Doctor’s Rebirth - Chapter 216

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 216
Professor Jin considered the taste of the situation and drew the Bing Jeong Sword instead of the Tan Ji Cheon Tong.
At the level of reaching sword examination mastery, the Tan Ji Cheon Tong alone would not suffice.
Once one reaches the pinnacle of supreme mastery, they sense energy projectiles and evade them, so if I carelessly increased the power, I might lose here and end up treating gunshot wounds in the ER.
‘This won’t do. Gunshot wounds are difficult!’
Through various field experiences, I had plenty of experience treating gunshot wounds, but blade wounds were far more manageable.
Korean ERs primarily dealt with stab wounds.
Violent incidents, robbery cases, and even gang conflicts frequently brought patients to the ER.
When gangsters got stabbed, they had no choice but to go to the emergency room.
Sometimes rival gang members from the opposing faction would come to the same ER, and I remembered how awkward those situations became.
Still, they never caused a scene.
Rather, there were times when they’d bow at ninety degrees in suits and try to slip me money, asking me to take good care of their boss—I’d sweated profusely returning that money.
‘If a wound must occur, a blade wound is better.’
I wanted to avoid the absurd fate of treating gunshot wounds I’d inflicted myself. With such a fated mad thought, I analyzed my opponent.
‘Is Cheon
I-
mun’s sword a flexible blade?’
Clang!
The moment the blades met, I felt the subtle principle of softness overcoming hardness.
“Impressive. You’ve reached quite a level.”
Unlike Cheon I-mun’s admiration, I was thinking something different.
‘Swordsmanship… if I cut wrong, I might end up stitching myself!’
Desire for victory? Fear of defeat?
For warriors, victory and defeat divide and end, but for me, everything begins after victory and defeat are decided.
‘Fractures… I must avoid those. If the blade path goes wrong and an arm gets severed, I’d have to go perform microsurgical reattachment!’
Meanwhile, Cheon I-mun felt chills from my expression.
‘Can a human wear such an expression? It’s as if… the eyes of a sage indifferent to victory and defeat! Yet those hands move like a malevolent spirit. I’ve never seen anyone like this except Master.’
Deep in this misunderstanding, Cheon I-mun launched his second attack.
A heavy sword infused with sword force surprisingly fell from above to below, following the principle of the flexible blade.
As they say, you see only what you know.
I realized that if I blocked this sword, my stance would crumble and expose me to the next attack, and conversely, if I deflected it to the side, the flexible blade’s principle would immediately bring a counterattack.
‘Offense and defense as one. This is the divine technique of perfect learning.’
I was curious about the name of this swordsmanship.
Sensing considerable martial mastery, I twisted my sword with reverence.
Tai Chi Wisdom Sword.
I met the flexible blade with a flexible blade.
The softness overcoming hardness of the two-flower grafting twists the heavy sword, drawing the tai chi.
“!”
Strangely, no sound of blade striking blade could be heard, and my form scattered and vanished like dispersing wind.
Tai chi and five elements, combined with the Heavenly Foresight that occupies the directions—my form became like dandelion seeds scattered in the wind.
When the strike he’d been certain would land failed to connect, Cheon I-mun immediately unleashed his next move.
Spear-Immortal Sword Technique.
Wind and Fire Sword Form–!
Cheon I-mun’s blade scattered into dozens of fragments, each carrying its own sword energy, swirling around like a membrane of steel.
Had Jin Cheon-hee been caught within that spacing, the sword strikes would have been devastating enough to reduce him to minced meat.
Crash and boom!
Yet something felt wrong. Between the successive sword strikes and slashes, he sensed a faint killing intent cutting through the air.
And the moment he realized it–
Clang!
A steel sphere tore through the blade.
‘So the real attack was the steel sphere!’
He understood that the qi bullets had actually been reduced in power.
At that same instant, Jin Cheon-hee appeared directly in his field of vision.
‘I should have attacked with a point, not a line.’
As Cheon I-mun regretted, Jin Cheon-hee smiled faintly.
‘If the opponent doesn’t know where I am, they shouldn’t use their next move either.’
A single moment to withdraw an attack was worth its weight in gold.
The technique of scattering sword strikes around once out of sight was clever, but if someone could read even that move, the flaws would be exposed just like this.
Jin Cheon-hee’s blade came flying. And the moment it made contact, he turned the blade edge-on to the side.
Wudang Ten-Stage Golden Technique!
Crack!
His skull rang out.
Though he hastily defended with his inner energy, he couldn’t prevent his brain from shaking and consciousness from slipping away.
His knees buckled and he collapsed forward.
The last thing he saw was Jin Cheon-hee’s worried face.
“Ah… did I hit too hard? That wasn’t supposed to happen.”
Damn it.
A curse rose to his lips but couldn’t escape his mouth. He simply lacked the strength.
In the moment consciousness faded–
He felt Jin Cheon-hee grasp his wrist and check his meridians.
“Ah, thank goodness. Still, you’re a supreme master, so you defended just before impact. My goodness, well done! You worked hard. Rest well and let’s meet healthy next year.”
“…”
Cheon I-mun lost consciousness, feeling something inexplicably bizarre.
After finishing, I turned around and saw that Hu Yun had won in the novices’ match. But the moment Hu Yun’s eyes met mine, he gave a bitter smile and cupped his fists in surrender.
“I concede.”
Uwaaaaaaaaa!
The method was… somewhat strange.
Overwhelming martial prowess!
