Penicillin, the antibiotic derived from blue mold, had been created with remarkable ease. Although it wasn’t without its challenges, Jin Cheon-hee had managed to solve the problem before the season ended.
Now, the result was right in front of him. It actually worked. Jin Cheon-hee clicked his tongue, gazing at the liquid in the glass bottle.
I had been preparing myself for this to take at least twice as long…
For the past month, Jin Cheon-hee had dedicated himself to work from the moment he woke up. He had been training, conducting research, and developing the penicillin simultaneously. He had been commanding the Medical Pavilion members assigned to him by his Master and giving orders to Yoo Ho.
He extracted a sample, recorded the results, and tried again.
When you have the money, the time, and the method, there’s no reason it can’t be done. Yoo Ho had cursed him out, saying that “even a mindless zombie wouldn’t work this hard.” After all, if Jin Cheon-hee was being pushed to his limits, it meant Yoo Ho was being pushed right alongside him.
They were a labor community forged by his Master. There was no camaraderie between them; instead, there was mutual hatred. However, when it came to work, they were surprisingly in sync.
Yoo Ho can work more. He doesn’t know it, but he can definitely do more!
Jin Cheon-hee clenched his fists, pondering how he could wring even more labor out of the man.
There was exactly one reason Jin Cheon-hee could endure this hellish hamster wheel: the Five-Elemental True Qi. And if he had to find another, it was, quite simply, his youth.
‘My brain just doesn’t get tired. My memory’s improved, and my sleep is more efficient. I never knew my internal energy cultivation would improve this much just from living a bit more intensely than during my training days.’
The boy’s face twisted into the smug smile of a middle-aged old man.
‘Ah, being young is the best. Recovery is fast, my head is clear, and I can see everything without glasses. Even the neuralgia that plagued me every morning is gone.’
He’d realized it during surgery: the senses in his fingertips had become even more sensitive than before. The short arms and legs were a drawback, but keen senses and rapid recovery were assets that all the gold in the world couldn’t buy.
Shaking the glass bottle, Jin Cheon-hee grinned.
‘They say if you become a master of internal energy, your aging slows down. And if fortune smiles on you and you achieve Reversion to Youth, you can even become young again.’
The prime example was his Master, wasn’t it? Jin Cheon-hee didn’t know his Master’s exact age, but he knew he wasn’t far off from the Escort Head of Cloud-Dragon Escort Agency. By age, he should be middle-aged or even older.
The Five-Elemental Divine Art alone balanced the body’s vitality and harmony just by practicing it. It was more for life-nurturing than for combat. Its only drawback was its difficulty, but for a physician, there was no better internal art. Thanks to it, his Master had the taut face of a man in his twenties. His body, too, had forgotten its age. The illness was the only problem; otherwise, his Master would live almost agelessly until his death.
His Master’s beauty further motivated Jin Cheon-hee.
‘I’ll have that taut face too! Joints that move smoothly! Eyeballs that don’t see floaters in the sunlight!’
That was right. Jin Cheon-hee’s desperation was on a different level from the goals of other clan children his age. Normally, boys his age dreamed of becoming martial arts masters and conquering the world. But that dream was as distant as it was blue. In contrast, Jin Cheon-hee, having already experienced old age, chased the practical benefits right in front of him.
This self-imposed, hellish lifestyle had pushed Jin Cheon-hee to grow another step. His operation of internal energy had become what one could only call perfect, and his achievement in the Five-Elemental Cultivation Art had reached a staggering eighth level.
As it turns out, a practical goal in front of you is a far greater motivator than a distant dream. Even Jin Cheon-hee himself was shocked by the achievement.
‘Master said that by repeating a cycle of extreme fatigue and rapid recovery, my body is becoming closer to a natural state… In other words, this insane grind is actually training my body?’
Yoo Ho had clicked his tongue, calling him a “relentless bastard.” He’d said that if Jin Cheon-hee had been practicing any other martial art, his body would have been broken, but he was lucky the Zhuge Clan arts specialized in “life-nurturing.” In any case, it was a good thing.
‘Being able to learn the Five-Elemental Divine Art and the Profound Primordial Complete Foundation Divine Art was a god-tier move. He said I could start learning them from the sixth level of the Five-Elemental Cultivation Art, and I’m already at the eighth, right?’
The Five-Elemental Divine Art, a superior art to the Five-Elemental Cultivation Art, was one of the most renowned divine arts in the heavens. However, its notoriously challenging nature made it nearly impossible for anyone to master. This secret art, practiced exclusively by a select few even within the Zhuge Clan, was said to grant the practitioner control over the very Qi of nature by wielding the Five-Elemental True Qi.
Interestingly, wasn’t his master, Zhuge Rin, a martial artist who had achieved the Transformation Realm by mastering this very Five-Elemental Divine Art?
Furthermore, the Profound Primordial Complete Foundation Divine Art was even more extraordinary. It was a secret divine art of the Zhuge Clan, but unlike the internal art that created Qi, it was a martial art that consumed and eliminated Qi!
One might wonder why anyone would learn such an art, but for the people of the Zhuge Clan, it was indispensable. This divine art consumed Qi to activate the brain and enhance its abilities, improving all cerebral functions, including memory, mental calculation, and cognition. It transformed a dullard into an average person, an average person into a talent, and a talent into a genius.
And if a genius learned it?
They would possess a mind capable of looking down upon the entire world.
Such was the power of the Zhuge Clan’s secret divine art.
