The Night Bus to Nevada
One day, I suddenly remembered my past life.
It happened while I was heading out to meet a friend, still riding the high of getting into medical school.
According to what I’d been told, a car ran a red light and slammed straight into me, and I spent a full thirty days in a coma.
The funny part was that, during those thirty days, I remembered all forty-one years of my previous life.
And not just any life, either, but one in that absurd world people like us would call a wuxia novel come to life.
In that past life, I’d been part of the Tang Clan in the Sichuan region, one of the clan’s promising martial artists.
I’d never been a genius, exactly, but even from childhood people called me bright, and by the standards of someone who’d read more than enough martial arts fiction, my life in the Tang Clan had gone fairly well.
I’d broken past the Peak/Expert realm at a young age and soon after joined the clan leader’s direct elite unit.
Poison Spirit Guard.
The Tang Clan’s ghosts, people who obeyed only the clan leader’s orders and operated while concealing their identities and ranks.
I’d become one of the Dok-ryeong—an expert in escorting and watching over direct family members, in surveillance, and in assassination.
Of course, a few years later I died a dog’s death while carrying out an assassination mission.
Anyway, when I woke up in the hospital after thirty days, the conclusion I reached about those vivid memories was simple.
Huh. So that’s how it is.
That was really all I thought.
I’d only acquired a strange set of memories; nothing about my life had changed.
For that matter, what use was centuries-old martial knowledge in the Republic of Korea?
Most of my memories and experience from my previous life were just about training the body and learning martial arts.
And if not that, then they were about how efficiently to kill a person.
...I’m not an assassin or anything.
Lightfoot techniques that made you seem to fly and fist-and-palm arts that could smash stone were useless to me.
Throwing hidden weapons? Using poison? Again, I was an ordinary university student.
I wish my past life had been some incredible genius instead.
If my past self, Tang Chun-yeong, had heard that, he’d probably have coughed up blood.
Still, the only thing I thought might be useful was a cultivation method for internal force.
But when I actually tried it, the result was pitiful.
For one thing, the modern Earth and my old world were completely different environments.
Not to mention a place like Seoul, but even when I spent my school breaks traveling to famous mountains around the country and sitting in meditation, all I could draw into my lungs was fine dust.
At this rate, I doubted I could reach even the old world’s First-class level no matter how many years I spent training.
Okay. Forget becoming an athlete through martial arts, too.
Instead, I decided to steadily practice only Soft Mind Method, a basic breathing and meditation technique that was closer to an entry-level method and a form of regulated breathing.
It wouldn’t do much right away, but it would surely help my health.
And once I gave up my greed and focused only on the basics, I found an unexpected harvest.
Perhaps because of the influence of my past life, when I’d once stood on the threshold of the Peak/Expert realm, my five senses had become unnaturally sharp.
If I concentrated for a moment, I could pick up the flow of air around me, even the faintest sounds.
Only for a very brief time, of course.
Even so, by modern standards, it was enough to qualify as stepping into the realm of something beyond human.
Ah, and because I kept exercising consistently, my stamina had improved a great deal too.
I’d never been the athletic type, but thanks to my past-life memories, training itself wasn’t especially difficult.
As a result, my body had become very, very good. Honestly, that was what I was most satisfied with.
Poison and medicine—knowledge that any martial artist of the Tang Clan had to learn.
In particular, acupuncture based on the body’s meridians turned out to be a huge help in my life as a medical student.
Maybe because of my past-life knowledge, I never once lost my place at the top of the class, and I passed the national exam on my first try.
Becoming a Korean medicine doctor after once being a martial artist of the Tang Clan felt, in a way, like fate.
Thank you, Tang Chun-yeong.
All that was left for me now was to enlist as a public health doctor.
From that point on, I’d be tied down somewhere in the provinces for three long years.
“...I can’t just go like this.”
That was why I was now looking into plane tickets.
