Getting a Fortuitous Encounter Was the Easiest Thing in the World
By the time the sun had begun its lazy slide toward the horizon, my thoughts had more or less finished sorting themselves out.
Two straight days of events careening wildly out of control had brought my brain to the brink of declaring a strike; now that the traffic jam inside my skull had finally been cleared, all the tension drained out of me at once.
"Haaah..."
Feeling thankful for the inner peace I'd reclaimed after so long, I heaved out a long sigh—from a back that was, at that very moment, studded with hundreds of needles.
"What's the matter? Feeling poorly at last?"
The Medicine Hall Master—currently enjoying a rousing game of pirate roulette across my pale skin—addressed the back of my head.
"No, it's nothing. I'm just a little tired..."
Paying my deflated voice no mind whatsoever, he kept right on jabbing needles in as he spoke.
"I know, I know. We're nearly done, so be patient a little longer."
That was the fifth time I'd heard those exact words. As they landed, I found myself pondering exactly how, somewhere along the way, I had ended up cosplaying a hedgehog.
A little earlier...
The Medicine Hall Master had taken my pulse, pried my eyelids up to study my eyes, forced my jaw open to peer down my throat—a whole battery of indignities—before at last turning to me with a look that said something strange was afoot.
"Muyeong... listen closely now, and don't be alarmed."
Something in that grave tone made me tense up right along with him.
"Your body..."
The Medicine Hall Master let the words trail away, and I swallowed hard and waited for the rest—
"...is in far, far too perfect health."
For all the needlessly grave face he'd worn delivering it, the remark itself was utterly pointless, and flabbergasted, I asked him back.
"Pardon? Isn't that a good thing, then?"
The Medicine Hall Master shook his head.
"That smoke you gulped down last night came from burnt Life-Reaping Grass—and that is no ordinary poison plant. It does see use as a medicine in certain cases, mind you..."
He paused to steady his breath, then pressed on.
"One puff of that stuff is more than enough to send every martial artist below the Peak Realm who never trained in the poison arts sailing across the River of the Dead like straw sandals flicked over the water—and still have venom to spare. And yet your body is so disgustingly fine that it simply makes no sense, I tell you..."
I answered in a tone of supreme disinterest.
"Well, good is good, isn't it?"
"Hm... don't tell me that's actually what happened..."
As if my answer hadn't reached him at all, the Medicine Hall Master kept cocking his head, muttering to himself, before abruptly addressing me again.
"Wait here a moment. I have something to fetch."
With that he scurried off to who knew where, and I gave him a suitably vague reply.
"Yeees... sure..."
How much time had passed, I couldn't say...
The Medicine Hall Master returned with something enormous and leather strapped to his left arm and what must have been dozens of little pouches clutched in his right hand. Behind him trailed a troop of men in warrior's garb, every one of them, master included, hung about with strange pouch-shaped things in dangling clusters.
My curiosity at the sight lasted all of a moment—
—for the Medicine Hall Master's next words left me unable to contain my horror.
"Muyeong! That back! Let me see that back of yours!"
I glimpsed the madness steeped in both his eyes and hastily crossed my arms over my chest, squawking in protest.
"N-No...! You can't...! Please don't!"
Regrettably, my scrawny frame was powerless against a Medicine Hall Master gone full berserk, and with my shirt peeled off, I had no choice but to turn my back over to him.
He hauled a chair over beside the sickbed and unfurled the enormous leather mass he'd worn in on his arm.
Clack-clatter—
The case sprang open with a clash of steel to reveal needles beyond counting packed within.
"What the...?"
The sight knocked the wind clean out of me, and I stumbled over my words in a fluster.
"I-It's not... it isn't what I think it is, r-right?"
Making a mockery of my protest, the Medicine Hall Master—eyes already half-rolled into madness—plucked out a needle, cracked open one of the many-colored pouches, dipped the needle in and drew it back out, and addressed me.
"Muyeong... the pain lasts only a moment."
Before the words had even finished leaving his mouth, his hand whipped out and sank the needle into my back.
"Owch!"
I shrieked and arched my back like a drawn bow, but the Medicine Hall Master's frenzy did not pause.
SMACK—
"What kind of grown man milks it like this!"
I shot a look at the master—who was now leaving handprints on my backside—demanding what I'd done to deserve this, but he brushed past my pleading eyes entirely.
"You feel nothing out of the ordinary in your body?"
I snapped back at him.
"Out of the ordinary my ass—everywhere you've smacked me hurts, Master!"
"Oh? So you're telling me nothing's wrong, then?"
Leaving me to my irritation-laced shouting, the Medicine Hall Master muttered to himself like some mad scientist.
"So poison brewed from Frost-Soul Grass has no effect on him..."
Before long he was dabbing new poisons onto new needles and driving them into my back, one after another, until the sun went down.
The result...
I now had so many needles embedded in my back that a hedgehog and I could have passed for brothers.
Having stubbornly planted every last one of the countless needles, the Medicine Hall Master wiped away the sweat streaming down his face and pronounced:
"Hoh... to think even Heaven-Maiming Slaughter Poison did nothing to him."
"BWAHAHAHA!"
Cackling like a lunatic, the Medicine Hall Master ruffled my hair.
"You rascal, Muyeong! You clawed your way back from death's door AND walked away with a fortuitous encounter!"
