Chương 27: Once Again at the Edge of Life and Death

The wound was too large to treat properly. The physician stitched it with sterilized thread. He sprinkled hemostatic powder to stop the bleeding. When the blood finally slowed, he poured a thick layer of Golden Wound Powder over the cut and wrapped Yeong-woo's waist tightly with bandages. What astonished him was Yeong-woo himself. The man watched the entire process without even blinking.

"Doesn't it hurt?"

"It hurts."

"Then why don't you shout?"

"I was taught never to say something hurts."

"They said it wasn't manly."

"…Hah." The physician sighed. When the bandaging was finished, Yeong-woo tried to stand.

"You must not move."

"If I stay away again like this, I'll be dismissed." The physician clicked his tongue.

"You'd be better off leaving that life and starting anew."

"I hear many things. Everyone says those men are cruel." It was meant as comfort. But it gave Yeong-woo none. Those words should have come from Yi Hee-song himself. Yet the ones who had done wrong never apologized. Nor offered comfort. That was how the world worked. Arrogance covered everything. While being treated, Yeong-woo asked one of the female attendants to call the So brothers, Cheol-ryong and Cheol-un. They arrived in less than half a quarter hour.

Apparently they had already been searching everywhere, sensing something had happened. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. Cheol-ryong shouted the moment he entered.

"What happened now?" Yeong-woo sighed.

"Ah… I got beaten up again."

"Those bastards again?"

"Again?"

"Just give the order."

"We'll go in heavy armor and wipe them out." Yeong-woo shook his head.

"No."

"If we do that, we'll end up in prison again."

"They were hurt worse than I was."

"So it's not worth it."

"Was it fifteen against one again?"

"Something like that."

"How?"

"I told them we should settle it with swords." The rest of the story was simple. According to Yeong-woo— none of it was his fault. Everything had been their wrongdoing. If four of them happened to be stabbed, that was their responsibility, not his. He spoke loudly and shamelessly. The brothers burst into laughter. Their noisy voices filled the physician's house. Then two men were carried in. Their wounds were too severe for the army medics. Or perhaps they simply wanted better treatment and were willing to pay.

Enemies meet on narrow bridges. With their wounds bandaged, the two sides found themselves face to face. Yeong-woo spoke first.

"Well look at that."

"Why didn't you just die?"

"Why come to the clinic?" One of them glared. It was the 9th Unit leader. Yeong-woo struggled to remember his name. The man had never been very noticeable.

"I was stabbed in the side."

"While beating you idiots."

"I don't even remember which one of you cut me." The man sneered.

"Yeah, you struggled pretty hard." Yeong-woo spun his belt ring. The Hwando dropped forward with a metallic sound.

"So."

"Shall we finish it?" He grabbed the sword to draw it. The man quickly changed his tone.

"Hey now, that's not what I meant."

"We can't fight again right now."

"We need treatment first." Yeong-woo replied coldly.

"At the very least…"

"You should show some respect."

"Then I might stay quiet." But in truth, Yeong-woo was barely holding himself together. The freshly stitched wound felt like it might tear open. Something in the medicine made his mind hazy. His thoughts drifted. Fortunately Cheol-un rushed forward.

"Stop this nonsense."

"You need rest."

"Yeah, let's rest."

"That bastard keeps running his mouth."

"This isn't some street gang hideout." The rest of his words never reached Yeong-woo. He collapsed. Slowly. As if the strength simply drained from his body. Something felt wrong. He should have been improving after treatment. Instead he grew weaker. His mouth dried. The tip of his tongue tingled. His fingers turned cold. Cheol-un caught him before he hit the floor. He carried Yeong-woo to a guest room and laid him down. The moment his body touched the bedding, his head fell to the side. Like a corpse.

They removed his gear and called the physician. But the physician did not come immediately. He was still treating the wounded 9th Unit leader. After some time he finally arrived. He looked down. Yeong-woo's lips were blue. He placed fingers beneath the nose. The breathing was faint. Almost gone. He felt for the pulse. The heartbeat slowed. Slower. Slower. It felt as if it might stop.

"Ah—!" Cheol-un panicked.

"What's wrong with him?" The physician answered.

"Poison."

"What?"

"There was poison on the blade."

"He was steady and clear-headed when he arrived."

"But for his condition to worsen like this after treatment…"

"It must be poison." Cheol-un shouted.

"What poison?"

"Their swords were coated with it."

"Damn it!"

"Please treat him!" The physician shook his head.

"I must know which poison it is."

"Only then can I treat it."

"Can't you tell from the symptoms?"

"Most poisons produce similar symptoms."

"If I use the wrong antidote…"

"That becomes another poison."

"We must know exactly what poison it is." He looked toward the door.

"The man who used the poison will have the antidote."