Chapter 70
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ace
Chapter: 70
Chapter Title: Mother's Recovery
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Park Younggil. Gastrointestinal surgery specialist.
He was the doctor who performed the most surgeries at Sowon General Hospital.
He prided himself that his skills were second to none among Korea's GI surgery professors.
To the point where he had even personally operated on his own mother.
His work was usually straightforward.
Excising cancer cells, or if that wasn't possible, resecting the organ and suturing it up cleanly.
'But internal medicine has no clear answers.'
He had seen countless patients complain of dumping syndrome after gastric cancer surgery.
It wasn't from botched surgery—it just happened randomly.
If luck was bad, it was the patient's burden, and if diet therapy didn't fix it, transfer to internal medicine. It wasn't his territory.
But now that it was his own situation...
'Damn! Too many unknowns.'
It was frustrating.
Modern medicine had uncovered so much.
Techniques advanced enough to cleanly resect the stomach and connect the esophagus to the small intestine.
Yet there was nothing he could do for his mother, whose epigastrium ached like it was driving her mad.
—Are you insane?
He suddenly recalled the Korean medicine doctor's expression upon hearing about the thoracotomy. Of course, the man hadn't said it outright, but it was written all over his face.
"Ha..."
He knew it too.
If it were a machine, he'd tear it apart to inspect it, but a nearly 70-year-old couldn't withstand surgery.
A surgeon could declare it clean and be done, but considering life after surgery, everything demanded caution.
"Is this the right call?"
Of course, herbal medicine was better than thoracotomy or opioids.
Park Younggil thought so even as he endlessly searched.
Papers on the safety and efficacy of Korean herbal medicine.
His professors in med school had shared plenty of bad cases—patients rushed in after taking hanbang.
He himself had occasionally seen patients where hanbang failed, tests revealed cancer.
'Not detecting it is understandable. Can't recommend full scans for every bellyache in a local clinic. But... oh? This one's decent.'
So he dug through papers anxiously.
And it wasn't as bad as he'd thought.
Korean med schools apparently included basic physiology, pathology, and pharmacology.
Plus, examining cases one by one, the Korean doctors' claims held up—stats lumped together goat's herb tonics from health centers and wild plants dug up from mountains with proper herbal remedies.
Of course, it was only "better than expected."
Korean studies had tiny sample sizes, and Chinese papers run through translators? Hardly trustworthy.
As he diligently organized the papers, his phone rang.
"Hello."
Park Younggil picked up before the first ring.
It was his older sister, who lived in the same apartment complex and handled most of the caregiving.
She knew it was work hours, so it had to be about Mom.
"Not busy?"
"Got a break between surgeries, looking at papers. It's fine—talk."
"Mom kept insisting on calling you, and I tried to stop her..."
Park Younggil's heart plummeted.
"What happened?"
He shouldn't have gambled like that.
Yoon Hanbyeol's case was reasonably chalked up to coincidence.
Now he was losing his mind too, thinking some miracle clinic had a surefire cure...!
His sister went silent.
"Younggil-ah, it doesn't hurt at all! Isn't it amazing?"
Her voice switched to his mother's.
Mom had snatched his sister's phone.
"...You're feeling better?"
"Yes, my boy. As expected, the doctor you found is something else! That pounding like a ghost was beating me, gone clean away. The squeeze that gripped so tight? Overnight, nothing!"
But his mother's words were the total opposite of what he'd imagined.
What?
Park Younggil was left dumbfounded, gaping like a fool.
"Didn't the medicine arrive yesterday?"
"Right. Once last evening, once this morning! Thought I slept better yesterday? Now it's perfect! My goodness!"
Healed? In a single day? No way.
Probably just a placebo high.
That was the rational assumption.
—Within a week... at latest a month, guaranteed improvement.
Was that evidence-based confidence?
"That's a relief."
"Isn't it? What if we'd cracked open her chest! Good thing I listened to my son, right?"
His mother was genuinely thrilled.
Deep down, he knew. It was real.
If placebo, it would've kicked in ages ago. How many meds had they tried?
"Really... a relief. But it might be temporary improvement, so make sure she takes the full month. You've switched to normal meals, but be cautious."
"Of course! I'm not a child—think I'd pig out just 'cause it's better? Eating just enough to feel it come back, then off to the clinic!"
"Yes. Take care."
They'd wandered for two whole years.
He'd thought it absurd to claim a fix in a week.
In one day?
Too fast.
Absurdly simple.
"..."
Park Younggil slammed shut every paper he'd been scouring, eyes bloodshot.
He just stared into space.
Then he made a call.
"Ow, no content!"
I'd barely played the game for months and turned into a dead-end casual!
The thrill of mythic items dropping one by one was ancient history.
After grinding countless raids, even my accessories were all mythic gear.
Nothing left to fight until the next update.
So what remained? Collecting.
I was fishing to fill the codex and squeeze out a bit more combat power.
Tap. Tap. Ta-tap!
A mini-game timing the spacebar as fish swam in and out of the zone.
Notoriously tough, but with my reflexes, this was...
Ziiiing!