Watching him congratulate me with the corners of his mouth stretched to his ears and a face that, to anyone with functioning eyes, belonged to an extra from the Unorthodox Sects or the Demonic Cult, I gave long, sincere philosophical consideration to the question of why this blasted clan seemed to employ nothing but half-madmen.
"Impervious to ten thousand poisons without ever mastering the poison arts! The Grim Reaper's errand-boy must have felt guilty for dragging you off by mistake—so he crammed a blessing like this into your hands and shipped you right back!"
As his rapturous rampage rolled on, I was seriously weighing whether I needed to defect from this clan for real—when the Medicine Hall Master finally began plucking the needles out of my back one by one.
Diligently extracting, one at a time, the needles he had spent nearly half a day driving in, he spoke to me.
"Muyeong."
"Yes?"
"Do you have any idea how rare the blessing you've received is?"
I answered vaguely.
"Ah... yes... I mean, 'Immunity to Ten Thousand Poisons'... I'm sure it's very impressive."
The Medicine Hall Master answered my response by hammering the back of my skull with his fist.
"Argh, you brat! A Body Impervious to Ten Thousand Poisons—not immunity earned through poison training, but a body that simply IS that way—combing the entire history of this clan, there has been exactly ONE. And even that one rests on no verified record, so as far as anyone knows, you're the first in history!"
I gave his torrent of eloquence the reply it deserved.
"O. Wow. That's. Re. Al. Ly. A. Ma. Zing. How. Nice."
The truth was, poison had never worked on me to begin with, so I brushed the whole thing off as no big deal—but to him it clearly carried a different weight entirely...
The Medicine Hall Master sank into deep thought, murmuring.
"It's a constitution those who devote their lives to the poison arts would beg the heavens for. If only that boy Jin had been impervious to ten thousand poisons..."
He sighed over some memory, then fell silent, saying nothing more as he quietly pulled the needles from my back.
"Ow!"
While sweeping the extracted needles aside, his hand had smacked into one still embedded, and I yelped.
I could distinctly feel something trickling down my back, but the Medicine Hall Master spoke with perfect composure.
"Whoopsie... only tore it a teensy bit. My eyes have gotten so dim lately, you see... honestly, now"
Acting as though nothing whatsoever had happened, he gave my back a couple of brisk swipes with a dry cloth and returned to extracting the remaining needles.
A little while later...
SMACK—
The Medicine Hall Master smacked my back once more and declared:
"All done, young'un. Hurry up and get dressed."
Grumbling, I gathered up my clothes.
"This old geezer's hands are straight-up murder..."
"What was that?"
He had heard my genuinely whispered mutter as if by sorcery. Staring at him, I said,
"Nothing at all. Anyway... so I'm perfectly fine, right?"
The Medicine Hall Master let out a hearty laugh.
"Fine, you're fine. So fine it's practically a calamity. In any case, it's high time you headed back to your quarters."
Granted my discharge, I stretched to unkink my crumpled frame and promptly readied myself to leave.
"Well then, Medicine Hall Master, I'll be on my way."
Stroking his goat beard, the Medicine Hall Master answered with laughter in his voice.
"After all that easy chatter, what's with the sudden 'Medicine Hall Master'? Just call me 'Hall Master' and be done with it, you brat."
Smiling at that, I answered.
"Yes, Hall Master."
Seeing me out of the Medicine Hall, he called after me.
"Muyeong! Since the heavens have granted you such a fine encounter, put some honest effort into your martial training too!"
With that nagging farewell at my back, I stepped out of the Medicine Hall.
Sniiiiff... haaah...
I was indulging in great, deep breaths to savor the outdoor air—my first in nearly two days—
"Young Master. Allow us to escort you to your quarters."
The enormous giant I'd seen at midday, along with his men, came up to me.
As I merely stared at him, he began introducing himself.
"Ah... I heard that you had lost your memories. Allow me to present myself to you once more."
He drew in a mighty breath, then bellowed:
"I am Dang Yun, Leader of the Red Heaven Squad, one of the five martial squads charged with the armed might of the GREAT Sichuan Dang Clan! For the time being, I and the Red Heaven Squad have been assigned to handle your protection!"
Watching Dang Yun introduce himself at a volume fit to knock my eardrums loose, I began missing the Medicine Hall a mere five steps after leaving it.
"Allow me to guide you to your quarters, Young Master."
If the frenzied Medicine Hall Master had looked every inch a man of the Unorthodox Sects, then this fellow—who, no matter how charitably you judged him, had the face of a Green Forest bandit chief—flashing me a beaming grin as he said so made me smile hollowly and think:
Haha...
Would my eardrums come out of this alive...?
In any case, under Dang Yun's guidance, I at last made my way to my quarters.
Not long after Dang Muyeong had departed.
Dang Mulin flung open the Medicine Hall doors and burst in, gasping.
Hahh... hah...
"Hall Master! Where's Muyeong?"
Though the weather was nowhere near hot enough to justify it, she came dashing in drenched in sweat, and the Medicine Hall Master answered her with an expression that plainly asked, Why on earth has she come here?
"Muyeong's all healed up—he just left for his quarters this very minute."
Watching Dang Mulin bolt back out before he could even finish, the Medicine Hall Master clicked his tongue and muttered to himself.
Tsk, tsk...
"That's gone past devotion and straight into obsession. I understand why she is the way she is, mind you—but with Muyeong coddled like that, I honestly can't see how the boy will ever manage to take a wife."