A dull throb.

I could’ve sworn I had an important dream. I tried to recall it, but it evaporated faster than the twitch of an eyebrow. Was this one of those clichés?

Hey, why the tears?

I must’ve slept a ton.

Judging by the nonsense spilling from my mouth.

“Ugh.”

Lee Taebaek groaned as he sat up. Rubbing his eyes with his thumb dislodged a bunch of gunk.

“Filthy—”

Something snagged on his thumb.

Wriggle—

A slight sting between his brows.

He gingerly prodded with his relatively slender finger and felt something needle-like.

Carefully extracting it with his index finger…

A real needle.

The needle’s tip gleamed, and Lee Taebaek’s dead-fish eyes snapped back to life.

His gaze dropped. A cactus entered his view. Why does my arm look like this? And it wasn’t just that.

Silver needles blanketed his rolled-up pants below the knee, and his exposed abdomen was similarly occupied. Purple bruises dotted his pale stomach like spots. Gross.

But still.

Why am I a porcupine?

Did Ban call in a herbalist? Creepy thought. Most doctors in Lake City were unlicensed anyway.

Even 9th Battalion Deputy Commander Yu Dahui, a healer herself, lacked a license. Rumor had it they swore blind loyalty to the City Government instead of the Hippocratic Oath. She wasn’t alone; plenty refused certification for the same reason.

That bred a few genuine miracle workers among the quacks—Hua Tuo reborn.

Poison Master Tang Munik of the Ten Wings was a prime example.

He might lack the paper, but who questioned his skills? The Tang Clan grabbed needles before pencils, building poison resistance with toxin-laced porridge while others drank formula.

Their brutal training made Tang medicine peerless. In the City, they rivaled Siesta Megacorp for top spot.

But this felt like unlicensed doctor heaven.

No need for hell. Reality was…

There was a saying in the City: Send an assassin to kill family.

Send an unlicensed doc for your enemy.

I must’ve been spooked. Me, who faced Saber Master Muyachi without flinching, now babbling nonsense.

Anyway.

Point was, whoever treated Lee Taebaek seemed unlicensed.

Fuck, did they harvest an organ?

He shook his head to dispel the grim thought. Silver needles dangling from his face and neck scattered.

Oddly, despite the chaos, his muscles weren’t numb or sore.

Screeech.

The door hinge squeaked shyly, announcing a visitor. Through the two-inch gap stepped Dumpling Head—precisely, 3rd Battalion Commander Tang Jihye.

“…What’re you doing?”

That was my line.

Tang Jihye carried a tray in both hands. The bowl atop it steamed with a pungent aroma.

“What are you doing here?”

“That’s no way to treat your nurse.”

“Nurses tend to the sick.”

“Well, well. After two straight days of beauty sleep, that’s rich.”

“I’ve been out for two days?”

Tang Jihye nodded curtly.

“Yep.”

“…”

“We stripped you for treatment. Don’t get ideas. I don’t have a fetish for groping sleeping guys.”

Her tone was gruff, but no malice. She grimaced at the mess on the floor, then sighed it away.

Stepping lightly around the needles on tiptoe, she set the tray on the bedside shelf.

“Eat.”

Lee Taebaek hesitated; she urged him.

“Before it cools.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope? Dead serious.”

“No. How do you even eat this?”

“With your mouth.”

Tang Jihye shot back flatly, gathering needles into a case herself.

Her.

Whatever else, relief flooded him knowing she’d placed them. Circumstances aside. She wouldn’t spill anyway, with her personality.

Humans were fickle. Anxious moments ago about his body, now he felt refreshed.

One issue, though.

Modern Tang Clan acupuncture was purely lethal.

Even if this is five years before the main story of Raken’s.

About twenty years back, their medicine was effectively abandoned. Poison Master supplanted Dark Master for Tang Munik two decades ago. The details? Clan-top secret.

And the direct culprit’s right here.

Needles sorted, Tang Jihye dragged a chair over and sat, arms crossed, leg over knee, chin haughtily raised.

“Eat fast. Tastes worse cold. Oh, and I loaded it with the best elixirs I could snag—”

Hands faster than ears. Lee Taebaek snatched the bowl and chugged.

Urk.

The liquid slammed his throat, jaw tingling. Life in a bowl: bitter, sweet, salty, sour. Peak unpalatability.

“Done? Let’s go.”

As he swallowed repeatedly, she dusted her seat. Needles already clutched.

She’d scooped them all in that instant. Impressive handiwork.

“Where to?”

“Food.”

“…Suddenly?”

“Your tonic’s packed with Flame Poison ingredients. Builds chill when fatigued—spicy food warms you up, prevents issues later.”

