Rustle—

“What, another small-fry here for the thousand-tael bounty?”

Jin Cheon-hee clenched his fists, readying himself.

“Hee-ya. Hahaha, and where did you think you were going, deceiving your Master?”

He spun around. Zhuge Rin was standing there, a chilling smile on his face. His complexion was even worse than the last time Jin Cheon-hee had seen him, but the aura he projected was still terrifying. Behind him, looking as if he’d wasted away to half his original size, stood Yoo Ho, drenched in a cold sweat.

Yoo Ho, that bastard…?!

In that instant, Zhuge Rin’s hand shot out and seized Jin Cheon-hee’s ear.

“Euaaak! Master!”

“My disciple, who was supposed to be in closed-door training… why is he outside?”

“That’s not it! Master!”

“Hahaha, yes. Your internal energy has grown, and your body has become quite strong. Shall we go inside for a nice, long chat?”

With a vicious twist, Zhuge Rin began to drag him. Jin Cheon-hee finally understood just how terrifying his Master’s level truly was. He was caught by the ear, and no matter how much he struggled, he couldn’t break free.

How?! His illness has clearly gotten worse, so where is all this strength coming from?

Woof!

Hwang-gu, on the other hand, seemed overjoyed, apparently realizing he wouldn’t have to wait outside. He trotted happily behind the captured Jin Cheon-hee, his tail wagging furiously.

***

For the next shichen, Jin Cheon-hee endured a lifetime’s worth of scolding. When Zhuge Rin finally finished, he let out a long sigh.

“I have already gathered the basic information. However, I wish to hear it from your own mouth.”

Jin Cheon-hee swallowed hard. At his feet, Hwang-gu was lying blissfully on his back, belly up, panting happily. He looked utterly content, perhaps because he’d been given a piece of candy. And it wasn’t just any candy; it was a White Qilin Divine Physician’s candy, fortified with medicinal herbs, which only made Hwang-gu even happier.

He just knows what’s good for him…

Jin Cheon-hee absently scratched the dog’s belly and began his story. “As you’ve probably guessed, I left because I needed the inner core of a Ten Thousands Years Fire Carp.”

He retrieved it from his satchel. To be precise, it was encased in a thick layer of mud, resembling a giant dumpling, but the intense heat radiating from its surface and the powerful energy it exuded left no room to doubt its authenticity.

“And how did you know it was there?” Zhuge Rin’s question was a sharp thrust, striking directly at the heart of the matter.

Jin Cheon-hee flinched inwardly but kept his expression calm. “The truth is… I know the locations of at least five spiritual beasts and seven spiritual herbs.”

This game was already over. There was no point in lying; it wouldn’t be believed for a second. Jin Cheon-hee added one more thing.

“But I cannot tell you how I know.”

“…”

A line creased between Zhuge Rin’s brows. He pressed his fingers to his temples. “Yes. I made a promise when I took you as my disciple that I would not ask such things.”

That had been their contract. Zhuge Rin spoke again. “But I am curious about this. Catching a Ten Thousands Years Fire Carp… with your current skills, that should have been impossible. Will you continue to risk your life chasing these other spiritual beasts?”

“If it is to save you, Master, I will do anything.”

“Hee-ya. I do not have such a lingering attachment to this world. There is nothing more precious to me than the life of my own disciple.”

“I know.”

“…”

Jin Cheon-hee’s gaze was resolute. Zhuge Rin stared at him for a long moment, then, finally, dismissed him. Jin Cheon-hee bowed deeply before turning and leaving the room. Zhuge Rin watched him go, his eyes lingering on the empty doorway as he sipped his tea.

“You look troubled, Master,” Yoo Ho observed quietly.

“That irreverent disciple is a headache.”

“And yet, you seem pleased.”

“Indeed.” Zhuge Rin felt a small, faint smile touch his lips. “Where else could I find a student so utterly devoted? It’s a strange feeling. I am furious that he did something so dangerous, yet I feel a master’s joy that he returned even stronger… I think I finally understand why all those old masters in the Murim go mad over a single disciple.”

Zhuge Rin sipped the bitter tea, murmuring, “It’s a truly bizarre sensation. To feel anger, worry, and pride all at the same time… Is this what they call the bond between master and disciple?”

He was lost in thought.

***

In the world of the Murim, elixirs and inner cores were unique substances. They could be liquid, they could be solid, and they held the properties of qi itself. It was no exaggeration to call them the heart of all martial arts fantasy, a mystery that modern science could never unravel.

Jin Cheon-hee had used such elixirs to create sutures before, but this time, his goal was to create a kind of textile—a graft to be placed inside the heart.

He took a chisel and began to break away the hardened mud caked around the core.

KANG!

It sounded like shattering pottery. The heat sealed within must have been immense. Sure enough, the core of the Ten Thousands Years Fire Carp was revealed, billowing steam. It was massive, just like the creature itself.

“Hoo… Focus.”

Using the Gold Qi of the Five-Elemental Cultivation Art, Jin Cheon-hee began to pull the core, drawing it out into long, thin threads. It was an operation that required absolute concentration; one mistake, and the Fire Qi infused in the core could dissipate into the air.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Yoo Ho asked from his side. The possibility of his lord being saved seemed to have put him in a good mood.

“Once I pull all this into Gold Thread, I need you to assemble it according to the design.”

“This… is really going inside a body?”

“Yes. Surprising, isn’t it?”

