Doctor’s Rebirth - Chapter 777

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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 777
Hwang-gu’s speed surpassed even that of a horse.
However, this did not mean that Jasi, who rode in the cart pulled by Hwang-gu, could endure that velocity and the ride quality.
“Jasi, you really must learn martial arts soon.”
“What kind of cursed dog is faster than a horse…. Uuuugh!”
The moment we arrived at the harbor, Jasi immediately vomited from motion sickness, and I patted his back to comfort him.
For Jasi, who had not yet learned martial arts, I decided to travel using the most traditional method available.
By ship.
Fortunately, Jasi said he did not suffer from seasickness.
‘Though he’s only ever been on a boat floating on a lake.’
Still, it was worth attempting.
The documents sent from Gaebang proved helpful in many ways.
First, I confirmed that the Sichuan Tang Family was safe.
Because of the Righteous Faction War, Dang-a was engaged in fierce battles on the front lines, and rumors already spoke of her surpassing the Gaju in cultivation.
The Hyeolpyeon-wang—the Blood Transformation King—and the Poison King.
She had earned titles befitting a Gaju of the Tang Family, it was said.
‘Of course, many of the Tang Family’s blood relatives died during the blood wars.’
But that was simply the nature of Gangho.
Dang-a, who once wavered between being a family member and her true self, now carried debts of gratitude.
Dang-a now bore the family’s debts of gratitude, and she herself had become the object of such debts.
‘When she ascends to the position of Gaju, that’s when things will truly begin.’
Fighting, fighting, and fighting onward.
Nowhere in Dosan Sword Forest was truly safe.
To protect the sect members within that realm, one would need to become ruthless.
Reading through several lines of the documents left a bitter taste in my mouth, but Dang-a was not the type to show mercy to those in her grasp.
Many had died from the poison and whip wielded by the Hyeolpyeon-wang.
The Sichuan Tang Family’s Poison King.
It might be a heavy title for her age.
‘When Dang-a ascends from Poison King to Poison Emperor, what will Gangho look like?’
I cannot know. I cannot possibly know, but….
Yet I felt it was bearable, perhaps because I had experienced true hell.
Whether one learned demonic arts or boatman’s techniques, whether one became entangled in debts of gratitude—ultimately it came down to a single blade and a single life.
The hell of Dosan Sword Forest seemed cleaner than a paradise that burned children for an entire city’s sake.
‘A bastard born is a bastard born.’
A world where burning people created immediate miracles.
After deliberating, I sent Dang-a a brief letter.
It was nothing significant.
It was a business proposal to jointly develop the trade route I had just opened.
Money was always necessary.
Especially during a Righteous Faction War like this.
The Sichuan Tang Family is particularly well-positioned geographically, being close to the new territories.
Now that I’ve committed to protecting the Tang Family, my hands will never be free of blood.
‘With money, I can at least prevent the worst outcomes.’
Lately, I’ve come to think that if I can’t stop the blood curse itself, perhaps I can help the people around me in this way.
‘Is that also growth?’
Facing reality and learning to compromise.
‘The war between the Martial Arts Alliance and Sadoren didn’t actually start for any grand reason.’
While the Eighteen Green Forest Strongholds weakened and barricaded themselves in their mountain fortresses.
A small vacuum opened in the Gangho.
No matter how vast the Dosan Sword Forest was, there were still empty spaces, and others sought to fill them.
That’s how some of the Heterodox Faction members turned into mountain bandits.
Normally, the Green Forest bandits at least discriminated when robbing merchants and collected tolls like a proper business, but how would newly-minted black-path bandits know such things?
They plundered indiscriminately, and the families of martial artists who died in the chaos began seeking revenge.
The conflicts grew larger and larger, until finally several sects of Sadoren and several factions of the Martial Arts Alliance clashed directly.
‘They say the Sadoryeonju himself got involved in that mess, but nothing’s certain.’
Either way, the tension had already escalated to its peak.
Grudges accumulated like geological strata, and the stakes kept rising.
So the impulse to resolve it has always existed in the Gangho.
