Hospital

Shaya and Sebas hadn't walked far. After turning a few blocks, they arrived outside a green-roofed house with a yard.

The house had two stories, and one side featured many arched openings, revealing an open-air corridor inside, where some people in black robes could be seen walking.

A prominent cross stood erect on the roof.

A vertical sign hung on the gateposts at the entrance, bearing the words "Queen's District Central Hospital."

"I bet the doctors here aren't as diligent as I am when I visit," Sebas remarked, looking at the hospital sign.

"The quacks here always give me new experiences."

"Is it that bad?" Shaya asked curiously.

This was supposed to be an officially established hospital. If the doctors here were unreliable, it was hard to imagine what the situation would be elsewhere.

"Yesterday, I took someone away from here. Guess why they died?" Sebas asked.

Shaya shook his head and smiled, "I don't have the Book of the Dead."

"He bled to death," Sebas said. "This hospital has a treatment method: cutting veins or arteries in the forearm or neck to let blood. They'd do it for everything from plague and smallpox to epilepsy and gout.

Honestly, if he hadn't come to the hospital, that guy would have lived for at least another ten years."

Shaya nodded. He wasn't surprised. After all, this era was at the beginning of the First Industrial Revolution. Although it was decades ahead, the overall level was roughly equivalent to the eighteenth century.

At this time, Western medicine's treatments mostly consisted of only three methods: enemas, bloodletting, and inducing vomiting. The drugs they touted were mostly sulfur, saltpeter, mercury, and lead.

Things only began to change gradually as the results of the Industrial Revolution started to show, and antibiotics and bacteria were discovered.

However, bloodletting therapy didn't begin to decline until the mid-nineteenth century.

"Compared to going to the hospital, people have more faith in the folk remedies of witch doctors," Sebas quipped.

As they talked, the two walked into the hospital. Unlike the hospitals Shaya had visited before, which had a strong smell of disinfectant, this one had a very pungent herbal scent, a sharp mix of floral notes and the smell of blood.

The environment here couldn't be called clean either. The timber-framed walls had some mottled black patches, it was unclear if they were stained by herbs or something else.

Shaya even saw cobwebs, clearly indicating that the cleaning staff didn't often bother with the ceilings.

The clothing of the hospital staff, people in black robes coming and going, whether doctors or nurses, clearly showed traces of blood and herbs, looking like they hadn't been washed in a long time.

By this time, some people should have started discovering traces of microorganisms, but clearly, no one had applied this knowledge to medicine, and disinfection methods were not perfect.

The bloodstains on these doctors might even have been seen as a symbol of experience.

Faint sobbing could be heard from the corridor. Outside a ward not far away, a young woman in her twenties sat on a chair, crying with her face buried in her hands.

Crying could also be heard from inside the ward. Against the backdrop of the faint smell of blood, it sounded particularly oppressive.

However, the people in black robes passing by seemed accustomed to it, completely ignoring the crying person, indifferent and calm.

Shaya looked at these people and said with a hint of amusement, "Sebas, I think these people are more like Grim Reapers than you are."

"Indeed, I haven't killed as many people as these folks."

Sebas said noncommittally, lowering his voice and whispering in Shaya's ear.

"I've heard some rumors that for just 20 pounds of silver, you can get a medical degree or a practicing license from Britannia's most prestigious university or research institution without even attending a single class.

Of course, the authenticity of this remains to be verified."

"The fact that such rumors can spread, in a way, is already absurd," Shaya said.

This meant a considerable number of people believed these rumors.

Sebas smiled. "Then I'll go to work now."

Shaya nodded.

However, to Shaya's surprise, Sebas didn't go directly into the ward. Instead, he walked straight to the crying young woman and took out a handkerchief from his pocket, offering it to her.

The young woman slowly raised her red and swollen eyes, looking at Sebas with a bit of confusion. However, she still took the handkerchief and wiped away her tears.

"Thank you."

Sebas sighed and patted the young woman's shoulder.

"My condolences. Everyone in life experiences death at least once. Besides, he was sixty-two years old, which is a long life. This is a very natural thing."

"I know, but... but..."

The young woman's eyes reddened again. She covered her face with the handkerchief and sobbed, "I thought he would stay with us for a few more years."

"Such is Destiny," Sebas said. "But his death is only the death of the body. All the memories you shared with him will not disappear.

As long as you remember him, he will live forever in your hearts."

Sebas's words seemed very convincing. The young woman wiped her eyes and looked at him, saying, "Thank you for your comfort. You are truly a gentleman."