With that, she breezed out. Lee Taebaek stared at the closed door.

Even so, she omitted a bit too much. But in Lake City, Tang Jihye ranked high on social graces.

The higher you go, the more communication drops to the bare minimum.

Egoism ballooned universe-sized, birthing this mess. What to do? As Creator, embrace it.

The needle pricks sealed shut—unseen before. After a dry face-wash, he grabbed Para Blade from the bed and headed out.

Descending spiral stairs, thoughts churned with shifting views.

Why’s Tang Jihye so nice to me?

No reason. Barely acquaintances, and not fondly.

Fierce as they come, her kindness bred unease. Damn paranoia.

Why so scared, Lee Taebaek?

“Haa.”

The world I made broke me.

Two days gone—Commander-in-Chief must’ve told the Battalion Commanders. I scrapped with Saber Master.

Not quite a win, but notable.

Same org, different battalions—they might brag inwardly.

Childish, but no better explanation.

Or Tang Jihye feared him. That was too…

“No way.”

Nah.

No.

Probably not.

“…”

…Right?

Lee Taebaek followed Tang Jihye to a street stall. Silent the whole way, she grinned at the entrance tent like a Korean spotting kimchi jjigae abroad.

Spot-on analogy.

Entering, he winced, brows furrowing. Spicy fumes assaulted eyes and nose, blurring vision and breathing.

Slurrrrp…

Sweat mingled pungently. The stall was packed; diners sweated buckets over cramped ㄷ-shaped tables, shoulders bumping.

Battle-hardened, ignoring newcomers. What’re they eating?

“Boss.”

Tang Jihye sat first. The middle-aged owner beyond the counter kept at it, ears open.

“Two malatang.”

Ah, that explained her ear-to-ear smile.

Sichuan native—she saw kimchi stew in malatang.

“Fillings?”

“Usual.”

“Spice?”

“Nine for me…”

She glanced slyly. Ignoring her, Lee Taebaek asked the boss.

“What’s the beginner level, boss?”

“Eight.”

“…Sounds non-beginner even by the number. Anything lower?”

“Gotta give what customers want.”

The boss ladled red broth indifferently.

“But under seven? Won’t call you a customer next time. ‘Baby.’ And your girl’s on nine while you’re eight? Bruised ego?”

“Not my girl.”

Tang Jihye snapped back. Flush already on her face, pre-meal.

Lee Taebaek, too busy frowning, missed it.

“Nine.”

“Now that’s our customer.”

Food arrived.

Violent visuals. Frothing red broth, floating reds everywhere. Lee Taebaek grimaced; Tang Jihye drooled.

“…”

“Dig in.”

“Yeah.”

Meal began.

First bite chased sleep. Second, the tongue screamed. Third, lips swelled.

Poking delicately, he glanced at Tang Jihye. She tucked hair behind ear, blowing on meat.

“Good day, City residents.”

A TV hung in the ceiling corner.

“Apologies for grim early news.”

Anchor’s stern face halted diners. Owner slowed wiping noodles.

“As of two days ago, every Megacorp with the exception of the Daesung Group has been facing a collapse in share prices without precedent in recorded history. The hardest hit is Siesta, formerly second by market capitalisation, which lost 31 trillion won two days ago and a further 59 trillion today. That is a combined 90 trillion won gone in the space of two days.”

“Analysts attribute this to the Daesung Group’s recruitment of the Saber Master of the Ten Wings, and its effect on the share prices of the rival Megacorps. With one voice, however, they have raised the same question: can that alone really account for a fall of this size?”

“Siesta and the other Megacorps have declined to comment, adding only that countermeasures will be announced shortly. Opinion is unlikely to look kindly on the Daesung Group, and all eyes are now on how the group will respond. In other news…”

“Ahh, feels good.”

Someone slammed chopsticks into soup.

“Right? Always so arrogant.”

“They care about people’s livelihood? ‘Citizens’ means upper district elites!”

“Fuck, got a seizure notice. 20% interest from first-tier banks?”

“Megacorps grip finance.”

Owner smirked bitterly.

“Anyway, bankrupt ’em. Daesung to No. 1. They’re dirty too, but less than Siesta or Haragusa—reeking worse than lowest sewers. Why I can’t quit malatang. Masks their stench.”

“Fix your breath first?”

“You little—?!”

Laughter erupted; only Tang Jihye focused, polishing off the last meat before eyeing Lee Taebaek.

“Eat up. Think of it as a preventive shot against greasy food.”

3rd Battalion Commander relayed Commander-in-Chief’s will.

“From tomorrow, your main patrol area is the upper districts.”