The Great Righteous-Heterodox War.
A warehouse full of gunpowder. The spark that would ignite it someday finally came.
In the commoner territories, the garrison soldiers maintained order, but everywhere else, the Righteous and Heterodox Factions drew blades against each other and began fighting.
‘It’s strange. Why do they willingly start wars?’
Fighting causes pain when you’re wounded.
Death is terrifying.
Ordinary people would instinctively flee, yet martial artists charged forward under the banners of grudges and martial honor.
They dedicated their entire lives to the blade.
Doctors say it plainly.
No matter how prettily you frame it, martial arts are ultimately killing techniques.
Even if all things return to their source and accumulated practice touches the Way itself.
We don’t call cooking or carpentry martial arts, do we?
And the fact that they spent their entire lives perfecting martial arts.
Simply means they spent their whole lives learning only how to kill people.
‘Am I being too cold?’
Yet throughout my second life, I’ve stitched together the wounds of such people.
Suturing those wounds, saving patients—what I felt was that no matter how beautifully packaged, martial arts ultimately injure and kill someone.
‘Perhaps that’s why I’m called Ilgwang.’
For those who spent their lives learning the blade, the Great Righteous-Heterodox War was something like destiny.
They wished to be proud priests, ancestors, and forebears.
They wished to be proud masters and proud disciples.
They wished to open the blood pathways, repay their grudges, gain enlightenment, and ascend.
However, only a very few among them could achieve such a feat.
Only those blessed with talent, those who prepared extensively, or those favored by heaven’s fortune could manage it.
I heard that several sects had already suffered near-catastrophic losses, with only a handful of disciples and martial artists remaining in some places.
Since I had been outside the world, I had no way of knowing about this conflict.
And now, we were in a sort of stalemate.
Both sides had sustained enormous casualties from their relentless fighting.
‘The Five Rings Society didn’t involve itself in this war and profited by selling supplies to both sides.’
Baekrin Uiseon, Gongseon Family, Bota Clan, Hao-mun (partially), Namgung Family.
Hao-mun was only partially involved because many of its members held dual positions with Sadoren, and since the Golden Blood Hall formed its core, they hadn’t forced the lower allied sects to participate.
In war, there are those who fight and those who profit.
The Five Rings Society had made enormous wealth.
From internal injury medicines to weapons and provisions.
In the end, the true victor of this great righteous-heterodox war was the Five Rings Society.
The Righteous and Heterodox Factions had shed so much blood that their power had fallen to half of what it once was.
‘Though it pales in comparison to the time of Jicheon Cheonma.’
Despite the bloodshed, the damage to commoners was minimal.
Many masters had survived as well.
As I pondered this situation, I detected the scent of winter in the air.
It was my Master’s scent.
‘Surely not….’
And why shouldn’t it be?
I couldn’t discern from the records alone what my Master had done here, but this outcome was far too—truly far too—favorable to Baekrin Uiseon.
In games, there was something called an editor.
Most modern games wouldn’t allow it, but around the Windows 95 era, it was incredibly popular.
The Romance of the Three Kingdoms editor was particularly famous—a cheat program that let you manipulate the game however you wished.
Through it, you could swap out money, commanders, and provisions entirely, enabling absolutely broken gameplay that destroyed all balance.
‘No, that’s ridiculous. It’s not like some human is running a real Middle Kingdom editor….’
Yet no matter how I looked at it, the results in this record were simply too, far too….
‘Master?!’
* * *
The records sent from Gaebang contained far too much implicit information.
While I flipped through the records once more on the boat, searching for traces of my Master, Jasi marveled at the vastness of the Yangtze River.
“The river is as enormous as the sea. How fascinating. Isn’t it, Isha?”
Click-clack, click-clack.
Jasi’s bone necklace swayed gently.
Isha, now a spirit, seemed to be enjoying this boat ride as well.
‘Fortunately, it seems he really doesn’t get seasick.’
Jasi remained at the bow of the boat.
He gazed intently at the surrounding scenery and spoke.
