Doctor’s Rebirth - Chapter 938

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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 938
“Blood extraction technique! Hurry!”
Sama-hye shouted.
However, there was no one here like Yoo Ho who could draw blood and filth through the air-grasping technique.
There were those who had learned suction techniques, but that doctor was also busy saving the patient they were treating.
Still, there was a tool prepared for such situations.
A device that extracted blood by pumping with one’s feet.
It was inferior to air-grasping, and compared to modern medical equipment from Earth, it fell short as well, but having this much was better than nothing.
Another Medical Assistant beside her attached herself to the blood extraction device and drew out the blood.
Meanwhile, Sama-hye’s hands swiftly performed pressure point techniques and removed the contaminated affected area.
But then it happened.
The Nurse Zhong Yiyuan holding the patient’s pulse immediately cried out.
“Patriarch! The patient’s pulse…?! Immediate intervention seems necessary…!”
Before those words even finished, Sama-hye immediately assessed the patient’s condition and shouted urgently.
“Prepare neural shock!”
Saying so, she compressed the heart.
Not quite the Five Elements Divine Art, but doctors learned the Five Elements Qi Technique.
After learning the Five Elements Qi Technique and using the Cheonryong Bulsagi Gong to recover from fatigue, one could say.
Because of this, recently, those of Middle-Aged Men rank or above could generate electrical shock with bare hands.
“Neural shock, first application!”
Crack! Crackle!
One of the doctors pressed both palms together and rubbed them as lightning crackled.
Not mere static electricity, but actual neural energy manifesting.
The other doctors stepped back.
In that state, she brought it directly to the heart.
Crackle!
Jolt!
The patient’s body convulsed once.
As soon as the neural energy dissipated, she performed cardiopulmonary resuscitation while counting.
“The heart!?”
The Nurse Zhong Yiyuan spoke.
“Not yet!”
“Keep going!”
Sama-hye meanwhile poured in nourishing qi to sustain the vital force, desperately holding on.
“Neural shock, second application!”
Crackle!
Jolt!
The patient’s body convulsed once more, and Sama-hye cried out.
“The heart!? How is the pulse?”
“….”
A fleeting moment passed as if it were an eternity.
“…We’re back to normal!”
“Excellent!”
Relief bloomed across Sama-hye’s exhausted face.
‘Come to think of it, Eun Gong does use strange terminology when he’s in a rush.’
It was amusing, but everyone understood what he meant from his tone alone.
In that moment, we were all one body.
Eun Gong seemed to realize his mistake and switched to the Central Plains dialect afterward.
Still, sometimes when things get too urgent, he can’t help but cry out in that strange manner.
Now that I think about it, it’s quite a funny memory.
‘Yes. That’s how it is. That’s how you desperately save one person.’
I quickly finish up and close the wound.
‘This patient will live.’
That’s the feeling I get.
“Surgery complete! Next patient!”
Sama-hye shouted loudly as she stood up.
A Medical Assistant raised his hand urgently and called out.
“Over here, Patriarch!”
Sama-hye immediately rushed over. That was when it happened.
A Doctor approached and spoke.
“Patriarch. The patient we operated on half a shichen ago…has passed away.”
Not the person just operated on.
The one operated on before that.
At the subordinate Doctor’s report that this person had died, Sama-hye clenched her teeth.
I’m treating them.
I save those who can be saved.
But a patient I thought could be saved has died.
‘If only my skills were as excellent as Eun Gong’s…could I have saved them?’
Was the treatment wrong? That shouldn’t be possible.
My vision begins to darken.
A memory from long ago surfaces—living in an underground hovel in the back alleys of Hangzhou.
But Sama-hye walks forward.
‘Move. I have to treat the next patient.’
I fold my heart away, again and again.
Now is the time to fold it away. If I indulge in sentiment, people die.
This is the heart of a blood battlefield.
The Gangho waits for no one.
Sama-hye bit her own lip.
Pain sharpens the mind.
And she immediately threw herself into treating the next patient’s bedside.
This was Sama-hye’s first encounter with a true blood specialist at work.
Because of that.
Wounds accumulated layer upon layer in her heart.
* * *
“유호오오오! 내 만능 노예에에에에—! 어디 있어어어어어!!”
Whoooosh!
I drew out the blood using the technique of vacuuming from empty space.
The moment my vision cleared, I quickly sutured the wound and pressed my gloved hand against that area.
Sizzle!
