Did madman’s herb contain an ingredient used as a truth serum?
The first time Jeong Hayoon ever used a motion sickness patch behind his ear was during his high school field trip to Jeju Island.
He possessed the miserable kind of constitution where he couldn’t even glance at his phone in a moving vehicle without spiraling into nauseous agony, leaving him with no other choice.
However, as is typical of overly excited high schoolers, the crucial instruction to remove the patch immediately upon arrival completely slipped his mind the moment he woke from his brief nap on the plane.
He spent the entire day wandering around with the medication still plastered behind his ear.
By the next morning, he was exhibiting severe delirium and ended up being rushed to the hospital.
After regaining his senses, he lay in his hospital bed, gloomily scouring the internet on his phone. He felt he at least deserved to know exactly why he had ended up in such a pathetic state, ruining his highly anticipated field trip in the process.
Right… so the active ingredient in that motion sickness patch is also used as a truth serum. And that led me to search for ‘crazy weed’… but I just can’t remember the exact name.
The idea of administering a truth serum to the psychologically cornered Baek Ho-cheol was a method entirely conceived by the modern ‘Cho Yoon’. He had merely followed a spontaneous train of thought before abruptly realizing its potential application.
A bitter taste flooded his mouth at the realization that he was actually utilizing a substance strictly banned in the modern world due to its blatant unethicality and the fundamental unreliability of the resulting testimonies.
A significant part of him felt a profound wave of guilt, wondering how he was any different from the men who actively inflicted physical torture. However, since he couldn’t formulate a more effective alternative, he couldn’t afford to stand there throwing a moral tantrum. Ultimately, it was Cho Yoon himself who made the definitive choice to walk the path his fragmented memories had illuminated.
Since I’ve been dropped into a world where the fundamental values and ethics are entirely divorced from modern society, accepting that certain things simply ‘cannot be helped’ is best for my own mental health and sanity. I shouldn’t overthink this. Who knows, a day might come when I’ll actually have to physically harm someone.
Having drawn his conclusion, Cho Yoon opened his mouth to impart a few warnings to the Tang Clan.
“I have demonstrated a method to force a confession utilizing Wolf’s Tongue Root, but you must never exploit this maliciously. Not only will I refuse to disclose how I suppressed its lethal toxicity, but more importantly, it is exceedingly difficult to extract truly reliable information through this method. Wolf’s Tongue Root ultimately clouds the mind and degrades cognitive discernment, meaning…”
Thud!
An ominous sound echoed from directly behind him.
Cho Yoon swallowed dryly, slowly turning his head around.
Sure enough, Tang Yeom-cho was plastered flat against the ground, aggressively bowing once more.
As if that wasn’t enough, the spectating elders, martial artists, and every disciple of the Tang Clan simultaneously rose from their seats, dropping to their knees and violently slamming their foreheads against the earth.
Cho Yoon’s heart, conditioned by a modern upbringing that demanded deep respect for one’s elders, began to palpitate wildly all over again.
What is wrong with you people! Why are you doing this again!
“We… can only weep tears of profound gratitude for the unimaginable grace you have bestowed upon the Tang Clan. We humbly… congratulate your overwhelming victory.”
“It is nothing. Rise.”
Stop doing this! I just won by slipping him a truth serum—what kind of ‘unimaginable grace’ is that!
In stark contrast to his internal urge to burst into tears, his spoken words remained frostily detached. Looking as though he might spontaneously sob if poked even slightly, Tang Yeom-cho clumsily scrambled to his feet before bowing deeply at the waist once more. The rest of the clan members mirrored his actions, rising in unison and standing reverently with their hands respectfully clasped.
Flashing a warm, emotional smile—acting exactly as if he fully comprehended Cho Yoon’s ‘true intentions’ (Cho Yoon desperately wished they would stop harboring these bizarre misunderstandings, but he was powerless to stop them)—Tang Yeom-cho spoke.
“As a token of our immense gratitude for revealing an entirely new horizon to those of us walking the path of poison and medicine, we wish to offer you recompense. Does the esteemed Immortal Healer perhaps desire anything from the Tang Clan? If it is a rare medicinal herb, we will procure it by any means necessary. If it is martial arts, we will uncover it. If it is a specific person, we will bring them to you.”
“I have no ne—”
Cho Yoon, immediately moving to reject the deeply burdensome gifts, abruptly paused mid-sentence. Wait. Won’t the kids eventually need to ask the Tang Clan for a favor once they grow up? Or maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to distribute this opportunity among them right now? Even if Cho Yoon chose to live a life of complete seclusion, his children could—and rightfully should—live lives that are entirely different from his own.
Right. I should pass this favor on to the kids.
Having made his decision, Cho Yoon prepared to speak.
“You must possess the results of your twenty years of research into unsolvable poisons.”
However, the words that spilled from his mouth were entirely divorced from what he had intended to say.
Tang Yeom-cho nodded deeply, as if he had already anticipated the request to some degree.
“Yes. Among them, there are indeed toxins we have completely sealed away, as their virulence proved far too overwhelmingly potent for even us to handle.”
“I shall take them. A small quantity will suffice.”
“Understood, esteemed Immortal Healer. However, there is one particular toxin so catastrophically potent it cannot safely be transported here. I believe you will have to grace the sealing chamber with your presence personally.”
“It does not matter.”
Amidst the flawlessly fluid exchange, Cho Yoon was the only one plunged into spiraling confusion.