“I’ve heard the Hua Empire is a prosperous land, and it certainly is. The spirits here are all remarkably strong.”
“There’s a spirit here too, it seems.”
“But it’s not in the position of being ‘revered’ like where I was. Humans seem to trust the land itself more than spirits.”
Was she talking about geomancy?
Indeed, while there were no spirit sorcerers, there were geomancers who could read the earth’s veins.
I spoke up.
“Each region probably has its own folk beliefs. But Confucius said he didn’t discuss strange powers and chaotic spirits, and Confucianism is quite strong here.”
“Ooh, then it might be a surprisingly peaceful place?”
“Ah, not quite. Humans are humans whether in the Middle Kingdom or beyond—that doesn’t change. It’s just that in a nation, such strange powers and chaotic spirits are excluded from discourse. At most, there are ancestor veneration ceremonies or observing the stars to predict the future.”
“Hmm. Interesting. But that’s only possible because this land is so abundant.”
I didn’t deny her words.
If I hadn’t ventured beyond, I might have viewed things with more arrogance.
But after struggling through that place, what I came to understand was this:
-I can’t think I’m inherently more ethical than those people. Humans don’t know until they’re actually in that situation. Everything is just speculation. How can I be so certain I’d be different from them?
It was something a psychiatrist I knew had once said.
He’d even said it while settling a traffic accident.
His Mercedes had crossed a river of no return, and he himself had to be hospitalized for a month, yet he still agreed to the settlement.
His nickname was Buddha.
Only after dying several times did those words finally sink in.
So rather than judging others by my own standards, I felt the answer was to do what I could right in front of me.
“Jasi, shall we try the horse stance once more?”
On the boat, I taught Jasi the fundamentals of martial arts.
By fundamentals, I mean building up the lower body and teaching proper breathing.
Jasi lasted longer than expected.
While not at a warrior’s level, shamans were certainly superhuman beings who surpassed ordinary people.
“Are you feeling the energy center?”
The inner muscles of Jasi’s thighs trembled.
“I can feel it, but having to maintain this uncomfortable posture while breathing the same way… this is too… ugh…!”
“Still, you’re doing much better than an ordinary person, Jasi.”
“The Middle Kingdom people I met before were sitting cross-legged and breathing?”
“We’ll do that later, but since you’re a shaman, moving cultivation will suit you better.”
Cultivation methods typically have stationary meditation and moving cultivation.
As Jasi said, stationary meditation was usually taught first.
Moving cultivation was harder to build inner strength from, and despite the repetitive motions, the enlightenment gained was minimal.
That’s why martial arts in Gangho typically centered on stationary meditation.
But I was teaching Jasi moving cultivation first.
“Moving cultivation is very efficient for building physical strength right away. Besides, since you handle shamanic power, if you ever need to protect yourself, you’ll use shamanism rather than martial arts. In that case, learning moving cultivation is better. Right? Isha?”
Whoosh—!
A breeze swept across my hair.
“That’s right.”
“This creature follows you more than me, the contractor. Unbelievable.”
“It’s all thanks to ice cream. Well, good food is the best, after all.”
As I spent time with Isha, I made sure to offer her delicious food every single day.
Though invisible to the eye, I could still sense Isha through the movement of the wind and the jingling of Jasi’s necklace.
‘And perhaps by simply providing her meals like this every day, Isha might grow stronger in some way.’
Of course, there wouldn’t be any immediate results.
But after providing hundreds, thousands of meals to Hwang-gu and Noeji, hadn’t I eventually witnessed how much they had grown?
Spirits were no different.
Even if there were no immediate effects, I had a feeling that something good might happen if I kept at it consistently.
Of course, even though Isha had become a spirit, she was still just a child who naturally loved delicious food.
“Mmm! This tastes divine.”
“You’re doing well. Just hold on for 10 more seconds. 10, 9, 8….”
I began reciting two, then half of two, then half of half of two, then half of half of half of two.
“You really haven’t heard people say you drive them mercilessly?”
“Me? That can’t be right.”
I lied without the slightest hesitation.

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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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