Compared to them, what is this wretched body of mine? Even Wang Gak-yeon boasted a sturdier constitution than mine.

It was the cold, hard truth.

Jin Cheon-hee’s body was effectively running on a single fan cooler.

Imagine overclocking a solitary graphics card to its absolute breaking point, slapping on a dinky fan, and forcing it to mine crypto twenty-four hours a day. It had blown a fuse a few times doing exactly that, and the only reason it hadn’t completely fried was that the internal operating system was optimized to perfection, utilizing every last scrap of resources with surgical precision. That, and thanks to some serendipitous encounters, the power supply was top-tier.

If Wang Gak-yeon had at least two fans, then Gongsun Yeong was a high-end water-cooled rig. And Yeo Ha-ryoon…

That guy is one of those submerged oil-cooling systems trending in the crypto world these days. The kind where you pour mineral oil instead of golden olive oil—gurgle, gurgle—and run the entire motherboard submerged.

If managed well, it was a god-tier mining rig that even Intel would beg to import. But if mismanaged due to Qi Deviation, it became a genuine deep fryer that cooked potatoes instead of cooling anything.

Fortunately, I had calibrated Yeo Ha-ryoon properly.

Thanks to a “grudge-mitigation protocol”—making him think twice before killing—alongside martial arts consultation and excellent staffing, he was running smoothly. However, from an intellectual’s perspective, seeing such high-spec performance used to mine human lives instead of calculating weather patterns or Bitcoin was a bit tragic.

That was the Gangho, and that was the nature of the Demonic Cult.

It isn’t the time to worry about others. Ugh… my left arm… Damn it.

This body, already devoid of natural martial bones, had finally blown a capacitor. Even after undergoing the Bone-Transforming and Embryo-Seizing Metamorphosis, the hardware had improved significantly, but there were limits.

It seemed that a metamorphosis for a constitution like this couldn’t compare to the natural-born engines of children from martial families. That was why, after one significant growth spurt, his height hadn’t increased an inch further.

“That is not the fundamental problem, Hee-ya. If you had chosen opponents suited to your level and climbed the steps gradually like children from other martial families, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

Zhuge Rin chided him softly as he inserted a Golden Needle into Jin Cheon-hee’s throbbing left arm.

“Ugh-huk…!”

“Endure it. Consider it karma.”

Outside the window, thick snowflakes began to drift down, blanketing the world in white.

“Are you alright, Master?”

“Hmm, I am fine. Since your surgery, I have grown much as well. Just the reduced risk of sudden death has changed a person this much.”

“I… see.”

“In the past, I had no need to ponder the future. A man with a predetermined end only needs to remain faithful to the present. Back then, there was nothing to be responsible for. I died, and that was that. It was simple.”

His master murmured this as he selected the next needle.

“Kuh-eut!”

“But now… I am in a position where I must worry about the future. My goal has become ensuring you live with all your limbs intact.”

The disciple protects the world, and the master protects such a disciple. The silent promise made between the two remained valid, even in this quiet winter moment.

“So, listen.”

This time, Zhuge Rin picked up the longest needle in the kit. Seeing the cool Qi gathering at the tip, it looked incredibly, horrifyingly painful.

“Master… uh… perhaps… a bit gentler?”

“Do you wish for me to pierce you slowly, dragging it out for a long time? Savouring the pain would also be a valuable lesson.”

“…No. Please end it at once.”

Thuk!

“Kk… Aaa… @#!%#^@#!!!!!!”

A string of colorful Korean profanities erupted from Jin Cheon-hee’s mouth as he twisted like a snake on a hot rock. Zhuge Rin, seemingly enjoying his disciple’s vocabulary, spoke calmly.

“It has already been three months since you came to Hangzhou.”

“Yes, yes.”

It was undeniably winter now. The days were growing colder. Fortunately, the White Qilin Medical Pavilion Branch No. 2 was equipped with a flawless ondol system, keeping the interior toasty. Combining the Namgung Clan’s architectural prowess, excellent technicians, and Jin Cheon-hee’s modern knowledge, it made him wonder if he should redevelop the White Qilin Medical Pavilion headquarters to match these standards.

“Still, the White Qilin Medical Pavilion has firmly taken root in Hangzhou now,” Zhuge Rin observed.

“Yes. Besides the wandering vagrants, part of the White Qilin Squad is stationed here permanently. With logistics flowing smoothly on top of that, the entire city of Hangzhou has become more vibrant.”

His master stared at the needle embedded in his disciple’s wrist for a long moment. For such symptoms, observing how the needle tip moved after insertion was crucial.

“Smallpox is practically resolved at this point, too. People from the slums gained employment through the White Qilin Medical Pavilion’s businesses and found stability, naturally reducing the number of patients.”

“Yes. Soap is selling well, too!”

“Everything is going smoothly. To a frightening degree.”

Lost in thought, Zhuge Rin pulled the needle from Jin Cheon-hee’s wrist. The tip of the Golden Needle was stained a dark, ominous color.

“Normally, blood should seep out, yet toxic fluid oozes instead. What on earth has happened to this body?”

“I don’t know either.”

This time, his master picked up another needle and pricked his disciple’s right finger. Normally, a needle alone wouldn’t pierce the flesh of a martial artist; since the tip was rounded, it was meant to press pressure points, not penetrate. But infused with internal energy, it was a different story.

Sure enough, a drop of blood welled up. But only for a heartbeat; the crimson spot healed rapidly, vanishing as if it had never been there. Observing the recovery speed, Zhuge Rin asked a pointed question.