He could somewhat understand his tone of voice automatically shifting. He could even brush off his intended messages subtly morphing into archaic speech as a bizarre consequence of the original body’s deeply ingrained personality.
But this was fundamentally different. This was the absolute first time words he hadn’t even considered had violently hijacked his vocal cords. Show me the poisons you researched? What kind of utterly absurd nonsense is that? I don’t care about poison in the slightest!
A profoundly different breed of terror instantly ambushed Cho Yoon.
If he couldn’t speak what he intended, and he couldn’t control his own actions, then he was effectively living as a helpless prisoner trapped inside another man’s body, only capable of generating internal thoughts. This horrifying realization was infinitely more terrifying than the prospect of never returning to his original world.
Just then, as if attempting to soothe the paralyzed Cho Yoon, a singular, cold streak of logic surfaced in his mind.
[The Tang Clan is, at its core, a collective of ruthless opportunists. Even if framed as ‘recompense,’ entangling oneself with them is highly unadvisable. This holds especially true for children who are only just reaching the age to accumulate real-world experience.]
Well… I suppose that’s true.
Yes, even for Cho Yoon, who was generally indifferent to human relationships, this was an organization he deeply disliked, save for perhaps one or two specific members. There was absolutely no reason to actively mediate a connection between them and his precious children.
While he found the sudden logic somewhat acceptable, a nagging question lingered: Doesn’t thought usually precede action? Just as he calmed down slightly and attempted to analyze the bizarre phenomenon deeper, Tang Yeom-cho’s voice cut through his thoughts.
“…will take roughly half a sijin. I shall prepare everything so you may depart immediately after partaking in the evening meal.”
“Understood.”
Following his terse reply, Tang Yeom-cho offered a respectful martial salute before rapidly directing the cleanup of the competition grounds. Baek Ho-cheol was unceremoniously hauled onto the back of a Tang Clan martial artist and whisked away, while the scattered straw mats and wooden chairs were swiftly cleared out.
Bearing a heavy, complicated heart, Cho Yoon turned his steps back toward his children.
Experiencing situations spiraling entirely out of his control had become alarmingly frequent lately, but today felt exceptionally severe. Fundamental, existential questions he hadn’t deeply pondered until now began sprouting in his mind, biting at each other’s tails in an endless loop.
Why was I brought here? Why, of all people, the body of the Immortal Healer Cho Yoon? Why exactly at this specific point in time? What is the ultimate purpose?
As Cho Yoon’s complexion grew increasingly shadowed, the delightful pitter-patter of small, urgent footsteps reached his ears. Lifting his head, he saw his three children scrambling down from the seats of honor, practically launching themselves toward him.
“Master! How did you do that?”
Sa-yeong, who had reached him first, stared up at him with sparkling eyes, her small face deeply flushed with excitement. If Sa-yeong and Sa-hyeon—who hadn’t formally studied pharmacology—found the display this fascinating, he could only imagine Cheon-oh’s reaction.
Glancing down, he felt a small hand tightly gripping the hem of his robe.
Without uttering a single word, Cheon-oh was clutching his clothes, staring intently up at him. It was a gaze that felt less like innocent curiosity and more like a heavy, demanding pressure. Drawing a short, steadying breath, Cho Yoon temporarily swept his anxieties aside and generously patted the children’s heads before speaking.
“Lying demands a surprisingly high level of cognitive capacity. This holds especially true for elaborately constructed lies. It operates on the exact same principle as to why the lies spun by a six- or seven-year-old child are of an unfathomably different quality than those told by a five-year-old.”
“Haha! Is that why you’re so terrible at lying?”
“S-Sister!”
“Sa-yeong, you must not tease your brother.”
Fortunately, Cho Yoon’s children never caused him grief by spinning malicious lies. Even if they had attempted to, Cho Yoon would have persistently corrected them, but given how remarkably quiet they had been regarding such matters, their innate natures seemed genuinely honest.
Taking the children by their hands, Cho Yoon continued his explanation as they followed the Tang Clan guide.
“When a person’s mind is subjected to prolonged exhaustion and excruciating agony, it becomes remarkably fragile. If you can marginally paralyze their cognitive functions during this vulnerable state, you can fundamentally block their ability to construct coherent lies. However, as I stated earlier, it is absolutely not a method you should favor. Since eight-tenths of whatever spills from their mouths will be pure gibberish, what possible value could there be in listening?”
“But didn’t Baek Ho-cheol answer quite obediently?”
“I carefully steered the situation so he only needed to provide the simplest of answers. I adopted the vulgar speech patterns he typically used to make it easier for him to empathize, and I exclusively asked questions that only required a ‘yes’, did I not?”
“So, extracting entirely new information from them would be incredibly difficult?”
“Correct.”
Sa-yeong nodded repeatedly, sinking deep into her own thoughts. Sensing that she was perhaps taking a little too much interest in the field of psychological interrogation, a sudden wave of apprehension washed over Cho Yoon. He quickly stroked her hair to divert her attention.
“The absolute best approach is to never create a situation where you need to resort to such methods in the first place.”
“You’re right, Master. Instead of forcefully prying their mouths open, making them voluntarily spill every last excruciating detail on their own is definitely the best way!”
Sa-yeong spoke with overflowing enthusiasm, her small fists clenched tightly in determination.
It sounded vastly different from the peaceful lesson Cho Yoon had intended to impart, but he ultimately decided to just let it slide for now.