I Became the Oriental Doctor for Divine Beasts - Chapter 36

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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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A doctor to the divine beings.
#36
The next morning.
Before opening the door to Baek Myodang, I decided to visit Jo Mi-so first.
I’d wanted to rush over yesterday, but I’d nearly exhausted my spiritual energy treating Detective Jin Do-gyeong.
In times like this, it was better to rest properly for a night than to push myself.
“Director Go, over here!”
A vehicle was already waiting in front of the clinic.
In the driver’s seat sat Detective Jin Do-gyeong’s partner, with Detective Jin Do-gyeong in the passenger seat.
The partner was a cheerful-looking man with a hint of Gyeongsang province dialect in his speech.
“Director Go Yeon-hee, I’ve heard a lot about you.”
He glanced at me through the rearview mirror with a friendly smile.
“You’re young but handle a lot of celebrity patients, they say~. I’m counting on you for Jo Mi-so and my partner.”
“…Yes. I’ll do my best.”
Soon we arrived at the hospital.
It was a large hospital affiliated with the Baek Ho Group, where Chairman Baek Ho-joong had once been admitted.
“I’ll be back.”
“Yes, I’ll wait in the parking lot.”
I left the partner detective behind and headed to the hospital with Detective Jin Do-gyeong.
As we passed through the lobby toward the Intensive Care Unit, the distinctive smell of disinfectant filled the air.
Someone was already waiting in front of the station.
A middle-aged doctor who was Jo Mi-so’s attending physician. His name badge read Professor Choi Jin-wook.
“Detective Jin, hello.”
Professor Choi Jin-wook greeted Detective Jin Do-gyeong.
Then he glanced around half-heartedly and asked.
“So… the Korean medicine specialist who requested the consultation—haven’t they arrived yet?”
His tone carried a faint irritation, as if bothered by the added burden.
His eyes flickered past me briefly before returning to Detective Jin Do-gyeong.
He clearly hadn’t considered that I was the consultant he was waiting for.
Detective Jin Do-gyeong spoke calmly.
“This is Director Go Yeon-hee.”
“…?”
The doctor blinked as he looked at me again.
I stepped forward and bowed.
“Hello. I’m Go Yeon-hee, a Korean medicine doctor.”
“…Ah, yes. You’re younger than I expected.”
A glimmer of condescension crossed his gaze.
It was the sort of expression that didn’t bother hiding a “you?” sentiment.
Detective Jin Do-gyeong’s brow furrowed slightly, but I didn’t react.
Working as a Korean medicine doctor, it wasn’t uncommon to receive such looks because of my age and gender.
‘It’s all right, though.’
Once he saw me treat a patient, his attitude would eventually change.
Many initially skeptical patients became regular ones after all.
“Anyway, let me give you a brief rundown.”
The doctor cleared his throat slightly and spoke.
“Patient Jo Mi-so suffered severe head trauma a few days ago, which resulted in traumatic brain hemorrhage.”
His explanation from that point was somewhat clinical.
I listened quietly, then interjected with questions.
“Is the hemorrhage location in the temporal lobe, or the frontal region?”
“How much was the elevation in intracranial pressure?”
“Was there a period where consciousness was maintained after the first impact?”
The doctor’s eyes widened slightly as he looked at me again.
“Your questions are quite sophisticated. Are you a specialist with hospital training?”
“No. I’m a general practitioner.”
He regarded me with a mixture of surprise and interest in his eyes.
Then he cleared his throat and shifted his demeanor.
“In that case, allow me to explain in more detail.”
This time he moved to the computer and pointed at the monitor as he continued.
“Based on the trauma evidence, it appears that after the first impact, consciousness remained, and then a second, more severe blow was delivered. That second impact was decisive.”
“I see.”
“We stabilized the hemorrhage through emergency surgery, and she’s currently maintaining spontaneous respiration without ventilator support. However, there’s a risk of cerebral edema, so we’re keeping close watch.”
My hands clenched involuntarily.
All the blood seemed to drain from my chest, leaving it cold.
Hit again while still conscious… How terrifying that must have been. How much it must have hurt.
Just imagining it made breathing difficult.
“What’s your prognosis?”
My voice had grown quieter.
The doctor scratched his head for a moment, then exhaled a long sigh.
He chose his words carefully.
“To be honest, I can’t guarantee when—or if—she’ll regain consciousness. In the worst case, there’s a possibility she may never wake up. At her current condition, I’d estimate a 40% chance of death within the next two to three weeks.”
“…!”
Death in such a short span of time.
Though I’d braced myself somewhat, hearing it spoken aloud felt far more brutal.
The air grew heavy in an instant.
The doctor gave a brief bow.
“That concludes the briefing.”
“…Thank you.”
He left, as if there was nothing more to say.
We remained standing in silence for a moment before collecting ourselves.
“Shall we go to the room?”
I followed Detective Jin Do-gyeong’s lead, walking quietly.