I planned to spend every last won I’d saved from my allowance and tutoring to savor one final burst of freedom.
My destination was overseas. And as far away as possible.
“Then it has to be the States.”
I didn’t have enough time or money to see everything.
After a long struggle, I finally chose the American West.
The Grand Canyon, San Francisco, San Diego, LA, Las Vegas...
The sort of places you’d only ever seen in movies, now passing before my eyes in real life.
“Okay. Let’s do this.”
That was the start of my first trip abroad.
And the starting point of everything that followed.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Outside the window was pitch-black darkness.
I was on a night bus heading from LA to Las Vegas.
I’d chosen it because it was cheaper, but within an hour of departure I was already regretting it.
...No wonder there weren’t many reviews.
It had been a mistake to expect something like a Korean express coach.
The seats were so narrow I couldn’t stretch out my legs, and a strange odor drifted up from between the cushions.
As for the scenery I’d hoped for, it was nothing but barren rock and desert. Because it was dark, there was nothing to see except the occasional passing light.
I’ve got five more hours of this.
Even the chair was disgustingly uncomfortable.
The inside of the armrest was cracked, and every time I rested my elbow there, the rough edge irritated my skin.
And the biggest problem of all was the white woman sitting next to me.
She was thin at a glance, with long blonde hair tied tightly back.
Sharp jawline, straight nose. Her features were so well defined that even in the dark, her face stood out clearly.
Honestly, she was pretty. I’d even felt a little pleased when she sat next to me on the bus.
The problem was that she’d been sweating heavily for some time now.
Her face, visible at a glance, had no color at all, and her hair was soaked with sweat.
...Is she sick?
I glanced at her once, then turned away.
No point inviting trouble. Better to mind my own business and sleep.
I drifted off, blinked awake again, and saw that it was 2:00 a.m.
All the lights inside the bus were off, and only the sound of the road rolling beneath the tires filled the dark.
Naturally, everyone on board was asleep.
Everyone except one person.
“Haa... haa...”
A thin, ragged breath drifted from the seat beside me.
It didn’t sound like sleep talking so much as someone struggling just to breathe.
I turned my head carefully to look at the woman, and she clearly seemed worse than before.
Her complexion was even paler now, and her lips had gone faintly blue.
More than that...
Her muscles are rigid.
Her arms, legs, and shoulders were all fixed exactly as she sat. Her whole body was stiff, as though she’d been seized by a cramp.
No, it was stranger than that. It felt as if something had forcibly locked her body in place.
I cautiously spoke to her in English.
“Hey, are you okay? Excuse me?”
I called to her several times in a low voice, but there was no response at all.
She didn’t even turn her head. She was completely unconscious.
...What do I do?
At that moment, memories from my past life surfaced.
More precisely, I remembered the sight of people poisoned by Tang Clan toxins as their bodies gradually stiffened.
Usually it was a kind of poison that invaded the nerves and muscles at the same time.
Hmm...
After a moment’s hesitation, I carefully took hold of the woman’s wrist.
Then, as naturally as breathing, I placed my fingertips lightly on the Chon-gu pulse.
“Hoo.”
I steadied my breathing for a moment and slowly stirred the little internal force I had.
The instant my true energy flowed naturally into her body...
...Just as I thought.
Her pulse condition was a complete disaster.
The string-like pulse and the rough, sluggish one were tangled together, and the flow of blood and energy was blocked in several places.
She wasn’t just sick. If I had to put it plainly, she’d been poisoned.
In modern terms, it was a drug designed to paralyze the nerves and muscles with precision.
I pushed my true energy a little deeper and traced the route of the poison.
The toxin had already spread a great deal, and the paralysis that had begun in the peripheral nerves was, even now, creeping inward. It was moving through her internal organs and toward her respiratory system.
If I left her like this, her diaphragm would eventually be paralyzed and she’d stop breathing.
This woman could die if this goes wrong.
When I placed the back of my hand against her forehead, it was absurdly hot.
