Chapter 11

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"Just a little bit? Great!" Frank Hahn patted Zhujishi's shoulder with his dirty hands and laughed loudly, "I knew you Tartars have a stronger adaptability to dirty environments! Because you don't care about cleanliness like us white gentlemen. Ha ha, if it were any licensed white doctor, they would definitely run away from this filthy hospital within six months. This time, Mrs. Duran's slutty woman has done me a big favor. Tartar, work hard under me, I, Frank, won't treat you badly." He suddenly thought of something and asked, "Almost forgot, Jason, do you have a gun?"

"A gun?" Zhujishi was taken aback, thinking, "Being a doctor isn't like robbing a bank, do I need a gun?"

"Handgun, you need a handgun, otherwise I can't guarantee your safety when you go to and from work." Frank Hahn sized up Zhujishi, "Although you look like a strong big guy, you could still be robbed, and even face life-threatening situations. After all, around the Omen Hospital are the damned working-class areas."

Is the security in London that bad? Zhujishi asked, puzzled, "Doesn't London have police?"

"Police? Uh, they probably send someone to the working-class areas every six to eight years. If you encounter a robber in a working-class area, it's best to rely on a handgun to protect yourself. If you don't have one, I have an old gun that I can lend you. By the way, do you know how to use a gun?"

Zhujishi shook his head, his face full of surprise. He had to carry a gun to work, and the police in London didn't care about the security in the working-class areas. Was this really England?

While speaking, Frank Hahn had already handed an old smoothbore pistol to Zhujishi and said with a smile, "This gun has been with me for a while, but it still works. You also need a cane with a hidden sword, after all, a pistol can only fire once, and then you'll have to rely on the sword to protect yourself. Such cane-swords are sold in every store that sells canes, and they cost about 2 pounds."

Not only do you have to carry a gun, but also a sword, it sounds so fresh... Am I a doctor in England or a samurai in Japan? Is this Dr. Hahn's brain okay? Zhujishi muttered to himself.

"Don't believe it? You look like a foreigner who just arrived in London." Dr. Hahn smiled and took out gunpowder, lead bullets, and another pistol from a cabinet, starting to demonstrate the loading method to Zhujishi. "Our London is actually made up of two worlds, one for the rich and one for the poor. The former, about 200,000 to 300,000 people, live in well-policed, elegant neighborhoods, which are very safe, with few crimes—unless you count business fraud as a crime. The latter, over 2 million people, live like rats in a few dirty, smelly, crime-ridden, and beggar-filled working-class areas, and the Omen Hospital happens to be in such a place. The London police don't care much about the security in the working-class areas, so every gentleman working in these areas carries weapons, which is both necessary and legal. And if you kill a few scoundrels in self-defense, you won't get into any trouble."

Really? Zhujishi was very skeptical, after all, he was a yellow-skinned person... But he still quickly learned how to use a pistol under Dr. Hahn's guidance. Then Dr. Hahn told him, "You should also keep some shillings in your pocket, a dozen or so. If there are many robbers, I suggest you give them some money, but if you encounter beggars, don't give them any money."

"Beggars?" Zhujishi hadn't noticed such people on the streets of London.

"There are many beggars in the working-class areas, but not in the neighborhoods where the upper class lives; the police drive them away." Hahn frowned slightly, "Jason, do you know? The economy isn't doing well lately, all the factories are laying off workers, and it's hard to find a job, so there are more beggars. If you give one of them some money, the whole street of beggars will come to you for money, which is very troublesome!"

"Also," Frank Hahn suddenly winked at Zhujishi and smiled strangely, "I have a small suggestion. There are many cheaply made-up girls and young women on the streets of the working-class areas, they are temporary prostitutes. They wouldn't stand on the street unless they were in dire straits. If you have such needs, you can take care of their business, and one shilling per time is enough."

Prostitution? Zhujishi shook his head slightly; he was a good boy from over a hundred years later in China and had never engaged in such immoral behavior...

Seeing Zhujishi shake his head, Hahn's smile became even stranger, "Jason, do you like... men!?" In that case, it's hard to find them on the street, you have to go to a male brothel. The most famous male brothels are Mrs. Mary Wilson's and Mrs. Warren's, which also have male prostitutes...

...

Although he found Frank Hahn's words unreliable, on the first day after work at Omen Hospital, Zhujishi still walked home with a loaded pistol in his pocket.

He didn't even take a horse-drawn carriage that charged one shilling per mile, as the price was really too expensive! On the way to the interview at Omen Hospital in the morning, Mrs. Duran had introduced Zhujishi to the current income situation of the British working class. A casual laborer could only earn 2 to 3 pence a day, a regular worker earned 4 to 6 pence a day, but skilled workers earned much more, almost reaching the standard of the middle class... and one old shilling (not the new shilling of later times) was equal to 20 pence, meaning a casual laborer's weekly income could only afford a one-mile horse-drawn carriage ride! He wondered if the horse-drawn carriages were too expensive or if the British workers' wages were too low.

While crossing a street full of garbage and feces, Zhujishi really encountered a British beggar—an old man with a face full of dirt and wrinkles, looking very sick and pitiful!

"Sir, please, give me a penny."

Zhujishi nervously looked around, not seeing any other beggars, only a few women with red cheeks (a strange makeup, but very popular among prostitutes in this era) standing barefoot on the dirty ground. He quickly fished out a shilling and threw it to the old man—his pocket didn't have any pennies.

"Thank you, thank you so much..." The old man picked up the shilling, said several thanks, and ran to a small shop nearby. Zhujishi saw that the shop had a sign in English saying "Opium for sale"!

This old man is actually an opium addict? There are opium addicts in Britain too?

Zhujishi's mind was in chaos, and he looked around. Seeing that the women approaching him were indeed fair-skinned and blue-eyed, he confirmed that he hadn't traveled back to the Qing Dynasty again.

"Sir, my service is very good..."

"Sir, I'll make you very happy!"

"Come on, sir..."

But before he could react, the British street prostitutes had almost surrounded him. Although he hadn't encountered the legendary terrifying robbers, Zhujishi now completely believed Dr. Hahn's warnings... This Britain was really different from what he had imagined!