The Immortal Duke’s Physician Is an Internist - Chapter 37

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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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4.
After Everlaine’s resignation was rejected.
The Mansion returned to its former peace.
Perhaps the Black Mages had decided to exercise caution upon learning that their comrade’s core had shattered; for a time, the Mansion remained undisturbed by any assault.
I, too, continued as I always had—checking the household’s meals, monitoring their health, attending to the daily rhythms of care.
Of course, I did not neglect my meticulous observation of the Duke’s condition.
On one quiet afternoon.
With the Duke seated in the Examination Room, I positioned a glass slide beneath the microscope.
“Well then, allow me to present my findings.”
The Duke asked with evident curiosity.
“Is this that ‘cell’ you mentioned, teacher?”
“Yes, exactly. More precisely, it’s an oral epithelial cell.”
Four days prior.
I had collected oral epithelial cells from Caerun, Everlaine, and the Duke, placed them on slides, and applied staining reagent.
It was the same experiment I’d conducted in science class during middle school.
“I merely followed your instructions, teacher, but this microscope is a remarkably curious device. Truly inventive.”
“I was astonished as well. That you could craft it so excellently, my Lord.”
“Seven hundred twenty years of self-sufficiency teaches one to fabricate nearly anything.”
It stood to reason that no microscope from the modern world existed in this place.
So I had marshaled every fragment of knowledge I possessed about microscope design, sketched the blueprints, and the Duke—that MacGyver of nobility—had fashioned one from my specifications.
Thus I was able to conduct my “comparative cell observation experiment: ordinary persons versus the Immortal.”
I rotated the slide and continued my explanation.
“When I observed the oral epithelial cells of all three subjects at room temperature, the ordinary persons’ cells showed no response—they were dead. But as you can see now, my Lord, your cells remain alive.”
The Duke nodded thoughtfully.
Though the concepts of cell walls and nuclei surely existed nowhere in his mind, he could at least clearly see something moving beyond the lens.
“Curious about what these cells might react to, I tested various solutions. Acidic solutions had no effect, nor did hot water or alcohol.”
“I have in fact tasted and applied all those myself. None proved particularly effective.”
“As I suspected. However, when I rubbed them with a silver spoon, I observed the cell membrane deteriorating. But within roughly an hour, it had restored itself. So while silver is indeed your weakness, it isn’t lethal—that’s my conclusion.”
The Duke listened intently to my explanation. I detailed each solution I had attempted in turn.
“And lastly—you mentioned it before, my Lord. That my heart races when I weep.”
The Duke’s face stiffened abruptly. He turned his head aside, let out a few dry coughs, then straightened himself.
“……Yes, that’s so. But why?”
“Afterward, I pondered it carefully. Why does your heart race when you see me cry? I believe it’s because…….”
I paused and studied the Duke’s face.
Something anxious in it. Tense.
Seeing his slightly flushed expression, I judged my hypothesis had some credibility after all.
“I suspect my tears may trigger an allergic reaction.”
“……What?”
“You know how some people’s eyes water and noses run at pine pollen or flower dust. How peach skin alone can cause their skin to erupt. By similar logic, I believe my tears act as an antigen in your case, causing your heart to race dramatically. Ah, an antigen is…….”
“……I am, my heart is. Responding to your tears. Lionel Frenschias.”
When the Duke spoke those words, I must admit—I felt a small flutter.
What woman could feel unmoved when the world’s greatest beauty utters something straight from a romance film prologue?
But I quickly came to my senses.
Having survived the Everlaine incident, I had finally accepted that this world, though it belongs to “The Flower That Never Wilts,” is being diverted from its original course by my presence as an outsider named Lionel.
Yet the original narrative’s fundamental settings remain unchanged.
Which meant the Duke would eventually…….
‘Fall in love with the heroine. It may take time, but it will happen.’
Therefore, no matter how honeyed his words, I must not deceive myself. I am not the heroine.
Steeling myself mentally, I resolved to approach his words from a different angle.
From a perspective befitting an internist—thoroughly scientific and medical.
“So I wanted to see whether your tears might trigger some chemical reaction, and I dropped some onto your oral epithelial cells. There was no reaction as I’d hoped, but I believe there’s value in continuing the research!”
