Doctor’s Rebirth - Chapter 512

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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 512
‘At least I came out. That’s fortunate.’
If their target was me, the Baekrin Medical Guild headquarters would surely become a sea of flames.
Fortunately, I left the Baekrin forces behind and came out as bait myself—a wise decision.
‘I didn’t plan this as a scheme, but the pieces fell into place perfectly.’
After organizing my thoughts, I opened my mouth.
“Haesa Bangju needs to wake up soon and provide information.”
“Indeed. We’ll make him talk even if we have to torture him.”
Samjeolchuho’s eyes gleamed with anticipation.
She possessed neither the overwhelming power of Hyeon the Cheonma, nor the brilliant strategies of the Jegallim Family, nor the influence of a prestigious clan like the Namgung Family.
She had none of these things.
Yet her tenacity was unmatched in this era.
With only that relentless persistence, she had tormented the Hyeolseonggyo to this extent.
If she said she would find out, then as long as he remained alive, she surely would.
“….”
“How fortunate that you’re here. I was able to keep him breathing.”
“Nothing is certain yet. We must wait and see.”
“Do you know how tenacious bandits can be? If we’ve kept him alive to this extent, he’ll cling to life even if he has to grab the Grim Reaper by the collar. What does it matter if he’s lost both arms? He’s not the type to take his own life over that, and even if he tried, would it be easy?”
Would it really be so?
Samjeolchuho continued speaking calmly.
“Bandits and pirates are peculiar creatures—they commit every conceivable evil, yet strangely believe in the afterlife. They’d rather roll in a dung heap in this world than fall into hell, so don’t worry too much.”
As we continued our conversation, I suddenly sensed movement from Haesa Bangju.
“Ugh… ugh….”
“Are you awake?”
“Damn it, I’m indebted to Ilgwang twice now.”
“Haha, it’s fortunate you still have the spirit to joke.”
I examined Haesa Bangju thoroughly with various checks.
“Fortunately, your mind is intact.”
Soon he carefully examined his own body.
And without difficulty, he realized that both his arms were gone.
“Ugh…!”
Samjeolchuho placed a hand on his neck.
“Attempting suicide will be impossible. One person before you is a master of medicine, and the other—though I’m reluctant to say it myself—is a master of torture.”
Just moments ago she had loudly proclaimed he wouldn’t take his own life, but it seemed she had been secretly worried.
Tears streamed down Haesa Bangju’s face at Samjeolchuho’s words.
“What grudge do you have against me that you cut off my arms!”
“Your arms were already beyond recovery when I arrived.”
As a doctor, I explained calmly.
But how could a heterodox sect leader not harbor resentment?
“Damn it! Ilgwang! I swear I will…!”
“….”
This was how such matters always unfolded.
Some were grateful to be alive despite losing an arm, while others despised the doctor precisely because their arm had been severed.
Emergency situations in the Gangho brought every conceivable complication.
Normally, a doctor would consult with the patient or their guardian before surgery, but in cases like Haesa Bangju—unconscious with no one to make decisions—the doctor had no choice but to rely on their own judgment.
There was no right answer.
Even if I severed the arm, I could face resentment for a lifetime.
Had I chosen otherwise.
The patient’s family or friends might come to kill me for letting him die without amputating the arm.
Such was the Gangho, such was its nature.
“All these decisions were made by my judgment alone. The responsibility rests entirely with me.”
At least I should redirect all the resentment that might otherwise fall upon the other doctors toward myself.
“Ilgwang! Ilgwaaaaaang–!!”
In that moment, Samjeolchuho reached out and pressed her hand against Haesa Bangju’s mouth, silencing him.
“Dorang went as far as he could go. And my brother here keeps trying to shoulder others’ karma so naturally. It’s absolutely maddening.”
She struck a pressure point on Haesa Bangju’s meridian, preventing him from speaking further.
“Haesa Bangju. Do you have any right to resent others? If you lived as a heterodox cultivator, sucking the blood of others, shouldn’t you have been prepared to have your limbs torn apart? Why are you so broken?”
“Ughh… khkhkhkh…!”
“I seem to have struck the pressure point incorrectly. Your voice is leaking through, I see. Well, fine then. I’ll let you make sounds. But your tongue is still stiff, yes? Mm. Yes, it’s quite rigid.”
She deliberately mimicked a doctor’s manner as she looked down at Haesa Bangju.
“Kgh… kghhhhhh!”
“What in this world truly belongs to you or to me? Did you think that being revered as one of the ten greatest masters would guarantee a comfortable twilight? How foolish. Compose yourself.”
She was someone who could resort to torture if necessary, and she was confident he wouldn’t easily choose suicide.
Only then did I understand why she was speaking at such length.
‘She didn’t want to torture him.’
If it became necessary, she would do it—but even so, there remained a person within Samjeolchuho.
Humans possessed empathy, and as long as compassion existed within one’s heart, torturing another would wound oneself as well.
She was doing this so she could sleep a little better at night.
“Here’s my proposal. If you cooperate with my questions, that’s all well and good. I’m quite skilled at extracting secrets, as you well know from my reputation.”
“Kgh….”