"No, does this jerk hear through his nose? Told you no calls!"
Fishing ruined anyway.
I picked up.
If he hadn't called, fine—but blocking it? I'd go nuts wondering till tomorrow.
"Told you to contact the clinic."
"Did. It's closed for the holiday."
"Then come tomorrow? Anyway, what's up? Meds not arrived? Ate and uncomfortable?"
"Not that."
Then what. Spit it out.
I cut straight to it.
"Only two packs in, and Mom says zero pain. How exactly did you do it?"
Oh, that. Panicking over something like this?
I leaned back in my chair and chuckled.
"It's called Chija Sihwang decoction. Telling you the ingredients might trigger reverse placebo in the patient, so keep it secret from her."
"Chija Sihwang..."
Ah, modern folks wouldn't know.
"Just gardenia and fermented soybeans. The 'si' is meju-fermented beans, called xiangsi in herbals."
"Gardenia... like the flower I know?"
"The fruit of that flower."
"...That cured my mom's two-year illness?"
"Yep."
Beat that? Impressive, right?
Praise me.
I nearly passed out myself the first time Master used an ancient formula.
Does this actually work? I was stunned.
"Ah... my god. To think it could heal like this."
Park Younggil gave exactly the reaction I'd predicted.
"Would've been disaster if you'd done thoracotomy, huh?"
"...Yes. Truly."
Park Younggil was breathing hard.
Relief? Or... defeat?
"Thank you. Truly. If I'd gone ahead with surgery like I wanted, she wouldn't have made it. You're the savior of her life."
...Was he crying?
"Sniff. Really, thank you. How fortunate we met you."
He really was.
Seeing this late-40s guy who'd been so rude break down was disconcerting.
I'd figured he'd freak out—how so fast, what'd you put in it—but this?
"Glad she's better."
Couldn't snark about his past words when he was thanking me so purely.
Either way, a patient in agony had recovered. A relief. His worried kids could relax now.
"Still, finish the full month's prescription. If you're nearby, acupuncture would help more."
"Naturally."
Sudden thought.
I don't hide ingredients if asked, but always warn alongside.
Especially simple, easy-to-get ones like Chija Sihwang.
"Just in case: after the month, don't brew gardenia at home to save costs. Next month's prescription might change completely."
Some folks do.
Modern homes rarely have decoction pots, though.
"Of course. You saved her life—think I'd skimp? Can't do surgery for scalpel fee alone. Won't see it as med costs."
Unnecessary worry.
Same line of work, he respected the craft.
"Please take good care of Mom's acupuncture. We'll visit together next month. Truly grateful... and no more phone calls from now on. Sorry."
Call ended abruptly.
Sheesh. Hanging up after hearing it's fine—hurt his feelings or what?
Was gonna give well-wishes anyway.
But the apology? Felt pretty good.
No, downright satisfying.
'Kuh.'
Nothing like filling fishing codex or first-clearing raids compared to this rush.
"Director! Not a bit of pain! That chest squeeze? Vanished!"
Moon Younghee reported her progress with far more fuss than Park Younggil.
"Glad to hear. Meals going okay?"
"Yes. But after eating so little, suddenly more—feels a tad bloated."
"Got it. We'll keep treating the unstable heart pulse, and check your digestion too."
"Thank you!"
After that, she showed up faithfully every workday for acupuncture.
Like most elders, even without killer epigastrium pain, aches abounded.
Mostly digestive maintenance, but sometimes knees, shoulders, or backs too.
"This blockage hid it—I didn't even know my back was bad!"
"Disc needs long-term care. Let's treat it slowly."
Then one day.
I faced an absurd scene.
"No, Director Han's better! Cured my two-plus years of suffering!"
"Two years? Pfft, gardenia root. Director Hwang fixed my three-year knee!"
"What? My back, from the first ache? Forty years!"
Moon Younghee, Yoo Malja, Heo Sunnam—in order.
Of course, with Yoo were Oh Youngsook, Son Chunja, and Kim Oksun.
'Why's she lumped in?'
I'd seen Granny Heo bicker with Hwang Sanghun's loyal four guardians, but Moon Younghee too?
Wait, was Park Younggil the only one keeping order? Moon was same generation anyway.
'They say age makes you childish again.'
Four 70-something grannies arguing "who's better" like seven-year-olds.
I shook my head and knocked on Hwang Sanghun's door.
"Director Hwang~ Got a favor~."
"Sorry. I'll warn them."
The four ignored me.
Granny Heo ignored me too.
Tell them to tone it down for embarrassment? They'd snap that the ignorant pity our director.
"Ladies, appreciate the words, but..."
"Aigoo~. Director Hwang! Were we too loud? Sorry!"
At least they listened to Hwang Sanghun.
We barely calmed the ruckus before treatment started.
And shortly after.
Mid-busy work, Seo Ina knocked on my door.
"Director, fax came."
"Huh? From where?"
No one sends faxes.
"Sowon General Hospital."
Park Younggil's workplace. Why would the hospital fax me?
I took the paper from Seo Ina and read the title.
"...Collaborative Hospital MOU Proposal?"
What the heck?