Proof that her body was fighting the drug with everything it had.
And that it was losing.
What kind of work does she do?
Drugs? Kidnapping? Or something even worse?
The thought that in America, getting tangled up in the wrong thing could get you shot passed through my mind.
...Should I just pretend I didn’t notice?
Then a thin groan escaped the woman’s lips.
Beneath her closed eyelids, her eyes moved restlessly.
Her face looked no older than someone my own age.
“Damn it.”
By now, pretending not to see her would’ve made me too uncomfortable.
More than that, if she ended up dying next to me...
Fine. Just basic emergency treatment. Nothing more.
I carefully pulled out the backpack I’d stuffed beneath the seat.
Then I took out my needle case and a set of silver needles from the inner pocket.
I always carried them by habit. I hadn’t expected to use them somewhere like this.
When I opened the needle case, the neatly arranged silver needles glimmered faintly in the bus’s dim light.
First, stop the poison’s progress.
I began by calling up as much of my past-life knowledge as I could.
From among the 361 acupuncture points, I selected only the ones this woman needed in an instant.
First, I gently lifted her left arm.
Quchi, at the outer end of the crease formed when the elbow is bent.
A meeting point of the Large Intestine meridian, a vital point for circulating energy and clearing heat.
I inserted the needle at an angle and twirled it in a small circle.
I could feel the blocked channels of energy gradually opening beneath my fingertips.
Next was Waiguan, on the outer wrist, two finger-widths above the boundary between hand and arm.
As the collateral point of the Sanjiao meridian, it helped circulate the body’s channels and clear heat.
When I inserted the needle there, I could feel the poison’s surge toward her heart weakening.
Next is the lower body.
Taichong, the hollow between the big toe and second toe on the top of the foot.
A key point on the Liver meridian and one of its source points, it governed the liver’s energy and regulated the circulation of qi and blood throughout the body.
I placed a needle there too, slowing the poison’s spread upward from her lower body a little further.
Three needles were now in place.
I joined my index and middle fingers and rested them on the needle in Quchi, then carefully poured in a thread of internal force.
The barely perceptible, precisely controlled energy seeped along the needle into her meridians.
Soon, the clash between the poison and my own energy came through clearly—a tug of war, push and pull.
Drive it out. Just a little more.
Before long, her tightly wound breathing began to settle.
Those desperate, near-broken breaths grew longer, and the spasms in her face slowly faded.
“Haa...”
That took care of the immediate danger, at least.
I let out a long breath, feeling sweat slide down my back.
Just as I was about to pull my hand away from the needles and gather my energy back in, I suddenly felt someone’s gaze.
I looked up and found the woman staring at me with her eyes open.
They were blue eyes.
A deep blue that seemed to shine even in the dark.
Those eyes were fixed on me, staring straight through me.
Their sharp glint toward me was cold enough to make my skin prickle.
It was hard to believe they belonged to someone who’d just been on the verge of death.
Ah. I think I’m screwed.
My right hand was still holding her wrist, and in my left I was still holding a needle.
2:00 a.m. A dark bus. An unconscious woman. An Asian man with a needle in his hand.
No matter how you looked at it, that was not a combination likely to inspire confidence.
I hurried to explain myself.
“Uh... Wait. It’s not what you think.”
Her gaze dropped to the needle in my hand.
It grew even colder.
“Look, I’m a doctor. I’m from Korea. Your condition was really bad, so I gave you some emergency treatment, that’s all...”
My English tangled up, and Korean slipped in before I could stop it.
The woman seemed to be staring at me with even more suspicion now.
No, not seemed to be. She definitely was.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
From the moment she opened her eyes, Elena Burns had been analyzing the situation.
An Asian man holding her wrist. A thin, long needle in his other hand.
A bus interior. Midnight.
What did he do to me?
Her right hand reflexively moved toward the inner pocket of her jacket.
The cool touch of metal met her fingertips. A Glock 43.
