I Became the Oriental Doctor for Divine Beasts - Chapter 75

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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 physician for the Divine Beasts
#75
A strange Premonition Dream?
At Yang Si-heon’s words, I froze mid-needle, hand suspended in the air.
“Excuse me? What kind of dream?”
“I was appearing on a variety show, Doctor.”
“……Is that such a strange dream?”
Come on, really?
The tension that had gripped me dissolved into laughter.
But Si-heon didn’t laugh.
“It is strange, actually. Because until now, I’ve turned down every variety show offer that’s come my way.”
“Is that so?”
“Why I would suddenly make such a decision…I haven’t the faintest idea yet.”
He lay on the treatment bed, gazing at the ceiling, his brow furrowed slightly.
Only then did I tilt my head in thought.
That would certainly be unusual, now that he mentioned it.
“Which variety show was it?”
“It was , a medical-related show.”
“Oh, really?”
My eyes widened.
Wasn’t that the program Jeong Ra-bit had turned down?
To hear that name again, one after another.
‘Could this be a coincidence?’
……No, it couldn’t be.
“Let me start with the acupuncture, then.”
I withdrew a needle, struck by an odd sensation.
I had the distinct premonition that something was about to happen involving that program.
* * *
Meanwhile, inside the director’s office at Oroji Han Medicine Clinic.
Oroji bit her lip anxiously as she scrolled through her tablet screen.
Reviews of Baek Myodang Han Medicine Clinic.
Social media posts and community threads.
And most importantly—recent information about Baek Myodang that a nurse had secretly gathered and reported back.
“What is this? The medical equipment is nothing special—just old models. The treatment programs and discount promotions are ordinary…and during weight-loss consultations, they actually turn patients away?”
Oroji, dissecting each piece of information about Baek Myodang with burning intensity, arrived at a conclusion.
“So Baek Myodang just relies on publicity after all.”
According to the nurse, the waiting room had certificates of appreciation and appointment letters hanging on the walls. She hadn’t managed to photograph them, worried it might look suspicious.
Oroji dismissed the report without much concern.
‘All hospitals do that these days anyway. They hang up fancy association or organization names and display plaques to look impressive.’
Spend a little money and you can manufacture all of that.
What mattered far more than such plaques was buzz—virality.
Of course, she granted that Go Yeon-hee had some skill.
‘But when you really think about it, she just got lucky when a celebrity attached themselves to her, and that’s what made her big!’
That fact burned in Oroji’s chest.
It felt as though a position that should have been hers from the start had been stolen.
She exhaled sharply and folded her arms.
‘Hmph! Who says I can’t do publicity?’
Go Yeon-hee—I originally had no intention of going to these lengths.
But you threw down the gauntlet first.
Why else would you be so smug just because you caught a few celebrities?
‘Fine. Then I’ll build my own platform properly.’
This was absolutely not some petty method leveraging her father’s influence.
It was purely a proportionate response to someone who’d struck first.
Her eyes grew cold and calculating.
Becoming a hot topic on internet forums?
‘That’s beneath me.’
She planned to scale it up on television itself.
And she had a way.
Her father, O Hui, had considerable experience appearing on broadcasts.
He’d served as a panelist on medical programs before and often received requests for health-related interviews.
Thanks to that, he had connections at various broadcasting stations.
“Ufufu.”line>
The corner of Oroji’s mouth lifted slightly.

