Ryan's Cousin at the Door

The patient's companions quickly disappeared with him through the classroom door.

Kraft understood them perfectly. He did not need to lie on the stone table himself to experience being watched by a crowd of black-robed people to know that any normal human would feel an instinctive fear when standing in the middle of an Anatomy classroom—especially when they were neither spectator nor operator.

And in Kraft's eyes, the scene felt somewhat familiar.

It was like the first early-morning class every Monday at university. The teacher, carrying a laptop bag and arriving several minutes late because of the previous night's shift, walked into the classroom. Just as he was about to apologize to the students, he discovered there were barely any students there at all.

Yet every time he turned to look at the PPT and then turned back, it seemed as though several more people had appeared in the classroom. After repeating that for ten-odd minutes, when he finished one section and looked up, remembering that he ought to take attendance, he would suddenly discover that half the classroom was somehow full.

Kraft was facing that same familiar supernatural phenomenon. The only difference was that he had once been below the podium, while now he stood above it.

Less than fifteen minutes had passed since he finished examining the patient and performing a manual reduction, yet a classroom with at least forty seats had already been filled two-thirds full by black-robed people who had appeared from who knew where. Latecomers at the door were still poking half their heads inside to see whether they could slip in.

Such dedication to learning made Kraft feel ashamed. After all, he was the sort of ultimate lazy bastard who had never arrived on time for a Monday morning class. Only dormitory defenders who had never attended an early class at all could compete with him. Faced with such a group of learning enthusiasts, their sheer momentum left him speechless.

"Your exquisite family technique is truly astonishing." Seeing that the atmosphere had become a little awkward, a black-robed man seated in the back row hurriedly stood and came down the steps. Lucius, who had been sitting beside him, immediately followed, wearing a slightly embarrassed, sheepish grin half a step behind him.

"This is Professor Calman of our Academy," Lucius introduced. "He heard that a generous noble was willing to share valuable knowledge passed down through his family, so he came especially to offer his thanks." His face had reddened, making it especially obvious against his somewhat pale complexion.

Lucius had originally thought that Kraft seemed like a decent man, and since he was willing to let them observe his family technique but had not specified a number, bringing along Professor Calman, with whom he had a good relationship, should not have been a problem. One more person, after all, seemed harmless enough.

While Kraft was still carefully examining the patient, Lucius had quietly slipped out and knocked on the professor's door.

Then the problem appeared. That was what he had thought, but so had the other two, and so had everyone they invited.

The classic scenario unfolded: "I only told you this" multiplied everywhere in a short span of time. By the time Lucius found Professor Calman in a relatively secluded room and hurried back, forget three people—the first three rows did not even have seats left. The students who had arrived first were already helping Kraft hold down the patient's hands and feet.

"Thank you so much. People willing to share knowledge selflessly are so rare, which is precisely why they are so noble." Professor Calman took one look at the crowd and knew something was wrong. Without showing it, he shifted half a step in front of Lucius, shielding the reckless fool behind him.

The matter was neither major nor minor. Their counterpart was still a noble. Although he had agreed, what exactly was Lucius doing by gathering so many people to watch someone else's inherited family technique?

Professor Calman's line of thought was that nobles were generally susceptible to honor and noble reputations, especially young ones. He would first see if the matter could be smoothed over. Otherwise, if conflict arose, Lucius would probably suffer for it. Later, he could consider offering something tangible as well. They could not let the family come knocking at their door, or the trouble would truly become serious.

"You flatter me. They are only a few minor tricks. If they can be of any help, that would be wonderful." Kraft was a little nervous now as well, though what he was worried about was something entirely different.

He had borrowed a classroom at someone else's Academy without the administrator's permission, only to look up and discover people treating it like a regular class, with a professor sitting in the back row. Just thinking about it was enough to make him break out in a cold sweat in broad daylight.

But this professor's attitude was unexpectedly kind? When Kraft had first begun seeing patients, his teachers had subjected him to deadly chains of eighteen questions every day, each one striking straight at a blind spot in his knowledge. When had he ever received such high-level treatment? Today's situation, well, calling him flattered would not quite be right. He was simply terrified beyond measure.

Good, this was truly excellent, Professor Calman thought. This was exactly the sort of young, virtuous person with little worldly experience, a head full of honor, and utter disdain for material gain. He was practically carved from the same mold as Lucius behind him—brothers from different fathers and mothers.

While Kraft was still nervous, Professor Calman had already more or less figured out what to do.

The professor put on a troubled expression, took Kraft's hand, and said, "Though it may be presumptuous, I hope you will forgive the request of a man of limited ability."