“Hee-ya, how long has it been since you last felt fatigue?”

“Umm…?”

Jin Cheon-hee counted on his fingers for a while, deep in thought, before answering.

“Come to think of it, that is strange. Master, since the battle with the Hao Sect, I haven’t really felt much fatigue.”

“Sleep time?”

“About… one sijin (2 hours)?”

“…Living like that usually makes one lose their mind, Hee-ya.”

Saying this, he took his disciple’s pulse for a long time, then spoke gravely.

“They say one achieves the Harmony of Heaven and Earth upon reaching the Profound Realm. Looking at you, the speed at which your internal energy refills is outstanding, but… it is strange.”

His master grabbed the back of his disciple’s neck instead of his wrist to check the pulse, then placed a hand on his danjeon to check again. After examining him for a while, he delivered his diagnosis.

“First, it is not the Harmony of Heaven and Earth. It is simply that the speed of absorbing internal energy has become incredibly fast. Probably because you gained a great realization through this martial art.”

“Ooh!”

“On the other hand, the reason your left arm keeps deteriorating is likely because your body physically cannot withstand receiving that much internal energy.”

“It doesn’t seem to have gotten much worse, though?”

“To express it metaphorically, it is like a rock weathering away in the rain. Of course, for a rock, the process takes hundreds or thousands of years, but you are accelerating that erosion within a human body.”

Jin Cheon-hee fell into thought.

“Have I become stronger?”

“If you call a cannon made of glass ‘strong’, then I suppose so.”

“…So I shouldn’t use power beyond my realm recklessly.”

“Correct. If you covet power beyond your limits, merely using that power leaves a mark of martial arts on your body. However, Hee-ya. Think about why Essence, Energy, and Body must be balanced.”

“I know, Master. But…”

“…Right. If you hadn’t drawn upon that power, you would have surely died.”

Zhuge Rin lowered his eyes, lost in thought.

“You think lowly of yourself, but there is no talent like you in the Gangho, Hee-ya. In terms of growth speed alone, you are unprecedented.”

“…”

“However, that is growth achieved by mortgaging the future to survive the present, Hee-ya. In botanical terms, you are growing ‘leggily’.”

In his past life, Jin Cheon-hee had seen a succulent grow like that—etiolated, stretching desperately for light. Becoming ugly from overgrowing was one thing. But growing too tall, too fast, could make the pot tip over, and sometimes, the plant couldn’t support its own weight and snapped. Of course, sometimes they grew up healthy even while leggy… The problem was, Jin Cheon-hee wasn’t a succulent; he was a human.

“I suppose I should live as a pacifist for a while.”

“Yes. You finally understand.”

“It’ll be good for treating patients.”

“And force yourself to sleep at least two sijin.”

“Yes.”

Zhuge Rin sighed, signaling the end of the medical lecture.

“Anyway… since things have stabilized here, we should appoint a Branch Leader and return. Don’t you need to hurry back and create the next new medicine you love so much?”

So that was the main point.

Well, he was right. Now that he had done everything he could, only the return journey remained.

At home, Mu Wol waited like a loyal bear, and bacterial cultures multiplied like rabbits. And then there was the forearm tissue extracted from the Heavenly Lord Dong… surviving tenaciously even in a lab where tardigrades might drop dead.

It grew rapidly, even when the inexperienced Junior Physician took care of it. A similar example on Earth was HeLa cells. These HeLa cells were named after a donor named Henrietta Lacks. Of course, since it was in the past, there was no permission or consent from the deceased; it was a forced donation. By modern standards, it was an act that would book a ticket to hell via lawsuit, but back then, such laws didn’t exist.

Anyway, HeLa cells were classified as cancer cells, but they never died, even after hundreds of replications. Normal cells would start to falter after a few divisions, and even cancer cells would eventually die if forced to divide continuously. But HeLa cells didn’t follow that rule.

Can we affirm the result when the process was unjust?

Jin Cheon-hee wasn’t a philosopher. However, he knew this dilemma would shadow humanity for as long as we lived. Regardless, HeLa cells helped create the polio vaccine and contributed to radiation research and cancer treatment as experimental subjects.

Similarly, he planned to use the Heavenly Lord Dong’s cells to leave a significant mark on human history. Unlike Earth, this guy ate human flesh and killed thousands as sacrifices. So, in the Medical Pavilion lab, they simply called it ‘The Cell’. Meaning they hadn’t decided on a name. He had suggested just comfortably calling it [Heavenly Dong Cell], but everyone was horrified.

When Master cut off the Heavenly Lord Dong’s arm and threw it to me as a sample, he probably didn’t know I’d use it like this. But, Master. Listen to me. Considering the mountains of corpses the Blood Immortal Cult has piled up, surely using this arm for the greater good was… acceptable?

Leaving behind the nostalgic thought of the ‘Heavenly Dong Cell’, there was just one thing left to do in Hangzhou.

“Uh… Master, there is one thing I want to try before going back.”

“What is it?”

“Skin procedures.”

“Hmm?”

One of the cruel characteristics of smallpox was that even if one survived, pockmarks remained on the body, scarring the victim for life. They had to live their whole lives as second-class citizens, shunned and stoned by the ignorant. Ultimately, contracting the disease meant one of two things: dying from the fever, or surviving only to suffer a social death because of the scars.

Right now, wouldn’t it be possible to restore it to some extent?

His master spoke.

“There is a mnemonic chant to erase scars, but to make that possible, one would have to be a martial artist.”

“Yes. That’s why I want to see if I can perform the procedure in a different way.”

“Will that be possible?”