An F-Rank Veterinarian Physically Heals an S-Rank Magical Beast - Chapter 103

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Chapter 103
“Jin-hyuk, are you really sure about this? Did you see the expression on that Association chairman’s face this afternoon? That man isn’t the type to back down so easily. He’s definitely plotting something behind the scenes. He might even collude with the Apollo Hospital people to make trouble for you. You know better than anyone how much power the Hunter Association wields in South Korea.”
Yoo Yi-soo leaned against the rooftop railing, her eyes filled with concern as she spoke. In her hands was a tablet containing documents about the massive taxes the hospital would need to bear, a list of anticipated regulations from the Hunter Association, and draft amendments to medical law from the Ministry of Health and Welfare.
Yoo Yi-soo had been reviewing various legal clauses for hours, developing logical arguments to shield Jin-hyuk. Though Jin-hyuk seemed utterly unconcerned.
Jin-hyuk felt the warmth of his mug and smiled faintly. The greed he had unleashed to save his wife Yoo Yi-soo had succeeded in bringing her back to him.
Moreover, it had also succeeded in giving him powerful allies (?). A wave of satisfaction washed over him.
And in his pupils gleamed a light far more intense than the brilliant neon signs of Gangnam below—the greedy light of capitalism itself. Every glittering building down there looked to him like a potential revenue source to be offered up to his hospital someday.
“Don’t worry, Yi-soo. No matter what they try, it all comes down to a battle of justifications. What Apollo Hospital’s remnants will bring up is obvious. That I lack a formal medical license to treat ‘human hunters.’ And maybe a violation of quarantine laws for bringing interdimensional creatures into the heart of the city. Or perhaps they’re preparing criminal charges for unlicensed medical practice?”
“That’s not a trivial issue. We’re opening tomorrow, and if the Ministry of Health and Welfare or the Hunter Association sends inspectors, what then? No matter how many hunters we’ve saved from the Tower, law is law. Those bastards can manipulate public opinion whenever they please to protect their vested interests.”
“That’s exactly why we’re insisting on the ‘veterinarian’ title.”
Jin-hyuk pushed his glasses up with a swift motion. The lenses caught the moonlight and gleamed coldly.
“South Korea’s hunter-related legislation still only defines magical beasts as either ‘disasters’ or ‘spoils of war.’ There is no veterinary law that treats magical beasts as ‘subjects of treatment.’ In other words, it’s a perfect legal blind spot. How can they punish us for breaking a law that doesn’t exist? We’re simply pioneers opening up a new field of ‘interdimensional creature veterinary medicine’ that doesn’t yet exist in South Korea.”
“That’s about the magical beasts. But what about those hundreds of human hunters you treated earlier? That’s undeniably medical treatment of humans.”
“That wasn’t medical treatment—it was a preventive measure implemented to prevent ‘interdimensional virus contamination’ that could spread to my magical beast patients. That’s all there is to it.”
Jin-hyuk took another sip of his remaining coffee and continued with shameless audacity.
“Those hunters crawling around in the Tower had all sorts of contaminants and unidentified mana clinging to their bodies. They nearly contaminated our hospital’s sterile rooms. What if my precious S-rank magical beast patients got infected because of those filthy humans? We should actually be billing their guilds for decontamination costs and damages.”
Yoo Yi-soo let out a hollow laugh of disbelief. Such sophistry was beyond the pale, yet strangely, when Kang Jin-hyuk spoke in that characteristic serious and logical tone of his, even a Supreme Court judge would unconsciously nod along. It was the kind of argumentation that would make even unscrupulous lawyers weep.
“Sigh… fine, fine. I’ll handle all external defense and media strategy from my desk. Until we assemble a legal team, I’ll block things with paperwork however I can. You just do what you do best—raking in money. The hospital’s maintenance costs are beyond imagination right now.”
“How reassuring. Our Arcana Medical Center’s chief director.”
“Don’t even dream of freezing my salary just because you gave me a director title. And this month’s bonus is getting a 300 percent raise including hazard pay.”
“Of course. I’ll make sure to give you 1 percent—no, 0.5 percent of my profits as a bonus.”
The two exchanged a pleasant yet ruthless capitalist dialogue that drifted through the night air of the rooftop garden. Tomorrow would be the official opening day of the Arcana Medical Center. A quiet calm, like the eye of a storm, enveloped the massive hospital building in the heart of Gangnam.