The blazing yang qi cauterized the wound, stopping the bleeding.
“Gaaahhhhh!”
“Ah, it stings. It was supposed to sting.”
Hmm. I was already too late with the warning.
“This X-damn! @!%!^~!!”
The patient spewed curses. I nodded with a benevolent expression.
That pain was justified, after all.
Normally, I shouldn’t treat so roughly, but there’s no time.
Pressure points weren’t easy to access in this location either.
Another patient was waiting for treatment beside me.
This place was already an emergency treatment center set up in the middle of a battlefield.
Everything was in short supply.
Supplies, personnel, time.
“I’ve put out the urgent fire for now, so please transport them to Bunta!”
I immediately closed the wound site, sutured it, and moved to the next patient.
Was this patient’s leg severed?
During the journey here, the wound had been exposed to filth.
In short, they’d rolled through mud like someone tumbling down after being stabbed.
I picked up a bottle of medical alcohol and infused it with my inner qi.
Sizzle!
“Ugh, cough! Are you… pouring the alcohol using sword technique principles?”
Oh, you still have the energy to observe another’s martial arts?
Normally, with wounds this severe, they wouldn’t even have the strength to speak, or their consciousness would be wavering—it wouldn’t be strange.
This person seemed to have quite pure inner qi or considerable knowledge of life-cultivation techniques.
“Ah, yes. And this isn’t alcohol—it’s medical disinfectant. Everyone seems to confuse it with strong liquor.”
“But how is that…!? If you have such a technique, then why?”
I spoke.
“It hurts. It stings, it stings…!”
“Gaaahhhhh!”
“This is also a spot where pressure point anesthesia won’t work—should I just seal your mixed meridian? You’d pass out in the meantime?”
“Cough, how could I pass out when my enemy is in the same tent!”
Hmm.
Is he from the Dopae Gate?
He doesn’t want to collapse and fall asleep beside his enemy?
‘No, no matter what, the pain must be extreme—he’s going to endure that?’
It’s a spot where pressure points won’t work, so it has to hurt.
This is why I hate dealing with martial artists.
“So you’re Guan Yunchang. In that case, I’ll immobilize your body so you can’t move. If you want to pass out later, just say so.”
“Gaaaaaahhhhh!”
What exactly does honor mean to martial artists?
Isn’t immediate pain more pressing?
‘How can he endure this much pain and still worry about blood pressure?’
Martial artists take pain lightly.
They think losing to pain means a weak spirit, but humans can simply die from being in agony. That’s a fact.
‘Why do they regard suffering so lightly?’
I can’t understand it.
I can’t understand it, but when they say they’d rather take their own lives, there’s no answer to that.
In modern times, I’d call it bluster, but martial artists actually do it.
Since they take their own pain lightly, they also take others’ pain lightly.
Since pain is easy, life becomes easy to disregard as well.
When my own life becomes cheap, others’ lives become even cheaper.
They stake their lives and kill others, dying alongside them, all because they heard as children that some sect was their enemy.
‘I hate dealing with martial artists. Really.’
And the next patient.
The next patient is already unconscious.
‘One leg will have to be sacrificed.’
There’s no guardian, and I don’t know if the relatives who could make decisions are unconscious or dead.
Either way, there’s no choice.
To save him, amputation is the only option.
When he wakes up, he might come at me trying to kill me.
I told the middle-aged men and medical assistants.
“This is my decision alone. Tell him that when he wakes up.”
But I can’t just let him die, can I?
“That won’t do, Soggakju! If you do that, then….”
“It’s fine. Don’t you know? One of the top sixteen masters under heaven! It’s fine~ Goodness, what a fuss!”
Everyone looks at me with worried eyes.
They know my superior isn’t the type to die anywhere. But honor is.
Honor relentlessly pursues and gnaws away at a person all by itself.
I spoke deliberately lightly.
“Who knows? He might even be grateful that I saved his life. There are quite a few people like that.”
“…Understood. But please be careful.”
In this way, I saved one person and also collected one silver coin for the doctors.
I cut away the necrotic tissue and sutured the wound.
Even doing this required considerable time.
My speed was superhuman, but that didn’t mean I had multiple bodies.
Save, save, save.
Continuously.
I continued performing the Restoration Technique.
To treat so many people, I had to stay awake through the night, even draining my vital essence while caring for patients.
“Kehehehe! The Research Institute’s medicine really works wonders!”
