In nineteenth-century European cities, corpses were not uncommon.

The most eye-catching thing is the execution ground set up at the intersection of busy streets. People who have committed serious crimes will be hanged here in public to serve as a warning and to demonstrate authority.

But these are official unilateral ideas. The public execution ground often turns into a gathering place for public carnival. They drink wine and cheer as the man falls freely under the noose.

For surgeons who are good at recycling, hanged corpses do not have many wounds and their structures are complete enough, making them high-quality materials for anatomy.

Good quality is good quality, but there are still some shortcomings.

First, most of the people who were tortured were adult men, lacking diversity. Second, the price was too high. One corpse could often be worth several months' salary of a worker. Even for large institutions like hospitals, it is difficult to maintain long-term

Uninterrupted supply.

Since Austria followed the footsteps of Britain, France and Germany and promulgated the relevant "Anatomy Act", the corpses on the execution ground have been blocked outside the doctors' dissecting rooms. No one will convict a guy who stole bread just to sell it for money.

Hanged.

The executioner stepped down from the stage of history, and the gravedigger became the surgeon's "good partner".

Far away from the main city, in those dark alleys, people suffering from hunger, cold and disease will die silently. As long as you have the patience to find them, you can always find one or two in the slums.

Gravediggers often resort to unscrupulous means to resell apparently "unclaimed" bodies to hospitals to earn the price difference.

There are men, women, and children here, with a wide variety and very low cost, but it is difficult to guarantee the quality. The poor living environment is poor, and they often suffer from severe pneumonia, vicious diarrhea, parasitic diseases and large areas of sores. These factors after death

It will speed up the decomposition of the body.

Even the fresh corpses that are available at the first time have some small problems. For example, severe muscle atrophy caused by long-term malnutrition, osteoporosis, and sometimes there are not even a few teeth left in the mouth.

Bad quality is better than no quality, and the vienna corpse market is still active.

Ignatz was so passionate about medicine that he would even give up everything in order to improve his skills. However, his status as a baron made him intimidated by gravediggers, and it was difficult for poor people's corpses to meet his requirements, so he actually did not understand the autopsy table.

What was before him now was a fill-in-the-blank question, and the answer was the police station.

The forensic doctor in the police station was his old friend. In the past, when there were not enough corpses in the execution ground, Ignaz could get some things from him. It was not illegal at the time, but things in the gray area were not very honorable after all, so he went with it.

As his skills become more and more sophisticated, Ignatz has not been there for several years.

Now times have changed, and surgical technology is in urgent need of innovation. He must try his luck there again.

For a famous surgical expert like Ignatz, even if he does not have the title of baron, his face and outfit alone are enough to identify him. There are many fans of him in the police station, and they often go to the theater to support him and come in and out of this place.

It's as convenient as going home.

Of course, Ignatz, who is as dazzling as a star, rarely walks around with fans. There is only one and only one who can truly be called an old friend, Musil.

Musil was an old classmate who graduated from the Vienna University School of Medicine at the same time. Because he couldn't stand the patients dying one by one in front of him, he finally chose the profession of speaking for the dead. Being away from patients further honed his anatomy skills, and even

A different kind of emotion towards corpses was honed.

"You came at the right time, come on, come on, take a look at this beauty..."

As soon as Ignatz entered the door, he was pulled to the dissecting table before he could explain his purpose.

Lying on the cold stone bed in front of her was Rosa, who had just been discovered on Basinger Street. She had blond hair, a well-proportioned figure, and smooth skin, but her face was swollen due to broken bones.

How beautiful it is.(1)

Fortunately, to anatomists, the face is not important.

Musil looked at the corpse with only one broken arm, and his voice was so excited that his voice trembled: "It was just delivered three hours ago. I heard that he committed suicide by jumping off the building and landed on his face. Fortunately, it was on the third floor. If it were higher,

But it’s not that complete.”

"He died on the third floor?" Ignatz felt a little strange. "Last time, the grocery store owner only broke one leg when he accidentally came down from the fifth floor."

Musil sighed, recalling the old man, his face full of pity: "Yes, his body is indeed very strong. Unfortunately, his mind was too fragile and could not bear the pain caused by the amputation. He died the next day

died."

The surgery was performed by Ignatz, so the direction of this sentence is very obvious.

Perhaps it was because the two old friends hadn't seen each other for a long time, so they started talking with all their might and brought out all the old things.

"I need to remind you that it is not my fault that ether anesthesia was not available at the time."

"But that doesn't make it a disaster."

"This was not a disaster. I successfully removed his leg and it only took 1 minute and 21 seconds."

"Ha, if Mr. Scott hadn't been buried for twelve years, he might be leaning on a cane and agreeing with your idea with a smile on his face."

After hearing this, Ignatz could not help but twitch his face twice, and turned his face to look at his old friend: "If you tease me, if my courage can be put to good use in medicine, maybe you will be as famous as me now.