What was fascinating was that items made from elixirs and inner cores did not cause an immune rejection response when inserted into the human body. People might die from Qi Deviation by absorbing more internal energy than they could handle, but no one ever died from what modern medicine would call an ‘immune response’. It was bizarre.

In a way, it’s similar to the Blood Gu…

That was the second thing Jin Cheon-hee found baffling: the Blood Gu. It was undeniably a parasite, yet it absorbed the host’s internal energy and assimilated itself into their body without any medical rejection. It never caused Qi Deviation during qi circulation, either. You could die if you failed to feed it on time and it burst inside you, but that was different.

And the third thing is Metamorphosis.

He had experienced it himself, but he still didn’t understand the principle. A body could be completely reassembled? And it could make you younger, or stronger?

Just as my old world had science, I suppose this world has Qi. He prided himself on having adapted well to the Murim, but some things were still hard to grasp.

Yoo Ho, watching him work, remarked, “Your internal energy… it has become much purer. Your ability to sustain it is more profound as well.”

“I underwent Metamorphosis.”

At the blunt statement, Yoo Ho’s eyes widened, then narrowed back to normal. “I had a feeling. It’s normal for one’s physical foundation to grow and the body to enlarge when training, but your change was… excessive.”

“I haven’t told my Master. I will, eventually.”

“He probably already knows. His anger seemed to vanish the moment he saw you.”

Jin Cheon-hee nodded. “He knew as soon as he laid eyes on me.”

“Your facial features didn’t change much, though.”

“Why? Fallen for me?”

“Hahaha… Please remove that repulsive face from my sight.”

“You only hate me now, Yoo Ho. Once I’m done with this, the rest is all your work.”

Jin Cheon-hee said no more and deepened his focus. To protect his hands from the sheer heat of the Ten Thousands Years Fire Carp core, he had to constantly circulate Water Qi through them.

Using Ice would be too risky; it could shatter the harmony…

He would finish this, even if his hands were somewhat burned. The smell of searing flesh began to fill the air.

“You’re a tough one, Young Master,” Yoo Ho noted.

“Oh? Finally fallen for my charm?”

“Haaa… And I can’t even kill you.”

Jin Cheon-hee chuckled, continuing to work as his own flesh burned. The instant his circulation of Water Qi faltered, a wave of agony washed over him, but his expression remained cold.

“I’m young. This will heal quickly. It’s fine if I’m in a little pain. My Master’s life is more important.”

“I’m asking you seriously. Why are you going this far? If my lord dies, all of this… it becomes yours.”

Tsssss—

A long thread of superheated Gold Thread stretched out. A long wound was seared across Jin Cheon-hee’s fingers.

“Well… If the surgery fails, you’ll come to kill me, right?”

“That is the established procedure. But is there nothing else?”

“Isn’t it obvious? For a disciple to risk his life to save the master who taught him martial arts.”

“I know you’re not the type to be bound by such conventions.”

“…”

Jin Cheon-hee fell silent, pondering the question. Why was he? What was the reason he was going to such lengths to save Zhuge Rin? After a long moment, he replied, “Because… if our positions were reversed, he would have done the exact same for me. Isn’t that the whole reason he took me as his disciple in the first place?”

“…That is correct.”

“Then that’s all that matters. Thinking about it any deeper just gives me a headache.”

Jin Cheon-hee continued to spin the Gold Thread. The smell of burning flesh was thick in the room.

“You know,” Jin Cheon-hee said, “this is actually good training. To maintain the Water Qi of the Five-Elemental Cultivation Art through all my meridians, I have to focus to my absolute limit. If I can finish this entire process without a single mistake… my gong-nyeok will deepen by another level.”

Yoo Ho just stared at him as if he were insane.

“What, Yoo Ho?”

“I just had a thought that I would very much like to pull your brain out of your skull.”

“Hahaha, you’re hilarious.”

“I may hate your face, Young Master, but I am truly fascinated by your brain.”

That bastard is completely serious.

Jin Cheon-hee just clicked his tongue and continued his work.

***

In the end, Jin Cheon-hee succeeded in the first-stage processing of the Ten Thousands Years Fire Carp core. He had overcome the most difficult part. The second and third-stage processing would be up to Yoo Ho and the other pavilion members.

In the meantime, Jin Cheon-hee trained with the pavilion members, sharing the overview and procedural steps for the Thoracic Endovascular Aortic Repair (TEVAR).

Back home, I’d have residents and other specialists to do this with… But here, he was alone.

If he failed, his Master would die. And Yoo Ho would come to kill him. He knew, without a shred of doubt, that there would be no mercy in it. Yoo Ho would probably just debate whether to slit his throat or snap his neck.

I have to succeed. I absolutely must succeed.

The preparations took one week. All too soon, the day of the surgery arrived.

***

In the early morning, Jin Cheon-hee sat cross-legged, deep in meditation. He wasn’t circulating his qi. He was just running the surgical simulation in his mind, over and over, dozens, then hundreds of times.

It reminded him of his residency. He had been the same then: terrified of failure, terrified to trust himself. With no family, the hospital was his only home.

There were never any second chances.

It was like walking on glass. If it broke, he had no idea what he would do next. It was a life lived with a constant hole in his chest. He had tried to fill that void with work, with a desperate, all-consuming need to be needed.

It was, in a way, a child’s desperate wish.

He was feeling that same, desperate emotion once again.