“Beasts, when they succeed in a hunt, devour the entrails first. Perhaps that’s why I’ve become rather skilled at torturing the viscera. Not a single dark cultivator has endured it thus far.”
“Kgh, kgh, kgh….”
“There. Finally, some venom returns to your eyes.”
Though Haesa Bangju’s tongue was immobilized by the pressure point and he couldn’t move it, I could sense what curses he was hurling.
Surely they were oaths that only hell itself would hear.
Curses poured forth with the malice of three lifetimes.
Samjeolchuho met that seething murderous intent head-on without flinching.
“In exchange, if you cooperate well, I’ll send you home with some gold. If you wish, I can have my friend’s friend spread word that your reputation remains intact—that you, one of the ten greatest masters and Haesa Bangju, have retired from the world.”
“Kgh.”
“Yes. Even if word spreads of your retirement, how many in the Gangho would believe it? Still, your hometown people might remember you, and perhaps they’ll erect a stone marker at your grandmother’s grave. It’s been a long time since you’ve been home, hasn’t it?”
“Hack…?”
“You must find it strange that I know even that much. Still, you’ll manage to live in that empty house without your grandmother. If you have decent rapport with people, the villagers in that rural area will hide you. You could scrape by in hiding until your final days. I know several dark cultivators who live that way.”
“Ugh… ack.”
“That gold is for that purpose. How you use it is your choice. You’ve lost both arms now—if you use it for yourself, you’ll surely die. If you use it for others… well, you’d better use it well. It’s not easy to build karma at this late stage.”
“…”
“Then I’ll give you time to think.”
Samjeolchuho spoke thus and left the room with me.
The door closed, and silence filled the dwelling.
Perhaps due to the severing, even the sound of insects was absent from this artificially quiet place as she gazed at the moon.
Behind her echoed only the terrible screams of Haesa Bangju, who had lost both arms.
Samjeolchuho listened to it quietly.
Eventually, unable to contain curiosity, I asked.
“Are there truly dark cultivators who lived hidden until their final days?”
“None. Usually they’re cut down and die within three years.”
…So it was a lie after all.
“If you give gold, word might spread, wouldn’t it?”
“Well, even without both arms, a master who’s reached Hwagyeong won’t die easily. With both legs intact, they can at least fend for themselves.”
Samjeolchuho opened his mouth.
“Brother, those of us like this… we have only two choices: become stronger or die. Don’t judge us by the life of a doctor. Our lives aren’t human lives—they’re the lives of war horses. What happens when a war horse breaks its leg?”
“First, we try to heal it.”
“Yes. But if healing doesn’t solve it?”
“We use it for meat. The bones we use for medicine.”
“Exactly. Dark cultivators are those who chose to live the life of war horses in human bodies. They chose to live as beasts—so why would they wish to die as humans?”
“Then why did you say such things?”
Samjeolchuho gazed at the moon again.
“It’s opium for the spirit. Humans become unpredictable without hope. Hope creates purpose, and if one knows that purpose, the next action becomes predictable.”
Truly, words worthy of Samjeolchuho.
Soon she turned back with a bitter smile.
“My ending will likely be the same someday.”
“But you’re not a dark cultivator.”
“Perhaps I appeared that way because I only showed good sides to you. Didn’t I say it? That I’m confident in torture more than anyone. And since I’ve decided to bear my younger sister’s sins together, I too cannot expect a good ending. That’s how it is.”
Ah, now I remembered what she’d said about living hidden.
In the past, Samjeolchuho had spoken of it.
How she would destroy her younger sister’s dantian and enter the mountains to atone for a lifetime, living quietly.
That she was neither a righteous cultivator nor a sage, nor a good person.
That she had only lived her entire life searching for her younger sister.
Only then did I understand.
That offer to give a little gold and send him home was also Samjeolchuho’s own wish.
And that statement about no one surviving three years…
…was also her own future.
The groans echoing from behind gradually subsided.
“Well then…. That should do it.”
She brushed off her rear and stood up.
Whether to torture him or offer opium.
Now it was up to Haesa Bangju.
* * *
“I’ll forgo going home. Instead, take me to the place I mention later.”
Haesa Bangju replied with a face swollen from tears.
“I see. You’re saying such things because you don’t trust me either.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter, does it?”
“No, it doesn’t. It’s your life after all.”
Still, his breathing had become far more regular.
It meant he had decided to accept the opium Samjeolchuho offered.
Had his determination to survive lifted him back to his feet?
Samjeolchuho pulled a chair over and sat down.
It was a silent pressure—small talk was becoming tedious, so produce the answer.
At her words, Haesa Bangju spoke without hesitation.
“Well…. As you know, after I lost to that bastard Ilgwang, some of the Haesa Bangju members started refusing to listen to me.”
“Your organizational control dropped significantly. All this time you had the pride of standing alongside one of the ten greatest masters under heaven, but well, I suppose that’s all gone now. And you’re not the type to build goodwill among people either.”
“You keep picking at it. If you keep this up, I’ll just shut my mouth and say ‘let fate decide.'”
“Go ahead and see. I’ll show you just how terrifying Samjeolchuho can be.”
“My, how ominous.”

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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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