It was within easy reach, ready for the safety to come off and the trigger to be pulled at any moment.
“Uh... Wait. It’s not what you think.”
The man began speaking in a flustered rush.
He said he was a doctor, that she’d looked in terrible shape, that he’d checked her over, that these were needles used in Korean traditional medicine.
His English wasn’t fluent, but the meaning came through well enough.
Elena read his eyes. The embarrassed expression, the babbling tone.
His pupils were shaking, but it didn’t feel like he was lying.
He just genuinely looked overwhelmed.
More than anything, her own body was proving it.
The body that had felt like it was about to die was now breathing normally.
Thin needles were stuck in her arm and on the top of her foot, and the stiffness that had locked her body down was easing out from around them.
I’ve been exposed to the drug for at least four hours. There’s no way I should be stabilizing like this without an antidote.
Just then, the bus speaker crackled to life with an announcement.
Barstow rest stop, five minutes.
Elena steadied her breathing for a moment, then said briefly, “...Thank you.”
Then she began pulling the needles out of her arm herself.
When the man saw that, he quickly spoke up.
“Ah, wait. If you take those out carelessly—”
But Elena had already removed them all and was getting to her feet.
Whether this man’s kindness was real or fake, staying in one place any longer would be more dangerous.
Now, while her body could still move at all, was the time to go.
Before long, the bus pulled into the rest stop.
When the doors opened, the dry desert night air rushed inside.
Elena hurried down the aisle and off the bus without offering another word.
She could feel the man behind her saying something and following after her as he got off.
“Hey, wait! If you push yourself now, you’ll crash again...”
She ignored him and checked her watch.
2:47 a.m.
It had been three hours since the ambush at the last contact point and she’d boarded the first bus she could find in blind flight.
Staying on one means of transportation for this long had been a fatal mistake.
I need to change vehicles. A rental car, another bus, anything.
Elena quickened her pace toward the parking lot.
She wasn’t sure if she could find transport in a rest stop in the middle of the desert, but she had to move.
She’d taken only three steps when—
“Ah...”
Just like that, the strength drained from her legs.
It felt as if someone had switched them off. The strength vanished from both legs at once.
The world started to spin. The lights from the streetlamps smeared into streaks and the horizon tilted.
If I collapse here...
Just as she was about to fall, she felt someone’s arm catch her.
“...I told you not to overdo it.”
It was that same Asian man from before.
He caught her completely and let out a heavy sigh, grumbling in Korean.
“Haa, seriously. You don’t listen worth a damn.”
He probably thought she wouldn’t understand.
Unfortunately for him, she had once worked in the East Asia division and understood Korean to some extent.
“...Hey. I can hear you.”
The moment she said it in clumsy but clear Korean, the man froze.
When she turned her head, his face looked stunned.
“Uh, uh...”
Embarrassed, then awkward, then resigned. His expression changed with impressive speed.
Elena felt the corner of her mouth lift almost imperceptibly.
She hadn’t expected to laugh in a situation like this.
The man cleared his throat and, still supporting her, led her toward the diner building at the rest stop.
It was an old roadside place. The lights were on, so it seemed to be open twenty-four hours, and the only customers were one or two men who looked like truck drivers sitting in the corner.
The man seated her in a corner table inside the diner, with her back to the window.
“Just bear with it a little. I took the needles out earlier, so I need to put them back in.”
He sat across from her and took out the needle case again.
This time, he pressed a finger to the back of her neck and found something to work on.
Then he used his thumb to apply firm pressure below her shoulder.
At once, a sensation of release swept from her neck to her shoulders, then from her shoulders into her back.
“Ah...”
It was unbelievable. The muscles that had been locked like stone were loosening.
Her blurred vision sharpened, and the dizziness began to subside.
Only then could she properly see the man in front of her.
Black hair, the kind typical of an East Asian man.
Distinct features beneath hair that wasn’t too short or too long.
