From Half-Corpse to Priceless Debtor
In the transparent mirror of the Life-Death God Doctor's quarters, a girl with ink-black hair silently pressed her cheek against the glass. The flesh yielded with a soft squish, so tender it was almost tangible just looking at it. And her eyes—what about them? They looked pitch black like anyone else's, yet on her, they drew you in with a serene, refined aura. Her skin glowed with vibrant pallor, her lips glistened moist and supple. Her jawline was sharply sculpted yet gave the impression of plump resilience. Strands of hair cascaded over her ears, promising a different kind of silkiness from her skin. She was beautiful.
Ha-yeon had only ever seen three women of such beauty in her past lives combined—and even then, you couldn't really rank them. She'd never encountered one with this neat, demure vibe laced with subtle allure, black hair and black eyes to match.
Hmm. Kinda wanna confess right now.
Ha-yeon dropped to her knees wordlessly, extending her hand like a marriage proposal.
"Will you marry me?"
The world's most aloof beauty flushed with emotion and replied,
"Sure, I'd love to."
Perfect. With the world's top beauty as my wife, my future's nothing but a bed of roses. When's the wedding? For the honeymoon—our first night—I want somewhere moody and fantastical. Beach sounds right. Emerald waves crashing against rocks, leaving pearl foam behind. A resort terrace on marble-smooth white sands should do it.
I'll grill the meat, buy the house, plan the whole trip—but who cares? With a wife this gorgeous, it's a man's job to handle the details. Cocktails, nothing too strong, just smooth enough to hit right. I'm no bartender, but I've brewed plenty—easy to pick up a few recipes. Worst case, stock up on expensive wine.
Yeah, all I need now is my wife.
Ha-yeon lifted the mirror and said,
"My darling, how's this for our honeymoon?"
The enchanting beauty shot back,
"Fuck."
How the hell did things end up like this?
Ha-yeon collapsed in despair. Startled by her bizarre behavior, O-ryeong and Yuk-ryeong peeked out from the wardrobe, whispering to each other.
"Hubby's acting weird."
"Yeah. Totally."
To understand why, we need to rewind a bit.
.........
A patient lay on the bed, barely breathing—someone who could've been stuffed in a coffin instead of Wang-jak without raising eyebrows. Needless to say, it was Ha-yeon: a half-human, half-corpse abomination that even a zombie might mistake for kin.
Her state was so shockingly grotesque that even the Pyeong family physician examining her shook his head.
"It's dire. I'm baffled she's still clinging to life."
"Physician Yu, I'm not asking for your impressions. Can you save her?"
"My skills are woefully inadequate. No physician in Nam-chang could manage it."
"Really? No other way? If the young lady passes like this..."
"Young master, as a doctor I shouldn't say it, but life and death are heaven's domain. Her condition's too grave—any medicine would turn to poison, any treatment futile."
"No..."
Everyone held their breath, waiting for that final exhale. The mood grew unbearably somber.
A day passed. Two days. Another dawned.
Ha-yeon didn't die. But calling it "alive" felt shameful.
"I heard you had a live-dead zombie patient and got curious. Heh."
"Who might you be?"
"The Life-Death God Doctor."
Enter the man himself. The trope character who swoops in when all hope's lost to save the protagonist, heroine, or master—then vanishes. The kind of guy whose absence in a murim tale when someone's dying would leave you pissed. He'd dropped into Nam-chang.
"Who invited such a distinguished guest?!"
"Got curious."
"Pardon?"
"The head physician at your biggest clinic's my disciple. He flipped out seeing me, said he'd never witnessed anything like it—half-corpse, half-person, come watch if you want. So here I am."
Martial artists grow through training. Doctors? Treating patients builds experience and skill.
His prized disciple had thrown in the towel, piquing the old man's curiosity about this live-dead zombie. And Ha-yeon's condition more than satisfied it.
After inspecting her, the Life-Death God Doctor nodded.
"Legendary live-dead zombie, no doubt. Sneak her into a Night Parade of a Hundred Demons, and the other monsters'd party with her no problem. Heaven's heartless for letting someone rot like this—or should we thank it for keeping her breathing?"
"Can you treat her?"
Cheong-yong asked cautiously. O-ryeong and Yuk-ryeong were already prostrated silently before the elder.
"Why should I?"
"Pardon?"
"Fun show, though. Never seen a half-corpse like this. Broadened my horizons—trip to Nam-chang wasn't wasted."
"God Doctor!"
"Aigoo, my ears. I said she's zombie-buddy material. I'm a physician, not an exorcist. Pray to the Primeval Lord of Heaven—you're the Taoist. Or consult a zombie master. Serious advice."
"But you're said to revive even the dead..."
"Ugh... Does that mean every Namgung punk using Emperor Sword Form is royalty? Clan head's the emperor? Nicknames and titles are just flair."