Those with broken bones and severed muscles were the fortunate ones.
From those whose internal organs were shredded by the Heavenly Sword Technique to those who had lost their limbs forever, all the doctors had to work together to treat the diverse array of patients.
Strangely enough.
Truly strangely, even though they were struck by the same martial technique, no two wounds were identical.
Each bore different sword marks, each suffered differently as they lay wounded.
One person bore one scar, ten people bore ten different scars.
All different wounds, all different deaths.
Would their resentments also take different forms, like their wounds?
Blood Massacre was hell.
Every doctor present knew this truth.
After some time had passed, even the Baekrin Uiseon doctors from other small cities came rushing in.
Yet because there were so many patients, the treatment took considerable time.
Nearly all the disciples of the Geompaemun and Dopae-mun had gathered at this place.
The combined patients from both sects numbered nearly two hundred, which was unavoidable.
Nevertheless.
I could not save everyone.
It was only natural.
No matter how much I had become an absolute master of martial arts, and despite my surgical speed being several times faster and more precise than others, I was merely human.
I had only two hands, and only one body.
There was a limit to how many patients I could treat.
The same applied to the other doctors.
There were many patients and few doctors.
Especially few doctors capable of performing the Restoration Technique.
Even in Baekrin Uiseon, less than half of all doctors had mastered the Restoration Technique, and among those, even fewer were recognized as Medical Officers—it was inevitable.
Even with reinforcements from nearby Bunta.
The number of doctors was still fewer than the patients.
Yet the treatment continued.
One day passed, then two days.
Those destined to die had already perished, and those who survived numbered roughly one-third of those who first received treatment.
However.
From this point forward, life and death diverged once more.
Even if treated at Baekrin Uiseon, some patients still die when their bodies cannot keep pace with recovery.
During the war with the Suksin Tribe.
It happened then too.
It will happen now as well.
Jin Cheon-hee emerged with an expressionless yet clearly exhausted face and lit a cigarette.
“Sigh….”
“Eun Gong. Can I smoke one too?”
Then.
Sama-hye’s voice suddenly cut through.
“No.”
But Jin Cheon-hee severed the request with the sharpness of a blade.
“You smoke, Eun Gong.”
Sama-hye protested with a sullen expression.
“I’m different.”
“I’m a warrior too, aren’t I? How is that fair?”
“This isn’t good for your body.”
His tone was firm.
It was rare for Eun Gong to speak with such unwavering decisiveness.
It meant he would not budge an inch.
“I know. The Patriarch blended various medicinal herbs to make it.”
Watching Sama-hye’s expression that said *I know everything*, Jin Cheon-hee smiled with a hollow emptiness in his eyes.
The smile carried a bitter taste.
“So you know but still ask? Still no—Hyeon worries so much. Don’t do the same.”
Sama-hye stared intently at Jin Cheon-hee.
“Your words contradict themselves. What about the Patriarch’s heart in giving it to you?”
“That’s…. My Master understands.”
“Your mad mind?”
“Come on. That’s too much. I’m not mad. I simply…. have an obsession. Everyone does, don’t they? Martial artists cling to honor and martial prowess knowing it will kill them, yet they do it anyway.”
Whoosh—
Jin Cheon-hee sighed softly and continued.
“…Even those who endure excruciating pain tell me not to mention their blood vessels, to keep treating them.”
It’s difficult for a doctor treating them to maintain sanity.
Would Hua Tuo, treating Guan Yunchang, feel at ease scraping living flesh without anesthesia?
Gangho is a doctor’s hell.
Still, Sama-hye seemed to understand what Jin Cheon-hee meant.
The meaning of those words was this:
Aren’t I still better than those who swing blades trying to kill each other at this very moment?
Compared to them.
I am not mad.
I am not mad.
Sama-hye didn’t know how to respond to those words.
So she sighed, moved to sit beside Jin Cheon-hee, and collapsed against the wall with her back.
The weight of life was unbearable.
“Just how many times has Eun Gong experienced something like this?”
“….”
Baekrin Uiseon Sojakju.
Cheonhailgwang, Veiled Madman, Veiled Divine One, Veiled Divine Dragon.
Doctor Jin Cheon-hee.
I do not answer.
Instead, as the Master of the Medical Guild, I simply ask my disciple Hye-a this.
“Hye-a, what do you think? Do you believe this path has an end?”
A question from a Master.
It was also a question that one generation of doctors posed to the next.

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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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