defied his orders and inoculated the children with cow pus.
And right then and there, he had prepared the accusation.
‘The act of injecting animal pus into human beings is a grave sin that directly contradicts the will of the Creator, and despite this priest’s explicit refusal, the practitioner in question forcibly administered the procedure to ignorant children in the Orphanage without consent.’
The somewhat lacking authority had been filled by this weighty accusation, single page though it was. He felt as though nothing could shake him now.
Creak.
The door swung open and a court clerk poked his head in.
When the clerk gave the signal to enter, Robinson clutched the documents to his chest and stepped into the justice’s office.
The Judge seated behind the desk was older than Robinson had expected.
He looked to be well past sixty.
At first glance he resembled a kind-hearted scholar, but the light in his eyes beyond his spectacles was sharp as a blade.
“You are Mr. Robinson of Dunford?”
“Yes, Your Honor. I am Robinson, a surgeon in private practice in Dunford.”
“Please, be seated.”
The Judge gestured to a chair and unfolded the documents on his desk.
They were the preliminary accusations Robinson had sent earlier.
The elderly Judge read through the sentences once more with meticulous care, though he must have already reviewed them several times.
Not a flicker crossed his face.
Robinson found the silence unbearable.
Yet he held his tongue, fearing that speaking too hastily might lead him to stumble over his words.
“So you come from Dunford.”
“Yes.”
“You came directly here, without going through the local courts.”
“Yes. I determined that a fair hearing would be difficult, given that many in the region have connections to the Edward Clinic.”
The Judge paused, his gaze fixed for a moment, then turned the page again.
“Hmm.”
A brief sound.
Whether it signaled approval or displeasure, Robinson could not tell.
At last, the Judge closed the documents with an audible snap and lifted his head to regard Robinson intently.
“Mr. Robinson. Ordinarily, a matter such as this—a complaint against some quack practitioner—would not be something a central magistrate like myself would deign to handle directly.”
Robinson felt his heart plummet into his stomach.
He swallowed dryly.
Could the charges themselves be dismissed?
Just as his heart began to race, the Judge drew out the moment and continued in a low voice.
“……However.”

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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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