Cheong-yong slumped. The sisters wailed. Pyeong So-geon stared complexly at the doctor.
"No way at all?"
"Clan head, I said it: prayer or zombie expert's more efficient. Half-joke, half-serious."
"..."
Then, Ha-yeon's hand twitched.
"What."
It didn't stop. Somehow mustering strength, she refined her qi and ripped the doctor's robe.
"Gah! What the—?!"
Astoundingly precise qi lashed out, snatching something from his robes.
Recognizing it, the doctor's eyes gleamed.
"Spit it out! Think that'll help? Even a Super Peak master'd explode without control. You'd be unrecoverable goo..."
Of course, she couldn't hear. It was pure instinct—lifelong senses and survival drive firing a reflexive grab.
The golden pill, wrapped in soft qi, slid straight down her throat.
The doctor tsked, grabbing a blanket to wrap himself. She'd probably fail to digest it and burst, splattering him.
"Sigh."
But he left a peephole to watch. A faint, undeniable spark of anticipation in his eyes.
And it paid off.
"Heh..."
No explosion. Her body crackled and popped like a demon-possessed puppet, but held.
A doctor of his caliber knew the signs.
"...Shedding Mortality? No, slightly different. Similar, but not quite."
She'd swallowed the
His masterpiece, crafted to breach Flower Realm despite his lack of martial talent. Top doctor, top ingredients, top alchemy in the Central Plains.
"Fuck my life."
Darkness clouded the doctor's vision. A fortune in spirit treasures, gulped by a half-corpse. Rage inevitable.
Pry her mouth? Just drool. Slice her gut? No.
"Goddamn it..."
He stepped up. Might as well watch his pill's effects. Ha-yeon struggled to suppress it, but faltered.
Fine, save the thief, make her repay the debt. Let her explode? Just expensive meat confetti.
Fuming, the Life-Death God Doctor shed the blanket, flung open his bag, and unpacked tools and herbs.
"You thieving bitch. Might not hear me, but don't resist my qi—I'm treating you personally."
And now.
"Thieving bitch, how's the body?"
"Make it 'thieving bastard,' elder."
"Shut up and give me your wrist. My rage is sky-high—gonna scour every inch or I'll die of grudge."
"Ahem. Sorry for the trouble."
"If 'sorry' cut it, why bother with bailiffs?"
Ha-yeon had scarfed his priceless pill, survived it, and hooked his curiosity. Time to milk something—or burst.
"Fascinating, really. Looks and frame scream Shedding Mortality, but no middle dantian opened. Yet you wielded sword aura?"
"Ahem."
"Weird. Checked you as a half-corpse—age around 18, pre-transformation. Accurate."
"Lucky break, I guess."
"Spill. Demon? Hidden old master?"
"...If I were a hidden master, wouldn't I have coffined the Black Ink Faction Lord easier?"
Sad truth: she'd never hidden her realm. If she had, Wang-jak would've been buried in Chil-yang County ages ago—no need to drag her wrecked body to Nam-chang.
"Fair. That mess was his doing... Rare constitution, then? No other explanation. Or my pill hit immortal grade. Maybe both, for unknown effects."
"Could be."
"Honorifics."
"Yes, sir."
Even she couldn't sass her lifesaver. First polite speech in ages—felt like thorns in her mouth.
A month of observation and pulse-taking later, he packed up.
"Thieving bitch."
"Yes?"
"Know how much that Golden Spirit Holy Pill you scarfed cost?"
"How much?"
"Made from priceless spirit treasures."
"I see."
"So, you owe me equivalent."
"Urk."
He slapped down an invoice. Even murim-ignorant Ha-yeon knew the ingredients.
"Millennium Fire Toad pair. Golden Serpent Venom Pearl. Nectar of millennium flatworm plus ten herbs. Mutant blue-ringed snow ginseng, one geun..."
Chanting like a spell. Meteor incoming after?
One thing sure: repaying this'd break her back.
"Well? Just fetch those exact materials."
"...No other way?"
"Sure. Bring a priceless treasure matching its value."
"Like?"
"Heavenly Demon Divine Art? Pass—priceless, but useless to me. Legendary spirit beasts, rival elixirs, or a medical tome by a peer. Latter's impossible, of course."
Ha-yeon's head tilted.
"If I can't pay?"
"Heh heh heh. I'm the God Doctor. Countless murim giants and imperial masters owe me."
His grin was gleeful yet chilling. No overt threat—just assumption of compliance. He dusted his robes and stood.
"Fight the world if you want. Month's delay over—I'm off, thief."
"Safe travels."
"If I sense no repayment intent, I'll nab you, sell you as a concubine to some old powerbroker."
"He into guys?"
"...You weren't a man? No way. I checked."
"Bro."
That horrific word made him shudder. Muttering worst luck ever, he left.