The Qing side had far more warships.
At least, that's how it seemed to my eyes.
Maybe it's because I've played Age of Empires, or maybe it's just because I'm Korean and more familiar with East Asian history, but I could tell that those small boats moving back and forth were warships.
"Are those warships…?"
On the other hand, it didn't seem that way to Liston or my students.
Well, if I compare them to the ship of the line we're on…
Those flimsy boats in front of us didn't look like warships at all.
Splash.
They were firing cannons, though.
Their range was just laughably short.
They probably knew as they fired.
That they'd never hit us.
But they still fired because we were firing too.
And every time we fired, we sank one of their ships.
I counted up to twenty, but after that, it seemed meaningless, so I stopped.
'Is Lin Zexu… not here?'
Lin Zexu could be called the hero of a fallen nation, and I know that his presence made the Opium War not entirely one-sided.
Well, even so, it was only slightly better than the massacre unfolding before our eyes.
I'm not too familiar with the details, but given that level, wouldn't the Qing, once the powerhouse of the East or at least a former powerhouse, have been reduced to a mere foodie destination?
But if it's like this…
"It's too one-sided… It seems like there's not much for us to do."
That was Colin, who had been seasick the entire time and ended up half-alcoholized.
He looked terribly uncomfortable… Of course, it wasn't like this from the start.
Even so, wouldn't you get excited watching your country beat up another country, especially one of a different race?
But the gap was so wide that it seems his heart wasn't in it.
"No, still… There will be injured people. The cannons seem to shake a lot more than I expected."
Even Liston's expression wasn't great, to the point where his earlier thoughts of "painful treatment" felt out of place.
And for good reason…
"Aaaah!"
"P-please, save me!"
I couldn't understand them since they were speaking Chinese, but I assumed they were saying something along those lines as they lay scattered along the Guangzhou coastline.
They were people who had fallen from the wrecked warships…
Even their uniforms weren't standardized.
For the soldiers of a nation, and soldiers at war, to be like this…
'Clearly, the Qing was already a fallen nation at this time.'
It's a bit of an exaggeration.
The Opium War itself was a terrible thing done by the British, and the Qing were entirely the victims…
But I'm Korean.
Considering not only the Later Jin invasions but also how they harassed our country before that, they deserve worse…
Still, I couldn't feel entirely at ease.
Not because the army being obliterated before my eyes was pitiful.
'Then what about Joseon?'
It's not like things would be worse than this; if anything, they'd be worse.
'I should ask for news when we dock…'
Honestly, a part of me wanted to help Joseon in some way.
But seeing this, my confidence has taken a nosedive.
After all, it's not like Joseon has fallen yet.
There's still a king, and above all, the Andong Kim clan's dominance is probably in full swing.
But what right does someone who's not even from the Andong Kim clan, let alone someone who's been drinking Western water, have to come and lecture?
'Let's not overstep… I'm not Kim Yoo-jin.'
Besides, I'm already feeling a bit overwhelmed.
No matter how you look at it, the Opium War seems to have been pushed forward by seven or eight years, and without Lin Zexu, the Qing is collapsing even more helplessly.
In a way, this happened because of me…
History.
I never dreamed that this massive current of history would change so drastically just because I made amputations a bit easier, brewed some medicine, and treated diabetes in London.
"It's pretty much over."
To my knowledge, in the original history, they didn't immediately bombard Guangzhou.
After all, Lin Zexu would have prepared for years.
So instead, they likely attacked other places first…
But now, Guangzhou, which could be called the gateway city to Hangzhou and Suzhou, has been completely obliterated.
What will become of the Qing now?
'I don't know.'
No matter how much I think about it, I don't know.
And I'm not even given the time to ponder.
"Dr. Pyeong, Liston. There are injured soldiers."
At George Eliot's request, we had to attend to the flood of patients as soon as we docked.
As Liston had expected, there were quite a few injured British soldiers.
Though, of course, there were several times as many injured on the Qing side.
"Please take care of them as well. If you want to win over the people's hearts, healing the sick is the best way."
Should I call it fortunate?
Even if Liston hadn't requested it, George Eliot seemed intent on treating the Qing's wounded as well.
Considering that even in Parliament, there were arguments that this dishonorable war shouldn't be fought, and that the warmongers' stance was strong enough to override that…
There had to be a reason he'd softened so much.
It was likely due to the earlier battle, which seemed almost dull in its one-sidedness.
Anyway.
"Over here!"
"Hmm… His skull is fractured. First, try to sit up."
"Ugh… It hurts so much."
"But the strength in your limbs is normal. Let's just look at the surface for now."
"Aren't you… going to draw the blood?"
"What blood?"
I had to attend to the patients.
Even though we had agreed to treat the Qing's wounded, the British soldiers came first.
It was only natural, and my heart agreed.
After all, a few familiar faces were among the injured.
Though none of them seemed seriously hurt.
"I heard that if you crack open the skull and draw the blood, even someone on the brink of death can survive."
"Ah… that."
There were even some who were lively enough to say such things.
I almost felt like hitting them…
But I held back.
"No. You don't need that."
"R-really?"
"Why are you so disappointed? It's a good thing you're not more seriously injured."