‘I just need one proper broadcast appearance.’
She was confident in her looks, her skills, her appeal.
Once the opportunity came, her recognition would snowball all on its own.
And when that happened—
she could crush Go Yeon-hee’s fame with fame of her own, and the game would be over.
“And when that day comes, shabby clinics like Baek Myodang won’t even be in my league.”
She laughed aloud to herself.
Fortunately, the clinic’s revenue had been climbing recently.
It was because Oroji had been pushing the weight-loss program very aggressively.
Using strong medicine to show fast results, and steeply discounting multi-month payment plans.
To be honest, she knew.
She knew that Korean Herbal Medicine shouldn’t be prescribed so casually.
The Right Path was to examine constitution, lifestyle, and physical condition thoroughly, then customize the prescription.
But.
‘Realistically, how can I do all of that?’
Oroji thought coldly.
Consultation hours were limited, and competition in the weight-loss market was insane.
It wasn’t just clinics competing against each other.
Western medicine flooded the market with ads—liposuction, injections, whatever—and
gyms, personal trainers, meal-prep services, even general shopping malls with health foods were all rushing into the weight-loss market.
A veritable bloodbath of competition.
In that environment, the price of weight-loss herbal medicine kept dropping, and when revenue was the concern, efficiency couldn’t be overlooked.
‘Honestly, spending time carefully consulting with each weight-loss patient is far too inefficient.’
That’s what she thought.
Spend tens of minutes counseling one patient for that pittance?
The profit margins didn’t work.
And the patients wanted to lose weight fast anyway—so helping them shed it quickly with stronger medicine was a win-win, wasn’t it?
Oroji felt no great guilt about the approach.
She thought it was rational.
‘Patient gets what they want, I get what I want. So it works out, right?’
Her red lips curved upward.
Once a broadcast appearance finally broke through, it would be the icing on the cake.
Already, happy fantasies bloomed like clouds.
Hanging a screenshot of her broadcast appearance on the clinic wall.
Plastering “TV-Featured Celebrity Physician” across her blog homepage.
Patients flooding in, appointments booked months ahead.
“I’ve thrown my hat in at several places, so calls should come soon, right? Oh my, which program should I appear on? This one’s good. That one’s good too…”
She reclined in her chair and scrolled through several medical programs on her phone.
Then her hand stopped on one program title.
.
A health variety show that had once been wildly popular.
It wasn’t as hot as before, but the recognition was still decent.
Oroji’s eyes sparkled.
“Oh wow. would really be perfect.”
Her fantasies began running wild.
If she went on as a guest and the response exploded, the broadcasting station might even offer her a fixed panelist spot.
Oh my, oh my! And what if she struck up a spark with a handsome celebrity guest?
Go Yeon-hee would be completely buried, and she’d become a celebrity physician.
“Ahahaha!”
Oroji sat alone, lost in pleasant fantasies, and smiled contentedly to herself.
* * *
For the first week or so after taking the weight-loss medicine, Yun Se-rin was quite satisfied.
Her weight dropped naturally without much effort.
When she looked in the mirror in the morning, her jawline seemed a bit sharper, and her tight pants had a little more give.
“Ooh.”
Yun Se-rin tilted her face in the mirror this way and that.
“It’s a strong medicine, and the results are showing.”
She felt good.
Weight loss always felt motivating when you could see the results.
Besides, just as Oroji had said, her appetite really had diminished.
Even during late nights at work—times when she’d normally crave snacks desperately—her appetite strangely didn’t kick in.
‘The results are better than I expected, actually.’
That’s what Yun Se-rin thought.
True, she felt a bit fatigued and her nerves had become sensitive.
But isn’t that how dieting always is? Losing weight was never easy.
She dismissed it without much thought.
The real problem appeared after several more days.
‘Why is this happening? I can’t sleep at night, even when I lie down.’
Her body was exhausted enough to collapse, yet her eyes stayed wide open.
Her heart raced without reason, and her hands trembled slightly.
Like she’d drunk far too much coffee.
“Sigh…”
Yun Se-rin tossed and turned in bed past three in the morning, and even when she finally fell asleep, she’d wake again almost immediately.
Her irritability grew worse as a result.
Small remarks annoyed her, and she couldn’t concentrate.
It was on one of those difficult days that it happened.
“Come on, everyone, pick up the pace. What are these viewership numbers?”
Inside the Broadcasting Station conference room.
On the wall screen, the recent viewership graph for was displayed.
The line plummeted downward, and main PD Kang Tae-wook sighed as he spoke.
“You all saw last week’s clip view counts? The reaction’s dead. If this keeps up, we’re really in trouble.”
The writers in the room all exchanged nervous glances.
“…….”
“…….”
Kang Tae-wook set down the remote and looked toward Yun Se-rin.
“Se-rin. Can’t you book any of the rising stars?”
He pressed her with an exasperated edge to his voice.
“Like Jeong Ra-bit from Lunaur, or Yang Si-heon. Just land someone of that caliber and the buzz shoots up, doesn’t it?”
As if booking huge guests were simple.
Se-rin managed to keep her smile fixed in place and opened her mouth.
“I’ve reached out to both of them, but they’re both considering their schedules, so…”
But inside, curses tumbled through her mind.
‘Ugh, I’m stuck in the middle getting beaten from all sides.’
The show format was simple.
Each week, they’d book a new star and show the celebrity’s daily life in a surveillance-camera style.
Then guest doctor panelists would watch the footage and address health issues, while MCs added reactions and questions to boost the mood.
At first, the response was good.
But the problem was that once the pattern repeated, viewers started getting bored.
“We need something fresh.”
Kang Tae-wook tossed the script binder onto the desk.
Anxiety was written plainly across his blank face.
The writers cautiously began to offer opinions.
“Booking celebrity guests is important, but what if we changed things up on the doctor panelist side instead?”
“We do use guest panelists pretty often alongside our regular ones.”
Kang Tae-wook scratched his head with the end of his pen and asked listlessly.
“Doctor panelists? Who? Is there anyone decent lately?”
At that, Yun Se-rin’s mind froze.
For some reason, the first person who came to mind wasn’t Oroji—it was Go Yeon-hee.

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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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