As I prattled on about my future research plans, the Duke regarded me with an expression of utter exasperation.
Struck by how emotion so openly played across a face usually so composed, I asked.
“Why that expression? Did I say something strange?”
“Teacher. When I spoke just now, did you feel even the slightest…….”
The Duke stopped abruptly mid-sentence. I leaned forward eagerly.
“My Lord? Do you know what the two ways to drive someone mad are? One is to start speaking and then stop. The other is…….”
“…….”
“Oh, tell me already! It’s driving me to distraction!”
“……Sigh.”
The Duke dried his face with a swift motion and rose from his seat. With his brow deeply furrowed, he turned to me and spoke curtly.
“I’m not teaching you.”
“……I’m sorry?”
The Duke swept from the Examination Room radiating an aura that screamed ‘I am in a foul mood.’
He seemed desperate to escape, but I still had business with him.
“Wait, Your Grace! Just a moment! There’s still something I need to tell you!”
The Duke stopped and turned back to face me. For a moment, an expression crossed his face as if to say ‘I knew it’—then it vanished.
“Can I patent this microscope?”
The brief flash of resignation disappeared from his features the instant he heard my words.
“……What?”
“This is genuinely revolutionary, Your Grace. If I patent it, we’ll make a fortune. I designed it, but you manufactured it, so I’ll give you 8% royalties!”
Instead of answering, the Duke clenched his teeth.
Had my proposal struck a nerve? I continued cautiously.
“Did I offer too little? I thought I was being generous. Fine—I’ll give you 10%!”
“I don’t need it! Patent it or don’t—suit yourself!”
The Duke slammed the door shut and left. I opened it again and called after him.
“Thank you! Then I’ll keep all the profits!”
The Duke disappeared down the corridor without acknowledging me.
Then again, after accumulating wealth for seven hundred and twenty years, whatever I added would be like dropping a single drop of water into a soy sauce jar.
I peered back into the microscope.
The cells were still moving vibrantly, and as I watched them, I began to consider what came next.
In truth, there wasn’t much to deliberate. I already knew what I had to do.
“I really do need to find the heroine.”
Until now, I’d avoided seeking her out because of the original story’s tragic trajectory—the Everyone Dies Ending.
But.
‘Everlaine didn’t die either. He survived. So if the heroine comes to this Mansion, we can reach a different ending than the original. In fact, we have to.’
If I found the heroine, brought her to the Mansion, made her fall in love with the Duke, and the two of them spent a passionate night together, then the Duke’s curse would break…….
My thoughts halted abruptly there.
That scene had been one that made me, as a reader, catch my breath with excitement and anticipation.
But imagining the Duke actually doing that stirred something strange within me.
“No, wait……. Lionel. Does your feeling matter right now? You need to focus on breaking the Duke’s curse.”
I stood up.
For now, I planned to investigate the Cresto Convent, where the heroine was supposedly training.
* * *
Meanwhile, in Blassion’s Office.
Caerun stood rigidly, watching the Duke seated at his desk.
The Immortal’s adjutant had known from the moment he entered the room that his lord was in a thoroughly sour mood.
—Everlaine. Why is the Duke so gloomy today? Do you know anything?
Caerun’s silent questioning glance was answered by Everlaine in kind.
—I have no idea.
—You don’t? Then what’s with that mirror?
—He’s been staring at it like that since I arrived.
Even as the subordinates exchanged these silent remarks, Blassion continued gazing intently at his own reflection in the mirror.
Then he asked abruptly.
“Caerun.”
“Yes?”
“Am I ugly?”
Caerun nearly choked.
—Oh, for heaven’s sake…….
—Be silent.
—Now I have to flatter my superior’s face too?
Though the complaint rose to the tip of his tongue, Caerun, being a professional, held it back.
The man was handsome, after all.
“Y-Your Grace. Of course not. You are quite handsome. Do you have any idea how many proposals of marriage arrived for you just today alone?”
“……So I’m the kind of face women fall for.”
“Yes, sir.”
It was true, but still infuriating nonetheless. He nearly felt like submitting his resignation on the spot.
Whether or not Caerun entertained such thoughts, Blassion remained lost in his own world.
After staring at the mirror for some time longer, he muttered to himself.
“But why is the reaction like that?”

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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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