The next morning, as dawn broke, a scream that sounded like the heavens were collapsing echoed through the Underground Subspace Storage of the Arcana Medical Center.
“No, no! This cannot be! This is fake?! This is impossible!”
Namgoong Cheon, the Grand Elder of the Namgoong Family and once the Sword Demon who dominated the Martial Arts Community. He knelt on the ground, striking the earth with his fists, tears of blood streaming down his face. Wherever his fists landed, the ground cracked like a spider web, splitting with sharp sounds.
Before him lay a mountain of treasures—’99 percent pure platinum candlesticks’ and ‘diamond crystal cups’ that had been risked through the threats of life in the Tower’s 16th Floor Casino, stuffed into trouser cuffs while watching the eyes of colleagues, scraped together bit by bit.
Yet the condition of these once-glorious treasures was strange. The platinum and jewels that had shone brilliantly until last night, dazzling to the eye, had now become dull and crumbly, like cheap plaster statues weathered by centuries of wind and rain.
“Ahem, elders. You should accept reality to some degree. If you don’t believe it, look at this appraisal report carefully. Boom!”
Kim Chun-sam, with a hologram projector attached to the security robot’s torso, approached with beeping sounds. The robot’s mechanical arm moved irritably, projecting a large hologram screen into the air. On the screen, the ‘Interdimensional Material Component Precision Analysis Results’ that Jin-hyuk had commissioned through the hunter-exclusive appraisal app flashed in red letters.
[Analysis Result: Component Collapse Due to Mana Evaporation (Critical Error)]
[Details: The substance in question is not a pure natural mineral existing on Earth, but a temporary synthetic material created by the fusion of artificial mana and the Tower’s unique nectar. Within dungeons or the Tower’s interior where high concentrations of mana are maintained, it exhibits physical and visual properties perfectly identical to gold or diamonds, with the same mass.]
[Warning! However, when exposed to Earth’s atmosphere with significantly lower mana density, the mana maintaining molecular bonds evaporates, causing the structure to collapse rapidly. Current components have been identified as oxidized calcium and trace amounts of sulfur powder.]
[Current Economic Value: 0 won (Rather, it is classified as special industrial waste, incurring a disposal cost of 5,000 won per kilogram.)]
Unable to comprehend the screen’s contents, Dang Mu-young, master of poison and head of the Dang Family, picked up a thick gold coin rolling on the ground with trembling hands. It had been heavier than all the emergency funds he’d accumulated in his lifetime.
Crackle—
Remarkably, the thick gold coin crumbled like a cookie crumb with just the force of human fingers, turning into ashen powder.
The substance they had believed without doubt to be pure gold, the material they had firmly believed would allow them to build a new empire on Earth, had become nothing more than worthless chalk dust the moment it crossed into Earth’s environment.
The brilliant illusion created by the demons ruling the Tower’s 16th Floor had stripped away even the last shred of hope the Murim Alliance Elders possessed.
“My, my Gangnam apartment! My 70-pyeong penthouse with a Han River view! These vicious and terrible demonic cult bastards! To trample the Alliance Leader’s pure retirement funds with such a vile scam!”
“Alas, my fate! I crawled here risking my life, wrapping those heavy silver trays in silk cloth for fear of even a scratch, and now they’re worth less than toilet paper! My Mercedes S-Class is turning to dust before my very eyes!”
The twelve Murim Alliance Elders rolled across the floor of the underground storage, all dignity abandoned, their wails echoing through the chamber. Snippets of Earth’s most prestigious luxury brands and real estate terminology—picked up here and there from Chun-sam—tumbled naturally from their lips.
Their glorious dream of clearing their debts, becoming property owners in this new world called Earth, and spending their remaining years squandering money like water had shattered into a thousand pieces with the morning light.
At that moment, the heavy automatic door of the storage facility slid open with a soft mechanical hum, and someone walked in.
A man appeared, dressed in a pristine, perfectly pressed high-grade veterinary coat, one hand clutching a clipboard crammed with approval documents, the other adjusting his silver-rimmed glasses.
It was Kang Jin-hyuk. His footsteps echoed with the cold precision of a judge’s gavel pronouncing a death sentence.