Now, he could finally begin to learn the Profound Primordial Complete Foundation Divine Art in earnest. But that was a matter for later. For now, he had to test the completed penicillin.
“So, are you satisfied?” Yoo Ho’s sullen voice interjected from the side.
“Of course. It’s amazing. As expected of Yoo Ho. Our sl... I mean, our all-purpose nurse!”
“Weren’t you just about to call me a slave?”
“Hey, no way!”
“Hahaha, Young Master. Your liver has really swollen out of your belly lately.”
A wave of killing intent rolled off Yoo Ho. In the past, the fear would have frozen a part of his mind white. But the Jin Cheon-hee of today was different. He just carried on with his work, unfazed and smooth.
‘His guts have grown.’
He could see that it wasn’t just his internal energy; his nerve had grown as well.
‘Still just a thin neck, though.’
A neck he could snap any time he wished. If Zhuge Rin hadn’t been in the picture, he would have twisted it and killed him a hundred times over.
‘I really don’t like him.’
With that thought, Yoo Ho withdrew his killing intent.
“So, what in the world is this medicine, that it required such an elaborate setup? It looks just like the alchemy equipment from the West.”
“There’s alchemy in the West?” Jin Cheon-hee asked, perplexed.
Supreme Heavenly Demon was clearly a wuxia novel, and its world was an Eastern-style empire called the Hwa Empire. This empire was enormous, boasting a landmass far larger than the China of that era. And there was a region only ever mentioned in passing: the West. It was described as a place where the Colored-eyed people lived, but with almost no other details, it was impossible to know what kind of place it was.
“There is. Though almost no one in this Hwa Empire knows of it. It’s similar to Western Alchemy, but also completely different. Over there, it’s part of a secret knowledge they call magic and sorcery.” Yoo Ho eyed Jin Cheon-hee with suspicion. “You didn’t know there was alchemy in the West… and yet you built something so similar. I wonder why that is. I’m suuure the Master would find it curious as well.”
“Well, I’m more curious how you were able to ‘poof’ and make all this in a single day. And the Master won’t find it curious. Of course he won’t. Whose Master do you think he is?”
“Hrmm.” Their gazes clashed in mid-air.
“Fine. I will no longer doubt your skills, Young Mas…ter. If it makes the Master healthy, what wouldn’t I do? So, what’s next? And it would be nice if you’d explain just what this medicine is.”
“Didn’t you just call me ‘Young Bastard,’ Yoo Ho?”
“You must have misheard. It’s the same principle as me mishearing ‘slave.'”
“…”
Jin Cheon-hee decided not to think about it too deeply.
“Right. The Master’s health is what’s important. What else matters? As for this medicine…” Jin Cheon-hee looked at the bottle and smiled brightly. “By the standards of this era… let’s see. You could call it a… limited panacea.”
No better explanation for penicillin came to mind. Jin Cheon-hee continued, “And you asked what’s next? It’s simple, isn’t it? We have to test it.”
“On a person?”
“Yes. Though we have to start with animals first.”
“It would be fine to use it on a person immediately. Must you really go through that process? There will be many patients who volunteer.”
This world truly treats human lives like those of flies.
As Jin Cheon-hee hesitated, Yoo Ho pressed on. “There is always an overflow of patients. The vast majority either have no cure, no money, or neither. Not many people would refuse free treatment, you know?”
He had forgotten. This was a world where a neighborhood physician could try some unheard-of treatment on a patient and brazenly demand money, regardless of whether they recovered. There was no medical insurance, no system to protect patients. The most one could hope for was that the physicians of the Medical Pavilion were slightly more trustworthy.
“Still, let’s at least perform minimal verification first.”
If it was made properly, it would just be a question of if it worked, not if it would be harmful.
Yoo Ho stared at Jin Cheon-hee as if he couldn’t understand him at all, before finally saying, “You are soft, Young Master.”
“I can’t deny that. But you’ll follow my orders, won’t you?” He couldn’t defy the entire era, but he wanted to hold on to his principles as a modern person.
“And if I say I won’t?”
“I’ll tell the Master.”
“You might as well just order me.”
“Well, even if it’s just for show, it’s better than not doing it, right?” Jin Cheon-hee smirked, then assigned Yoo Ho his next task.
The very first thing he needed was statistics.
‘The line that separates past medicine from modern medicine is the existence of statistics.’
Doctors of the past would say, ‘This treatment will probably cure you.’
Modern doctors say, ‘With this treatment, the probability of a full recovery is 90%. There is an 8% chance of your condition remaining the same, and a 2% risk of side effects.’
It might not seem like a big difference, but when you peel it back, it creates a massive divergence. Modern medicine is the medicine of statistics. It is verified across countless patients, and its clinical efficacy is constantly checked. If Drug A has a 60% cure rate and Drug B has a 68% cure rate, the correct choice is obviously B.
Through this verification process, medicine evolves. It becomes safer. Real data, not simple hunches or personal experience, is used to save lives.
“When you’re done, gather people infected with syphilis.”
Staring at Jin Cheon-hee’s beaming smile, Yoo Ho spoke with the expression of one looking at a madman. “You are insane. No one can cure syphilis… Don’t tell me?”
“That’s right. If my calculations are correct, it should be possible. So please, gather them.”
“…” Yoo Ho’s narrow, slitted eyes widened, just slightly. “…Very well, Young Master. I will look forward to seeing your ability.”
With those words, Yoo Ho left the culture lab. Watching him go, Jin Cheon-hee muttered to himself, “Yoo Ho is so competent, but he’s just… so exhausting to deal with.”