* * *
A moment later.
The instant I opened the ICU Private Room door and stepped inside, my chest dropped.
‘Oh…’
Jo Mi-so lying on the bed looked nothing like the person I knew.
Eyes shut tight, face pale, lips drained of all color.
One side of her head was shorn short from surgery, a dressing stuck in place.
Thin arms dangled with various tubes and lines.
Beep, beep—
My stomach churned with each regular pulse of the machine.
Someone who’d been having casual conversations with me, now lying here without consciousness…
Suddenly, a memory from high school surfaced.
Following a police escort down a cold hallway to identify my mother’s body when she went missing.
‘…’
My vision blurred for a moment.
I gritted my teeth.
No. Jo Mi-so is different from my mother.
She’s still alive, still breathing right now.
‘I need to focus. Before more time slips away.’
A middle-aged caregiver was present in the room.
This room, unlike a regular Intensive Care Unit, was a specially arranged isolated single-occupancy critical care room at the request of the Baek Ho Group.
Ordinarily, no one but medical staff could enter this zone.
But after consulting with the hospital, they’d allowed one dedicated caregiver to remain on-site.
“But… are there no family members here?”
Detective Jin Do-gyeong answered in a quiet voice.
“Jo Mi-so is registered as living alone. No family relations have been found. She was raised in an orphanage.”
“I see…”
“After hearing the circumstances, the Baek Ho Group requested the hospital assign this caregiver. They’ve also committed to covering all medical expenses.”
My chest tightened.
I nodded, my heart heavy with sympathy.
Jo Mi-so was a regular at our clinic, but I’d never known such deep personal details.
The caregiver spoke gently.
“Oh my… she’s so young. It’s such a shame. Not a single visitor has come to see her since she’s been lying here.”
A wave of sorrow rose from deep within my chest.
I pressed my lips together and pulled my hair back tightly.
It was a small ritual of my own, something I did whenever I needed to focus.
“I’ll examine the patient now.”
First, I observed her complexion and checked her pulse.
It was thin, deep, and weak.
‘A thin pulse… Her vital energy has sunk deep within, and her essence has become depleted.’
I asked the caregiver a few questions.
“Does she show any response to painful stimuli?”
“Yes, she flinches slightly when pinched.”
“What about loud sounds?”
“Not yet…”
There are clinical criteria for assessing consciousness.
Based on the degree of response to stimuli, states are classified as somnolence, delirium, coma, and so on.
Coma is the deepest of these states.
‘Jo Mi-so is clearly in a coma—responding only to painful stimuli and unable to open her eyes on her own.’
As I finished the examination, my Spirit Vision naturally opened.
Since Jo Mi-so was human rather than a divine being, I saw white vital energy instead of golden spiritual energy.
But—
The flow was distinctly blocked in the region of her brain.
Detective Jin Do-gyeong asked, holding his breath.
“Director Go, how is she?”
“The condition is quite serious. Right now, with her unconscious, it’s difficult for her to take herbal medicine.”
I spoke honestly.
“We could administer herbal medicine through a nasogastric tube, but for now, I think it’s best to start with acupuncture treatment—something without burden—and then assess further treatment based on her response.”
In Korean medical terms, coma is a state where spiritual energy—the essence of mind and life itself—is critically damaged.
It resembles a kind of obstruction syndrome.
Rather than treatment centered on the Seven Stroke Points used in stroke cases,
what matters is awakening consciousness and reopening the pathways of vital energy circulation that have been sealed.
‘So the meridian points I need are here.’
I steadied my breathing and retrieved my needles.
Baihui, Renzhong, Neiguan.
Points that stimulate consciousness and draw vital energy upward.
‘Please, let there be some response.’
With earnest intent, I infused my spiritual energy into each needle as I placed them.
Working with such careful devotion,
the moment I placed the final needle.
‘Oh!’
My vision suddenly cut to black.
I swallowed a gasp.
My sight went dark, and a strange sensation of the entire room flipping upside down washed over me.
‘This is…!’
I knew this sensation.
It was the phenomenon that appeared when reading a patient’s past memories.

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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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