Only then did Shaya confirm that Sebas wasn't here to harvest the young woman's soul, but was indeed comforting her.

He crossed his arms over his chest, watching the scene with great interest.

Who would have thought this guy was quite the softie, he thought.

Then, Shaya heard Sebas say.

"You should calm yourselves now and think about how to handle his funeral, ensuring his final journey in this world is dignified and honorable."

The young woman pondered for a moment and nodded. "That's true."

Then, a hint of confusion appeared on her face. "But I don't know how to do it."

Sebas offered a slight smile. He took out a small card from his pocket and handed it to the young woman.

"This is my business card, please take a look."

The young woman curiously accepted the card. Shaya also used magic to look at the writing on the card, and his expression froze almost at the same time as the young woman's.

It read:

[Talos Funeral Services]

[Scope of Business: Coffins, Urns, Embalming and Cosmetic Services, Funeral Customization.]

[Address: 122c Cole Street]

[Sebas Tiatit]

"I have provided services to many guests at this hospital," Sebas said with a formal smile, bowing slightly. "They all gave me excellent reviews. Our establishment offers a variety of funeral service packages to choose from, guaranteeing that your loved one's departure will be grand and dignified."

The young woman's mind was a bit hazy. She couldn't quite reconcile the gentle and experienced gentleman she had just spoken with, with the funeral home salesman standing before her.

She covered her head. "I... I'll think about it."

"Talos will always welcome your visit," Sebas said, bowing again.

He then walked into a nearby ward, though the young woman didn't seem to notice.

A few minutes later, Sebas emerged from the ward and approached Shaya.

"So, the shop you mentioned opening in the Imperial Capital is a funeral service business?" Shaya asked.

"Yeah," Sebas replied, looking puzzled. "Is that strange?"

"No, it's very fitting for you, or rather..."

Shaya teased, "What could be more competitive than a funeral service business run by the Grim Reaper?"

"Even the Grim Reaper has to eat," Sebas chuckled. "The salary I earn in the Underworld is too impractical to spend in the living world, but I still need to spend money here, so I have to earn it myself."

He said earnestly, "You wouldn't believe it, but although this hospital has many incompetent doctors, the treatment fees are genuinely high. Those who can afford to stay and pay for treatment here... generally don't skimp on holding a grand funeral."

Shaya raised an eyebrow and nodded.

They had spent a long time in this hospital, and as Sebas had said, the mortality rate here was indeed not low.

Shaya felt that in this era, it was less important to ask what illness people died from, and more important to ask which doctor they died under.

It wasn't until past four in the afternoon that they left the hospital.

"It's not like this many people die every time," Sebas said with a strange expression. "It's just that Doctor Helens was particularly energetic today."

Surgical procedures in this era were naturally not as precise as in modern society, the most common being amputations.

However, the massive blood loss, pain, and wound infections during amputations were unavoidable. This was because there was no anesthesia, no sterilization techniques, no antibiotics, and no concept of blood transfusions. Doctors here simply cut and didn't bother with aftercare.

Their usual procedure was to knock the patient unconscious, quickly saw off the diseased limb, and the patient would wake up screaming. After the amputation, the doctor would press a red-hot iron onto the wound to quickly cauterize the bleeding.

Doctors didn't focus on holding their scalpels steadily; they focused on "speed."

During amputations, if the process dragged on, the patient would either die from the pain or from excessive bleeding and hypovolemic shock.

Of course, there was also death from wound infection.

In short, the surgery had to be completed before the patient fully regained consciousness.

Doctor Helens was a renowned "fast-handed" surgeon, but his hands were a bit too fast today.

He cleanly severed the patient's lower limb in one stroke. Due to excessive force, he also accidentally removed one of the patient's testicles and two of his assistant's fingers.

Furthermore, a spectator observing the surgery fainted from shock and died after witnessing the gruesome scene. The patient died the next day.

According to Sebas, his assistant would also die from infection in his severed fingers.

This was the first time Shaya had witnessed a single surgery result in three deaths.

Of course, this was merely a limitation of the era.

This "butcher of blood," — cough, cough — Doctor Helens, who acted with benevolence, was quite dedicated. To save lives, he had performed thirteen consecutive surgical operations since yesterday, successfully rescuing three people from the Grim Reaper's grasp.

"Anything else?" Shaya asked.

"Just one last one left."

Sebas turned his head and looked into the distance.

It was in the direction of the Imperial Palace.