"?"

"That is, in a place that seeks greater knowledge in order to save the lives bestowed by the Heavenly Father, a man like myself is unfortunately lacking in the ability to cultivate those who come after us for such grave responsibilities. Thus, I often hope that someone possessed of both virtue and talent might share this burden..."

"??"

"To make such a request of someone who ought to fulfill a higher calling, causing him to waste his precious time here, truly fills me with shame..."

"???"

"But in order to spare more bodies from suffering, so that they may live out their brief lives in peace and tranquility before returning to the Lord's embrace, I can only make this request with the deepest apologies..."

Please forgive Kraft. When he studied with Teacher Anderson, he had not yet progressed to this stage. This sort of speech that required a deep breath before opening one's mouth, followed by an impossibly long sentence requiring the full capacity of one's lungs, was not particularly easy for him to understand with his literary attainments. After this half-minute combination punch, he had been completely led in circles and probably would not sort it out anytime soon.

"So, I would like to invite someone like you to become a lecturer at the Medical School of Wenden Port Academy." Professor Calman concluded his speech with a summarizing finish.

"Ah, this..."

"Please do not refuse. Even if you cannot come often, that is fine. But if, after studying and exchanging knowledge here, you are willing to take our examination, we are also willing to award you a bachelor's degree in medicine."

Before Kraft could even react, the essence of the matter had already been settled. By Calman's reasoning, a lecturer position was something he could approve on his own. For a noble, it was the sort of thing that looked impressive when displayed to others and demonstrated one's refinement, while for him, quotas were always adjustable.

And a bachelor's degree—bachelor's degrees in this era were not like those among Otherworld Souls, where the annual number started in the millions. Considering how few institutions of higher education existed here, the frighteningly low literacy rate, and the long period of full-time study required for a bachelor's degree, only relatively wealthy merchant families or nobles with such spiritual aspirations would consider such a luxury.

One also had to factor in the high cost of books and the enormous investment of time and energy. Only after passing assessments by professional teachers, and even certain dignitaries or members of The Church, could one obtain it. Once acquired, it qualified one to apply for a teaching license. Its value exceeded even Westminster Gold Coins. It could also be said that Kraft was first being put aboard the lecturer's carriage, then given a ticket to make up the degree through further study and examinations.

"What an honor, what an honor." Kraft looked thoroughly flattered. They had only just met, yet he was already sitting in the professor's room drinking tea. Before him sat the smiling Professor Calman, along with Lucius, who was just as bewildered as Kraft. Holding a biscuit with a bite taken out of it, Lucius seemed to understand what had happened, yet also seemed to understand nothing at all.

"These are several treasures from my youth. They are just right for a Lecturer Kraft, someone devoted to the medical profession. I hope that while studying them, you will also speak more to the students about your own unique understanding of medicine." Professor Calman pushed several neatly bound manuscripts toward him. The edges of their wooden covers had been carefully polished smooth and round.

As far as Kraft remembered, movable-type printing did not seem to have appeared yet. Full-page woodblock printing had not yet achieved the delicacy of carefully copied manuscripts. These manuscripts were things that the little money in his pouch would not even dare dream of. Still, he seemed to understand that the professor meant the books were precious and wanted him to share more of the good things in his head with the students.

"Certainly. It is my honor." Kraft solemnly accepted the books, which were little fellows compared with Internal Medicine and Surgery, as though he had just received five years' worth of pocket money from his grandfather.

Lucius took another bite of his biscuit and found the books somewhat familiar. He swallowed, took a sip of honeyed barley tea to clear his throat, and was about to ask the professor why the books you gave me last time looked so much like these.

The professor gave him a look that said, I still have accounts to settle with you, brat, and made him swallow every word.

Before they knew it, the light outside the window had gradually dimmed. In the warm candlelight, the barley tea and biscuits on the table gave off a pleasant fragrance. The atmosphere was cheerful and peaceful as Kraft and the professor discussed the anatomical principles behind shoulder dislocation, while Lucius nodded repeatedly at the side. The academic atmosphere was so thick that one could use it to conceive a medieval version of the School of Athens, to be painted in the Great Hall of the Medical School.

If such a painting were ever made, Kraft would be willing to give it a name that would be passed down through the ages, appreciated by both the refined and the common.

—Ryan's Cousin at the Door

Kraft's smile froze on his face. After being led around by Calman, he had only now realized that he had forgotten something important: his dear cousin had arranged to meet him at the Academy entrance in the evening.

He looked at the sky outside. It was already so dark that it had absolutely nothing to do with evening.