"But… I heard that even people like this can die."
"Just keep praying. Your faith is lacking."
"Ah."
These guys could be handled with verbal massage, meaning I could just talk them through it, since their injuries weren't severe…
"Aaargh…"
"Ugh…"
But the Qing side was different.
Their injuries were so severe that it was hard to believe they'd been in the same battle.
Well, if you include the dead, there were far more of them.
Originally, we'd practically entered the port without bloodshed, and now we were able to use this huge building as a field hospital, which speaks volumes about how one-sided the battle was.
There were even land forces, but they seemed so intimidated that they all fled.
"Aaargh…"
"Damn it. We'll have to amputate."
So the plan to treat them on the ship was scrapped.
All that training Liston and I did on the British coast, rowing boats, was rendered useless…
"Turn on the gas!"
"Yes!"
Still, it wasn't entirely useless, as the Taihei scalpel Liston had made was being put to very good use.
Thud.
Unlike the previous gouging, this time we swung the forward-curving blade to cut through the muscles of the leg,
Crunch.
Colin, a skilled assistant, rushed in to saw through the bone with a saw.
Meanwhile, I set the scalpel down and tied off the blood vessels with Joseph.
In less than ten minutes, one leg was severed.
"Next!"
Liston?
Liston amputated three.
He wasn't even working with a trained military doctor, just one who was there.
Considering that all the military doctor did was control the gas, Liston is truly not human.
Thud.
Another arm was severed.
You might think we're just cutting off limbs willy-nilly because they're Qing people…
But no.
Liston, for some reason, and I—I'm truly only making medical decisions when amputating.
'These bullets… damn it…'
Yet the reason we're amputating so much seems to be because of the bullets.
To be honest, I've never even seen a gunshot wound in South Korea, so I'm not sure.
But from what I recall in movies and dramas, you just pull the bullet out with tweezers, right?
But the bullets embedded in these people's bodies are all shattered.
Even by my recent standards as a lead expert, I can tell these are all lead bullets.
As a result, they've shattered into a goddamn mess.
If it were just a few fragments, I could do something, but this is beyond me.
If left untreated, they'll rot.
So, what else can I do?
Better to cut from above…
"Here, over here!"
Then someone started shouting urgently.
I turned my head and saw that, amidst people having their limbs amputated or lying helplessly waiting for death, someone who had been clutching his chest had collapsed.
I wasn't shocked.
I'd already thought he looked a bit odd.
"Alfred, senior!"
"Huh? Ah, could it be?"
"Yes, that's it! The syringe!"
"O-okay!"
He seemed like a fairly high-ranking person.
After all, even though he was wounded, people were crowding around him.
They weren't armed or anything, just hovering nearby, chattering away.
"Huh? Are you one of us?"
One of the people hovering around started babbling at me.
Not understanding a word of Chinese, I've long since decided to interpret things my way, so I shook my head.
"No! I'm a British Korean!"
"Ko… Korea?"
"Yes, Korea! Step aside first!"
"Uh, uh…"
At the word "Korea," someone scrambled away.
I saw soldiers following him.
I was a bit curious, but…
I listened to his breathing with the stethoscope around my neck, now splattered with blood, and suspected cardiac tamponade.
For a moment, I hated myself for making such a diagnosis without an ultrasound…
But what else could I do?
We have nothing.
"Alfred!"
"Yes!"
I took the syringe from Alfred senior and plunged it deep into the man's chest.
"No!"
"Assassin…!"
"Killer!"
The people around him started shouting, likely something along those lines.
Given the situation, it's understandable, so I decided to bear with it.
Maybe they weren't saying that.
Sluurp.
Besides, I was busy.
I had to pull the syringe back to draw the blood.
Thanks to the chemist uncle, the syringe had been further improved, and while the material was still iron, its functionality was nearly on par with 21st-century syringes.
The rubber stopper had definitely improved, after all.
"Gasp."
As soon as the blood was drawn, the high-ranking man came back to life.
"Oh, Jesus!"
"He's alive!"
"As expected… Dr. Pyeong!"
From the British soldiers who had gathered due to the rumors of the Qing people's limbs being cheerfully amputated to…
"This is…"
"An idiot…? Did he just call him an idiot?"
"Is he really an idiot?"
"Idiot!"
The Qing people also began to worship me with one voice.
Even the man who had just been revived.
"Idiot… Thank you so much."
I don't know what he's saying, but seeing him holding my hand and crying, I can guess.
But… it's still too early.
This guy…
Is still bleeding.
"Uh… uh."
Which means, unless we perform thoracic surgery, we'll have to stick him again.
'Though I'm not sure if that'll save him…'
We've already amputated all the limbs we could, so at this point, it's all or nothing.
Plunge.
As we drew blood and revived the Qing official, the British soldiers started talking with even more serious expressions than before.
"This evil spirit seems quite powerful."
"Indeed, it's the first time I've seen Dr. Pyeong struggle like this."
"Nonsense! It's not that."
"Then what?"
"That guy… he's the Qing commander. Didn't you see today's battle? He must have cursed us beforehand… That's why we won so easily!"
"Ah… I see. As expected… Dr. Pyeong… a shaman…"