DNTMC 03

Chapter 3

At those words, Figueras crooked the corner of his mouth.

While he had been diligently sharpening his knowledge of new medicine, Miguel apparently remained stuck in the medical practices of several decades ago.

For a man blinded by money, even the title of doctor is too good for him. What a fat pig, with nothing but grease around his belly.

As Figueras muttered insults about his longtime classmate under his breath, Diego’s low voice cut across the room.

There was an inexplicable power in his languid voice.

“I’ve heard that the atmosphere of the medical college has changed over the past few years. I hear that surgery, which was once considered the exclusive domain of barbers, is now being systematically organized and taught to students.”

The dean answered with a proud expression.

“Of course, Your Highness. Our Divoa Royal Medical College is the most progressive medical college on the continent. Ten years ago, we took the initiative to grant women the right to enroll, and since then, we have produced numerous excellent female doctors. It is a well-known fact that this has significantly reduced the mortality rates of royal and noble women, as well as the mortality rate of newborns.

“And this time, we were the first on the continent to incorporate surgery into our curriculum. It was the first major innovation I attempted after becoming dean.”

“I heard that the first students to study it are now about to graduate. That is why I have come all the way here.”

At Diego’s words, the expressions of the three students subtly changed.

Even though the era when barbers performed surgery had passed, the perception that surgery was inferior to internal medicine had not disappeared.

Cutting bones with saws and stitching flesh with needles was hardly considered the kind of refined work suitable for the children of nobles.

For noble sons who were not firstborns, there was hardly a more honorable achievement than becoming a doctor and eventually taking a position as a royal physician.

And that opportunity was now right in front of them.

But Diego wanted a surgeon.

A surgeon who could stitch the wounds of injured soldiers and set their broken bones.

Besides, wasn’t that closer to being a military doctor than a personal physician?

At that moment, Diego added another remark.

“As you know, His Majesty is greatly concerned. I hear that whenever I go to the battlefield, he loses sleep at night. If I had an excellent surgeon by my side, would that not ease His Majesty’s worries?”

No one was unaware of how much affection the king had for his youngest son.

Despite the king’s repeated attempts to dissuade Diego, he continually returned to his territory. On one occasion, the king had even officially ordered him to remain in the capital.

But Diego ultimately persuaded his father and returned to his territory, where he successfully defended Divoa’s borders against provocations from the Kingdom of Albar.

Each time, the king would cheer at his son’s heroic exploits while simultaneously worrying himself sick about whether Diego had been injured.

He would even send officials to find out how Diego was doing, impatiently demanding news of him.

The record of the king lamenting,

If I had known this would happen, I would have granted him a different territory instead of Norte.

was still occasionally brought up in conversation.

“I need a surgeon to take with me to the battlefield.”

Maxi’s mind began racing.

Should I preserve my lofty pride and remain an internal medicine doctor? Or should I become a surgeon and seize the connection to Grand Duke Cassis, even if it means enduring ridicule from my classmates?

The opportunity to become a royal physician was not something that came along often.

Even if a vacancy opened up in the position, there was no guarantee that an opportunity would ever reach someone like Maxi.

But if he became a surgeon, there would be no avoiding the ridicule of his classmates.

Just as Maxi was caught between the two choices, unable to decide—

“Who among those present is the top student?”

At Diego’s casual question, a brief silence fell over the room.

There was no way Diego had failed to notice it.

His gaze moved from Maxi to David and then to Jose.

As though they had rehearsed it beforehand, all three subtly avoided his eyes.

Oh?

For the first time, interest appeared in Diego’s previously bored eyes.

This time, he stared intently at Figueras.

Under that persistent gaze demanding an answer, Figueras had no choice but to move his lips.

“Maxi Rosano here entered our medical college as the second-ranked student and completed every subject with excellent grades.

“He is also an outstanding talent who passed this year’s medical examination as the second-ranked student. Not only in internal medicine and gynecology, but also in surgery, he has demonstrated exceptional—”

“So, who is the top student?”

Before Figueras could finish, Diego repeated the same question.

His voice sounded languid at first, gentle as the afternoon sunlight.

His eyes narrowed into thin slits as he stared at Figueras, almost as though he were smiling.

Yet for some reason, it became difficult to breathe.

Not only Figueras but all three students were unable to raise their heads, as though someone were pressing down on them.

Only Javier understood the difference between a scholar who had spent his entire life with books and a soldier who had crossed the line between life and death countless times.

Overwhelmed by Diego’s intimidating presence, Figueras finally exhaled the breath he had been holding and spoke.

“The top student is… not here.”

One of Diego’s eyebrows rose.

His gaze shifted toward the dean, carrying an unmistakable implication of responsibility.

“I believe I specifically asked for the three students with the highest grades. Did my servant relay my instructions incorrectly?”

His tone remained polite, but the atmosphere surrounding Diego changed completely.

“N-No, of course not.”

Cold sweat once again appeared on the dean’s forehead.

At this point, he began to wonder whether the newspaper story about Diego asking a maid whether she was hurt after breaking his teacup had really been true.

The dean lowered his voice and reprimanded Figueras.

“I told you to bring the three students with the highest grades. Was that really so difficult, Professor Figueras?”

Figueras kept his mouth firmly shut.

Only after a long while did he mutter,

“I’m sorry.”