The spectators erupted in enthusiasm and cheers.
“See! Seo Baek-ryong is the strongest after all!”
“Ah, if I’d known this would happen, I should’ve put my money on Seo Baek-ryong!”
“He’s so handsome! Seo Baek-ryong!”
“Amazing!”
I felt the passionate roar wash over my entire body with such intensity that my ears rang, and I couldn’t help but think.
‘Ah, so this is why warriors stake their lives on the Yongbong Assembly.’
It felt almost like being intoxicated by a drug.
Everyone gazing at me, revering me, all at once erupting in fervent enthusiasm for my martial prowess—it was dizzying.
‘Hehehehe…!’
I was happy. Purely. Foolishly.
Professor Jin discovered something new within himself.
‘Ah… so this is it. Yes, this was it.’
I’d often seen protagonists in martial arts novels soliloquize: “Hmph, what use is this trivial Yongbong Assembly? What good is appearing strong when the Heavenly Realm exists beyond…!”
But I felt none of that emptiness, that ennui. Not even one percent of it.
‘Being called handsome feels so good.’
A modern person thrives on praise.
Still, I had some dignity, so I couldn’t boast openly. Instead, I met their eyes with a gentle smile and cupped my fist in salute.
“Thank you.”
Waaaaaaa!!
Had there ever been a warrior who greeted the crowd like this after a match?
Now that I thought about it, it made sense there hadn’t been. What madman does fan service during a martial tournament?
I swung both arms widely, waving my hands enthusiastically as I descended with such brightness.
The spectators began chanting Seo Baek-ryong’s name.
“Brother, your portrait paintings are going to sell like hotcakes. They’re already selling well…”
“You sell those too?”
Sama Hyeon answered.
“If it makes money, we sell it~ It’s not like it wears out. I’ll cut you in on it too.”
In this world without portrait rights, offering to cut someone in meant essentially proposing a business partnership.
Feeling the presence of a capitalist madman in Sama Hyeon, I nodded.
“Donate it to the Baek Hwan Foundation.”
“Sure. Then I pay less taxes anyway, so it works out~”
Looking to the side, Yeo Ha-ryun still had fire blazing in his eyes.
“Brother. I’m glad you’re safe.”
It was fortunate these two hadn’t fought… well, not exactly.
From the atmosphere, it seemed Yeo Ha-ryun was silently reciting “one,” or perhaps since Sama Hyeon had scratched that away, maybe “two.”
‘What am I going to do with these guys… these two…?’
* * *
A high pavilion overlooking the martial arena.
Though the distance was considerable, it was the perfect vantage point for martial masters to observe, and here the Martial Arts Alliance Leader, Jegalling, and the Chief Commander Dokgo Seon watched the match together.
“Hahaha, I’m worried because Hee is so kind. Seeing him try to end a match against a supreme master of the sword without leaving a scratch—it worries me even more.”
The man expressing his worry was smiling.
To translate it: ‘My disciple can finish a confrontation against a master swordsman without a scratch, thanks to his exceptional martial prowess!’
The Martial Arts Alliance Leader regarded Jegalling with a lukewarm expression.
‘Baek Rin-ui-seon… Your eight-fold seclusion has grown even more severe. Was everything before merely a taste?’
The mad Jegalling of old—who once bore the karma of the blood assassin and butchered men like livestock—still lingered vividly in memory.
That man who never smiled except for the faint, reluctant business smile he offered in passing.
How could he now be brimming with such vitality, fanning himself with animated gestures, lost in happiness?
‘I’ve seen his expression change countless times when speaking of his disciple… but to witness it firsthand like this is truly….’
He had no choice but to match his mood here.
His instinct as the Alliance Leader was telling him so.
Jegalling was genuine.
“I’ve heard much of Seo Baek-ryong’s unnamed technique, but I never imagined it to be this formidable. It must be thanks to your exceptional guidance.”
“Ahem, that’s not so. I merely offer the slightest assistance. He insists on growing alone, which always worries me. They say disciples should be raised like weeds, yet my heart finds no peace… Even healing his own body was his own doing….”
To translate it: ‘My disciple grew on his own. He’s simply exceptional. Praise my disciple!’
Jegalling immediately redirected any praise directed at himself straight to his disciple.
‘Indeed, he’s always been indifferent to flattery aimed at himself.’
Baek Rin-ui-seon.
Having ascended to that position, he’d heard countless flatteries from many.
When one’s own son, daughter, wife, or husband could fall ill, it was only natural that people wanted to stay on good terms with Baek Rin-ui-seon.
Yet Baek Rin-ui-seon had always responded to such praise with indifference.
It was natural. He understood why they flattered him.
As a survivor of the Jegal Family, he would feel it keenly.
But praise for his disciple was different.
Had the blood of his eight-fold seclusion, dormant until now, finally begun to boil?
Whenever this madman subtly pressured him to praise his disciple further, the Alliance Leader sometimes felt less like a person and more like a wooden puppet created solely to dispense praise.
The Alliance Leader quickly glanced at military commander Dokgo Seon. Dokgo Seon caught the Alliance Leader’s gaze and nodded.
‘I understand, Alliance Leader!’
Dokgo Seon spoke with heartfelt emotion.
“Truly an exceptional disciple! I’m astounded. Where did such a promising talent emerge from….”
“Hehehehe, always a disciple who gives me headaches.”
Again, he feigned indifference while truly appearing to worry—another layer of pretense.
‘Can a person… truly change this much….’

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