His eyes were sharp, but his expression hovered somewhere between annoyance and concern.
He looked to be in his early to mid-twenties.
Still, East Asians all looked younger than they were, so it was hard to tell exactly.
And his claim to be a doctor didn’t seem to be a lie, either.
At the very least, he didn’t have the eyes of someone who meant harm.
What on earth did this man just do?
Elena spread her hand out and flexed it.
She could clench it, open it. The fingers that had been rigid just moments ago now moved freely.
For this little needle to have such an effect...
But only for a moment.
Wiping away the sweat on her brow, she habitually scanned the surroundings.
An empty diner. A clerk dozing behind the counter. Two truck drivers in the corner.
For the moment, it seemed safe.
But if she stayed with this man any longer, he might be in danger too.
She didn’t want some unrelated bystander getting hurt because of her.
“Hey.”
Elena met the man’s eyes and said, this time in English.
“Thank you for helping me. So now, please go.”
The man blinked.
“Just go? In this condition?”
“From here on, I’ll handle it myself. This is enough.”
Elena lowered her voice. She was serious.
“If you get tangled up with me, it’ll only cause trouble. I’m serious. It’s better for you if we part ways here. Thank you again.”
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
While I was listening to that abrupt request that I not get involved with her, I felt a chill run up my spine.
...This is—
It was a sensation I had completely forgotten.
Even after waking up to my past life six years ago, I’d never once felt it.
Killing intent.
And not even subtle, either.
The wariness I’d maintained like a habit in my past life snapped awake all at once.
The breathing of Soft Mind Method deepened naturally, and my senses sharpened to a razor’s edge.
In that instant, the world changed.
Everything inside the diner became vivid.
The faint flicker of fluorescent lights. The high-pitched whine from the coffee machine. The vibration of the tiled floor.
And the men inside the diner.
...When did there get to be so many?
Three in the morning. A diner in the middle of the desert.
What had, until just now, been a place with only one or two truck drivers was suddenly filling up with people.
A large man leaning against the counter and ordering coffee.
Two men near the entrance pretending to look at their phones.
One more standing near the hallway to the restroom, pretending to read the menu.
Four inside.
And outside, by the pickup truck in the parking lot, two men smoking cigarettes.
Two outside.
Six in total.
They were all disguised as truckers or travelers, but I could see through all of it.
The man at the counter.
He was wearing a thick work jacket, but the outlines of his deltoids and trapezius muscles were clearly visible beneath his clothes.
Those weren’t muscles built through ordinary labor. They were balanced perfectly, the kind shaped by systematic training.
The two men at the entrance were also pretending to use their phones, but their eyes were regularly sweeping the diner interior.
Their pupils were trembling slightly. That meant adrenaline was being released. They were on edge.
And there was proof more solid than any of that.
A faint but unmistakable smell brushing my nose. The metallic odor of oil.
Is that... gun oil?
The men were naturally sealing off the entrance and the hallway to the restroom, using the counter to block the clerk’s view while they surrounded the place. It was a textbook encirclement.
The problem was that I was sitting at the center of that encirclement.
More precisely, the woman sitting across from me was.
“Hey. Are you listening to me?”
Elena was looking at me with anxious eyes.
It seemed she hadn’t noticed any of this yet.
“Haa...”
I let out a slow breath.
If this had been my old life, maybe I could have handled it. But now I was nothing more than a traveler.
And they weren’t carrying knives. They were carrying guns.
Even if I tried to leave right now, I doubt they’d just let me go.
They’d already seen me treating her and talking with her.
I didn’t think they were the sort of people who’d let an uninvolved person walk away once they’d been noticed.
I sighed and answered in a very small, very low voice.
“Even if I wanted to, I think it’s already too late.”
“...What?”
My gaze shifted toward the diner door.
The two men near the entrance had risen naturally from their seats and were moving closer to the door.
“Looks like I’m already tangled up in it.”