Chapter 1
Chapter 1
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: Why I Became a Korean Medicine Doctor
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The reason I became a Korean medicine doctor was a bit unusual.
From a young age, I devoured wuxia novels.
While others were drawn to the protagonists who mastered martial arts to punish evil, I was far more fascinated by the physicians who appeared in those stories.
They were called Divine Physicians or Divine Healers, curing impossible ailments and saving the heroes' lives.
As beings who held human lives in their hands, even the mightiest demonic overlords would cower before them.
Of course, that also meant they attracted plenty of enemies.
Influenced by all that, I ended up going to Korean medicine school, earning my license, and opening a clinic right away in a narrow alley off a market on the outskirts of Seoul.
But reality was reality, after all.
The surrounding clinics were already saturated.
Every alley was packed with them.
If I was a fledgling newbie in the murim world, those guys were seasoned veteran experts.
Old-timers, boasting hordes of loyal regulars.
Regulars are everything for a clinic. Once patients settle on one, they rarely switch. That made it far harder for a new clinic to break in than I'd imagined.
To draw customers, I pounded the pavement myself running events, offered late-night hours to tap niche markets, and even volunteered to promote the place as much as possible.
But the customers barely trickled in. Nowhere near enough to cover rent and loan payments.
Still, I kept at it.
Figuring that if I just survived long enough, the veterans would retire, and their spots would naturally fall to me.
Then I died.
Before those veterans, even.
"Huu..."
I dry-washed my face and let out a long sigh.
Exhausted and half-dazed with sleep, I'd definitely crossed the crosswalk on a green light. Then a truck barreled right into me.
I wasn't in my right mind and hadn't checked my surroundings properly, but the truck was probably drowsy driving or something.
"Life, man."
It was the lament of my past life... and my current one, too.
'Why the hell did I end up possessing a guy like this in a wuxia world?'
I died, then woke up again.
It took three days to grasp the situation and adapt.
The classic setup: die and possess a character in a wuxia world.
A pattern straight out of webnovels.
'But a physician again!'
Not a Korean medicine doctor here in the murim world, but something similar—a clinic practitioner.
And not just any practitioner, but an apprentice.
Worse, an apprentice whose master had passed away.
'Master died, and I had no clue what to do. Even then, I struggled to keep this inherited clinic afloat.'
In this murim world, there were places called Medical Districts.
Specialized streets where physicians gathered.
Why doesn't our world have them?
Like streets clustered with pharmacies, furniture stores, or workshops.
Just like those, murim had streets lined solely with clinics—that's a Medical District.
They were generally places only murim folk frequented.
Not that they forcibly barred ordinary people. It was just that with all the murim warriors coming and going, normals steered clear.
And this place? A rundown clinic in one such district, with just a single shabby sign hanging out front.
Even in a fairly populous city, this Medical District already had over a dozen other clinics. A few were even famous enough to have names known across the jianghu.
In a situation like that, one lone apprentice trying to run a small, worn-out clinic was a stretch too far.
I ended up dying from stress and overwork.
In a way, a life I could empathize with, since it mirrored my previous one.
'But I don't want to live the same life again!'
So I packed my bags.
I didn't have much money on hand. Packed up whatever I could sell—needles, herbs, anything valuable.
'A clinic? Screw that! I'm gonna become a martial arts master!'
I already knew the local geography. Over those three days, the original owner's knowledge and memories had fused with mine.
'This is Sichuan Province. In wuxia stories, the Qingcheng Sect is big around here.'
Plan was to beg them to take me in as a disciple or whatever.
Hey, as long as I stuck around the Qingcheng Sect and worked hard, I'd pick up something.
'But I can't make the trip alone.'
Get knifed by some lunatic, torn apart by beasts—way too dangerous.
So I decided to head to a small merchant caravan on the city outskirts. No cash for proper escorts, but I could tag along with a modest contribution fee.
Packed up and stepped out the door. That's when I heard a strange sound.
"Huh? What's that noise?"
It sounded like clothes flapping in the wind.
And with that sound came a pitch-black shadow vaulting over the wall.
A large man dropped to the ground as if falling from the sky.