Diego slowly rose from his seat.

The dean’s gaze followed him.

The tall man looked down at them from above, his eyes still narrowed into a faint smile.

“So, where is the top graduate of the Royal Medical College right now?”

“In the anatomy room…”

“The anatomy room? Then summon her here immediately!”

At the dean’s shout, Diego shook his head.

“That won’t be necessary. I’ll go there.”

“Pardon? Ah, yes. Then I’ll show you the way, Your Highness. This way.”

The dean hurried to the door at a speed that seemed impossible for someone of his build and opened it.

Diego and Javier left the room one after another.

Finally, the dean shot Figueras a fierce glare, muttered something with only his lips, and closed the door.

Bang.

“Hah.”

Maxi stared blankly at the closed door.

He had thought the choice was his to make.

Apparently, that had been a mistake.

“No.”

He shook his head.

There was still a chance.

Once Diego met the top graduate, he would surely come looking for him again.

He had no other choice.

Maxi smiled confidently.

Gloves were practically a part of Irene herself.

Irene hated the moment when skin touched skin so much that she could hardly bear it.

She hated the lukewarm warmth of another person’s body.

She hated the soft sensation of flesh against her skin.

No.

The truth was, she was afraid.

The conceited sea anemone had been right.

Irene would never be able to become a doctor who treated people.

“You knew that I liked dissecting corpses too.”

Come to think of it, the sea anemone surprisingly understood quite a lot about Irene.

Of course, a cnidarian was still a cnidarian.

Irene casually removed her gloves and covered half her face with a clean cloth to block the foul stench that stabbed at her nostrils.

But the smell of the rotting corpse did not lessen in the slightest.

“I probably won’t ever get used to this smell, even until the day I die.”

The anatomy room contained only one cold corpse and Irene.

It was also the only moment when Irene’s mind could truly find peace.

If she ever said that aloud, however, the rumors that she was a witch would only become more rampant.

Irene firmly gripped the knife in one hand.

The cool sensation against her bare hand felt pleasant.

Cold was preferable to warmth.

As though shaking off a brief thought, Irene lightly tilted her head.

Then, without hesitation, she moved her hand.

The sharp tip of the knife smoothly sliced through the skin.

The flesh parted, but blood did not gush from the body of the condemned man, who had been dead for a long time.

That was another reason Irene liked corpses.

Blood that was so bright red and hot that it stung the eyes was just as frightening as human body heat.

“The heart first.”

Irene put down the knife and picked up a saw.

Then she immediately began cutting through the ribs.

Scrrrk. Scrrrk.

A dull, scraping sound filled the room.

It was difficult work even for a strong man.

For the extremely thin Irene, it required even more strength and time than it did for others.

As expected, beads of sweat formed across Irene’s round forehead.

She could understand why surgery had come to be regarded as a lowly occupation performed by barbers.

It was far too crude a task for an internal medicine doctor from a noble family.

But Irene never complained.

She simply did the work she had to do in silence.

She placed a chisel against the bone and struck it with a hammer.

The weakened bone cracked and broke with a sharp sound.

She had never counted, but she had probably repeated this process dozens of times.

Perhaps even hundreds.

As a result, Irene’s movements were fluid, without a single moment of hesitation.

Sawing through bone.

Using a lever to spread the ribs apart.

Everything flowed seamlessly.

It almost looked like a dance.

The smoothness of her movements was powerful enough to make even such a rough and brutal act resemble a dance.

“Haa…”

At last, Irene’s heart was revealed before her eyes.

After remaining bent over for a long time, Irene leaned backward and exhaled the breath she had been holding.

Her eyes sparkled as she wiped away her sweat.

A dark-red heart was visible inside the bones.

It was a heart that had still been beating only a few days ago.

Irene was not interested in knowing what crime had caused the scar-faced man to be executed.

What interested her was what shape his heart had been, how much his liver weighed, and so on.

Her fingers itched with the desire to remove the heart immediately.

But Irene’s role ended here.

It was unfortunate, but all the organs had to remain in their proper places for the anatomy class of her juniors.

Irene stared at the heart with eyes filled with lingering regret before slowly turning around.

Perhaps this was why she had earned nicknames such as Witch, Grim Reaper, and Madwoman.

“I should be careful not to make it too obvious how much I enjoy this.”

Irene walked toward the basin in the corner of the anatomy room and washed the blood from her hands.

She lathered them with soap and scrubbed beneath every fingernail with a sponge.

Not only Maxi, but even the professors who taught anatomy did not wash their hands after dissecting corpses.

Irene knew she was unusually meticulous.

“No wonder they tease me for being a clean freak.”

Just as she muttered to herself while looking at her reddened fingertips, she heard quiet footsteps.

Irene stopped washing her hands and raised her head.

It was not yet class time.

She was certain of that without even taking out her pocket watch.

It could not have taken her that long to cut open the corpse’s abdomen.

After all, it was Irene Rios.

“Two… no, three.”

Moreover, it did not sound like a crowd of students approaching.

Between the footsteps of two people, there was one additional, faint set of footsteps.

It was so quiet that Irene would not have noticed it if she were anyone else.

As Irene stared at the door, the footsteps headed directly toward the anatomy room.

Before long, the closed door opened.

“Irene Rio—… hmm?”