Behind him came Ma Dong-tak, whose forearms were as thick as the Elders’ thighs, carrying a menacing iron crowbar across his shoulder and wearing a sinister smile that promised shattered bones at any moment.
“My, my, quite the spirited morning chorus we have here. Vocal exercises, perhaps? With such boundless energy, I’d say we can safely increase today’s work quota by roughly thirty percent.”
“M-Master! Or rather, Director! What is the meaning of this! All the treasures we risked our lives to bring back from that hellish place have turned to stone dust! Surely you didn’t swap the genuine articles for fakes somewhere along the way!”
As Elder Gae-bang pointed an accusing finger while tears and snot streamed down his face, Jin-hyuk tapped his clipboard and responded in an icy tone.
“Why would I resort to such petty tricks? You’ve simply been reminded of a fundamental truth: there’s no such thing as a free lunch in this world. The 16th Floor of the Tower was originally designed as a playground for demons meant to corrupt humanity through illusions and desire. There’s no reason material from that place would hold any value in the real world of Earth. Think about it logically.”
“B-but then the debt we agreed to have forgiven yesterday…! It wasn’t all settled with these treasures!”
Jin-hyuk’s lips stretched into a grin more demonic than any demon’s.
“Of course not. In fact, rather than being forgiven, your debt has multiplied like cells dividing.”
“Wh-what! Multiplied! Didn’t you clearly say yesterday that the principal would be forgiven, that all we needed to do was stamp these documents!”
“You spoke well. I said I’d give you the ‘opportunity’ to clear the principal, but I never said I’d waive the ancillary fees and interest, did I? And these stone dust remains won’t even cover one-tenth of the principal. Shall we calculate it carefully?”
Jin-hyuk flipped a page on his clipboard and began rattling off receipt details like machine-gun fire.
“First, the ‘Dimensional Gate Special Transit Fee’ incurred when crossing from Tower Floor 18 to Earth. Since I opened a VIP direct route using my personal mana and precious artifacts, that’s 100 million won per person.”
The Murim Alliance Elders’ jaws dropped at Jin-hyuk’s words.
“Second, the meal expenses from yesterday when you all greedily devoured fifty servings of premium two-horned Korean beef ribeye and special cuts, plus vintage wine, to celebrate your arrival on Earth.”
“Th-this isn’t the end, is it?”
“Listen carefully. Third, the maintenance fees for this state-of-the-art air purification system in the Pocket Dimension Hospital where you’re currently breathing. This includes the cost of processing the carbon dioxide you exhale.”
Tears welled up in the eyes of the Murim Alliance Elders. Jin-hyuk pretended not to notice and continued speaking. A contract with the Murim Alliance Elders was a contract, after all.
“Fourth, the risk management fee due to interdimensional exchange rate fluctuations specified in the contract from the other day. And most importantly, those broken stone dust fragments you’re clutching there. Since they’re industrial waste, they can’t even be separated for recycling. We need to call a special waste disposal company to incinerate them, and when you add all those costs together….”
The Elders’ breathing grew labored. With each breath, with each heartbeat, their debt multiplied in real-time—a miraculous logic of capitalism.
“Even with rough calculations, you’ve each accumulated an additional 500 million won on top of your existing debt. Of course, don’t worry too much. According to the ‘Arcana Medical Center Special Caregiver Employment Contract’ you signed yesterday, you can pay it off diligently with your bodies. The hourly wage is based on Earth’s minimum wage, and during the three-month probationary period, you’ll only receive eighty percent. Naturally, there’s no paid leave or four major insurance benefits—those are extraterritorial. Food and dormitory provision costs will be deducted directly from your monthly salary without exception.”
“Gasp! You heartless, merciless fiend! Even the Demon Cult’s leader would show more compassion than you!”
As Namgoong Cheon clutched his neck and collapsed, coughing blood, Ma Dong-tak, standing behind him, slammed his iron crowbar against the floor with a thunderous bang. The entire pocket dimension storage facility resonated as if struck by an earthquake.
“Gentlemen. Our Director Kang is speaking. Shouldn’t you be paying attention? Just because I gave you some intense spine stretching in the PT room yesterday, you haven’t already lost your discipline, have you? Should I perhaps rearrange your 5th and 6th vertebrae to help you regain focus?”

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————