I gaped in shock. Seeing qinggong in person was utterly overwhelming.
The man who'd cleared the wall was covered head to toe in blood. And the scariest part? The long sword in his hand.
Dark, clotted gore caked the blade.
Clearly, it had sliced into flesh not long ago.
'What the hell! Did this maniac come straight from a daytime killing spree?'
Until then, I'd only vaguely thought of this as a wuxia world.
Now the brutal reality sank in.
In my panic to avoid repeating my old life, I'd been ready to bolt. But seeing this brought the truth crashing down.
All my hazy fantasies about the wuxia world evaporated from my mind.
A world where fights broke out in cities, on forest paths, even at inns where travelers stopped—daily occurrences.
In short, a world where you never knew when or how you'd die.
'A normal guy from 21st-century Korea suddenly scrapping with monsters like that? No way.'
Me, who's never even punched someone—could I even fight?
Me, jumping into martial arts late—could I learn and pull off qinggong like that?
Without some webnovel cheat ability, could I surpass everyone and become a grandmaster?
All impossible, obviously.
Only now did the savage reality hit home, leaving me dazed.
That's when the man, breathing raggedly, slumped against the wall and looked my way.
"Hahk, hahk... I heard there was an old physician here, but a young guy like you? Did I get the wrong place..."
His eyes were sharp and menacing.
I flinched for a second, but the panic didn't last.
I quickly pieced it together.
'Judging by why he came here and his tone, he must be looking for treatment.'
He knew about this rundown clinic and had a reason to seek it out specifically.
'Maybe he'd get found out at a famous one or something.'
With that reasoning, I felt a bit more at ease.
"My master has passed away."
The man's eyes widened slightly.
"You look just past twenty, but you're pretty composed..."
Well, in my previous life, I'd lived over thirty years and rolled through plenty of society.
The man scanned me from head to toe.
"Then you're a physician too, little brother?"
I couldn't answer easily. Technically an apprentice, and I'd just been about to quit and leave.
"Cough! Cough!"
That's when the man vomited blood and dropped his sword. His complexion turned even paler.
"Please... treat me..."
My hesitation didn't last long. I hurried over to him.
After all, I had been a physician in the real world.
I had my own sense of duty toward patients.
'Even if I'm quitting, I have to save the life in front of me first. Can't shame the oath to Heo Jun I memorized at graduation.'
I steeled myself and reached to take his pulse. That's when a mysterious message popped up before my eyes.
The sudden message made me freeze mid-motion.
Nine Needles?
The nine types of acupuncture needles used in Korean medicine?
What were those question marks? Traits that hadn't manifested yet?
The messages didn't stop there.
"Cough! Cough!"
The man's condition worsened.
'Treat him first.'
I could check the floating messages later.
I examined his injuries. But there wasn't a single wound on his body. The blood on his clothes was from the blood he'd just vomited, plus what seemed to be someone else's.
'Blood from the person he killed, probably.'
The sword on the ground, splattered from slicing into flesh. Imagining the moment made me shiver.
Still, I trusted he wouldn't harm his savior.
'At least, not in the wuxia novels I read.'
I cleared my throat and feigned calm.
"Let's start with pulse diagnosis."
He nodded faintly. I took his right wrist.
Since he'd vomited blood, I figured lungs first—right wrist for that.
Before I could even read the message, his pulse came through crystal clear.
The beat transmitted through my fingertips was unsteady. Shaking this way and that, like the surface of a lake whipped by wind.
This shallow, irregular pulsing signaled the lungs failing to function, affecting the whole body.
'Lungs are damaged... Huh?'
Mid-diagnosis, something felt off.
'A pulse reading giving such a precise diagnosis?'
You can't diagnose everything from a pulse alone, obviously. But right now, it felt like the diagnosis dropped instantly as I took the pulse.
Then another message appeared.
'What's this one? The man's cultivated inner art showing up?'
As if answering my curiosity, another message followed.
Pulse Eye.
The trait listed under the Nine Needles owner earlier.
In the end, the system I'd vaguely hoped for had appeared.
Just... not on the martial arts side, but the medical one.
At this rate, I'd have no choice but to run the clinic.