I have a surgeon, but it’s a pity that you don’t have one.”

"Yes, I'm scared." Musil's tone was flat, and he had long lost the enthusiasm he had in the past. "An operation with a mortality rate of more than 50% is meaningless."

"That was your surgery. The mortality rate of my surgery at that time was only 47%, and through my unremitting efforts, it has now been successfully reduced to less than 45%." After Ignatz listed these numbers, he did not forget to add the final sentence.

, "I am now the surgeon with the highest surgical success rate in Austria."

Seeing that he was so excited, Musil changed his expression, smiled and comforted: "Yes, yes, you are better than me, okay? If you have time to argue with me, you might as well spend more time looking at her, she is

He should be our protagonist today!"

Ignatz calmed down and finally focused on the corpse.

The old friend's mouth was a little damaged, but his vision for looking at corpses was quite unique. After checking up and down, he found no other trauma except the head: "She really jumped from the third floor?"

"Why did I lie to you? No. 73, Basinger Street."

"Based on my experience, when you come down from the third floor, your face shouldn't be so shattered. Did you hit something?"

"No, I came down directly."

"A little strange..."

Ignatz felt strange, but his mind was not at all on the cause of Rosa's death. He had only one purpose here, which was to retrieve the body. So after a few words to Musil, he quickly changed the topic to other topics.

Place: "Is she a local?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I guess she lives alone."

"Oh? You can see that?"

Ignatz nodded seriously, and then continued: "I think she looks like a Russian from the east."

"Hey, my face is completely gone. Can you still tell your nationality?"

"No, no, my old friend, the evidence I mentioned is actually the name."

Ignatz walked to his feet and picked up the card on his toe: "Rosa Ivanova, Rosa Petrova, it sounds very natural. Of course, it may also be French, Rosa...

Bonnard, Rosa Vigeri, doesn’t sound bad either. Austrian? Rosa Joseph? Rosa Derling? Ha, that’s weird!”

Musil understood immediately and smiled: "She does live alone, and we can't find the contact information of her family. We should help bury her as required."

"I want 50 crowns."

"You are too straightforward."

"50 kronor is already a high price." Ignatz didn't bother to pretend anymore and asked directly, "Just tell me whether you want to sell it or not."

Musil returned to the body, shook his head and said: "Our detective has not closed the case yet, the body may still be kept."

"Huh? Didn't you say suicide?"

"That's what the people on the street said. They just saw her fall down. I just said that she lives alone. Who knows what happened in the room. Besides, you know, Inspector Witte is always serious. No.

Maybe we can let go of this suspicion."

Musil picked up the scalpel on the side and said: "Otherwise, you can close this case. As long as the detective closes the case, I will submit the application so that I can get off work early. What do you think of the proposal?"

"How can I have this ability..."

Ignatz has no way to decide the direction of the case, but he still has the qualification to be ranked first on the buyer's list: "No matter what, the body is mine as long as no one claims it. We have agreed, 50

Krone, you can't sell it to anyone else!"

"OK, no problem."

...

Ignatz turned around and left the anatomy room. To be honest, this trip did not yield much.

Given the detective's cautious style, it would take at least three days for the case to be concluded. By that time, the operation would have been over, and even if the corpse left in the autopsy room had been soaked in whiskey, there would be no way to stop the decay.

What's more, it's impossible for the police department to preserve the body with whiskey that everyone wants to try. Looking around the world, only anatomists can resist the temptation of alcohol.

Just as he dejectedly stepped out of the police station gate and prepared to return to the hospital, a black carriage drove from a distance. The driver was dressed in black and wore a black hat on his head. The police station's logo was printed on the body of the car, and the horses seemed to be too.

It's much more energetic than ordinary carriages.

"Hey, isn't this Baron Ignatz~"

The person who got out of the car and took off his hat and bowed to him was none other than Werther, the detective of the Vienna Police Department: "Why are you here free? Are you encountering some difficult problem?"

Ignatz didn't know how to answer.

He had no friendship with Werther, and it was obviously not in line with his status to lower his dignity to beg the other person. So after hesitating for a moment, he could only find an excuse with a smile: "I came to see Musil, we haven't gotten together for a long time.

Unexpectedly, today is an unlucky day and the police station has a case to handle."

"Yeah, it's just unlucky."

"Oh, we can only talk about it later."

After that, Ignatz was about to get into the carriage, say goodbye and leave.

"Hey, Baron Ignatz, please wait a moment." Werther suddenly blocked his way, "I'm sorry, I need to waste some of your time."

"What's wrong?"

"It's not a big deal." Werther looked back at the young man who had just got off the carriage and said, "It's just that there is an important witness in this case, and he claims to be your student. You have students all over the country, so there is nothing wrong with that. It's just that
Chapter completed!