Birth, The Immortal (1)

The Demon Doctor was not called that in name only.

One month after entering the Forbidden Demon Prison, Neung Je-gang could now walk freely and go to the underground lake himself to catch fish for food.

By reconnecting torn muscles and mending shattered bones, the Demon Doctor had shown such surgical mastery that Neung Je-gang was certain he would have surpassed Hua Tuo in fame if he had lived as a proper physician.

By now his eyes had fully adapted to the darkness, and although it wasn’t as clear as the outside world, he could at least make out shapes dimly.

As time passed and he was nearly healed, the Demon Doctor called for Neung Je-gang.

“Now, let’s begin the promised experiment.”

“Is it time already? But what exactly is this experiment?”

They had lived together for nearly a month. The two had grown fairly close.

Of course, that was only the Demon Doctor’s one-sided thought. Neung Je-gang had never shaken his rejection of the man.

There was a saying that even if one committed crimes, if they repented with a good heart, their past sins could be forgiven.

Neung Je-gang had never believed in such nonsense. Even if the Demon Doctor had grown kind now, the resentment of those who had died at his hands could never vanish.

“It’s nothing much. Just know that it’s an experiment to make your body more flexible—simply to see how far the human body can be softened.”

“And that will heal my dantian?”

“Heh heh heh! No, that alone cannot restore a dantian. Healing it requires another step. First I’ll test your body. If there’s a chance of success, I’ll proceed to the stage of restoring your dantian. It will be agonizing, unbearable while conscious. So I’ll seal your meridians, and I’ve prepared medicine besides.”

“Couldn’t I just endure it awake?”

Neung Je-gang had endured the torturer’s most vicious methods without letting out a single groan. He thought he could simply grit his teeth and pass out if it became too much. Entrusting himself fully to someone named Demon Doctor made him deeply uneasy.

“No. If you thrash in pain, the experiment will fail.”

With no choice, Neung Je-gang accepted the offered bowl of medicine.

“This will stimulate your muscles so you cannot exert strength. You will live powerless for the next three months and fifteen days.”

“What? That long?”

“Don’t belittle medical research. This is the last and greatest experiment of my life. If it succeeds, it will benefit you greatly as well.”

“Is there any chance it will succeed?”

“I’ve practiced endlessly on the corpses of those who died in this prison. If your tenacious vitality holds out, it may succeed. Now drink and lie down.”

In the end, Neung Je-gang entrusted his life to the Demon Doctor’s hands.

As the drug took hold and he went limp, the Demon Doctor pressed his meridians, smiling with triumph, his hands probing from head to toe until stopping.

“As expected, your physique is stronger than anyone I’ve met here. If all goes well, the experiment may succeed. If my research is not wrong… I shall now dare challenge the gods. You will be reborn with a new body—an existence unable to die, even if you wish it.”

He left and returned carrying a great stone jar filled with dark liquid. It was large enough to hold a man.

“This is the true blood of martial experts who died here under the Eastern Depot. You will absorb it for 108 days. In time, you will know what change it will bring to your body.”

He carefully placed the jar nearby and stripped Neung Je-gang’s clothes before laying him on the stone table.

“Let’s begin.”

The Demon Doctor first grasped Neung Je-gang’s smallest toe.

Crack. Snap.

The sound of dislocated joints rang cruelly.

“I shall name this art the Asura’s Dissection Divine Technique. You will be the first and last in human history to bear the body of an Asura. Then the world will know the greatness they once scorned. Heh heh, ha ha ha ha!”

His laughter turned maniacal.

Crunch. Crackle.

All of Neung Je-gang’s joints were torn apart and twisted.

And so the promised 108 days passed without fail.

“Mmm! He should be awakening now… Don’t tell me it failed?”

The Demon Doctor stared hard at the massive jar.

Inside, Neung Je-gang was curled like a child in the womb. The dark liquid—the true blood of countless masters—was gone, replaced by clear water that showed his body within.

The Demon Doctor waited long, then grew weary and stepped outside.

“I’ll fetch a fish for him when he wakes.”

He looked far older than before, his back even slightly bent. The experiment had drained much of his vitality.

Not long after he left for the underground lake—

Flash!

Neung Je-gang’s eyes opened.

“What is this…?”

His first thought was whether he was dead or alive. But something felt wrong. His body wouldn’t move easily, and all around him was darkness.

For a moment, he wondered if he had been buried in a coffin.

“Awake already?”

The Demon Doctor’s voice called from above.

“Why can’t I see? Did the experiment fail?”

If it had, then his last hope was gone.

“No. If it had failed, you would not be alive to ask. The experiment succeeded. Your dantian should be nearly healed. You cannot see because you are still inside the jar.”

“The jar…?”

Relieved, Neung Je-gang pushed upward, confirmed the opening, and rose. The jar tipped and fell.

Thud.

His head struck the stone table’s edge.

“Ow!”

He clutched his head, expecting agony—but there was none.

“What… what is this?”

“Stop whining. Your body is no longer what it was. You won’t die easily now, and you will scarcely feel pain.”

“Incredible. You said you’d make me soft, but instead you made me hard as stone? Wasn’t that a failure?”

Examining himself, he felt no difference.

“Wait…?”

He looked around. He could see better than ever before.

The Demon Doctor sighed.

Now, for the first time, Neung Je-gang saw his face clearly.

“Something wrong? Did something fail?”

“No. But though my experiment succeeded, no one will ever know my medical achievements. In this prison, there is no chance to show the world.”

“So you want to boast.”

“It’s not boasting—I want people to know the legacy of the one they called Demon Doctor.”

“That’s the same thing. But don’t despair. I’ll escape this place.”

“Escape? You think this is an ordinary jail?”

He scoffed.

“I’ll get out. Once the Eastern Depot Director changes, they promised to release me.”

“They promised? Ha! If true, perhaps.”

He clearly didn’t believe it.

“I believe it.”

“Damn fool. Fine, eat and practice your breathing.”

He pressed a fish into Neung Je-gang’s hand and left again.

“Next time, don’t bother with the Three Yang Energy Art. It’s too crude for the power you now harbor. Choose one of the arts on the stone tablets. Though even those may not contain it…”

As the voice faded, Neung Je-gang nodded.

He thought of his late master, who had only the Three Yang Energy Art to give. Here, legendary arts lay scattered like fallen leaves.

“What should I learn? From the Orthodox side? Or the Demonic side?”

He chewed fish and pondered.

Then he remembered: his master had fused poison into a Yang art. If Yang could bear poison, then perhaps Orthodoxy and Demonism could be trained together.

Resolute, he studied the tablets.

“At least begin with the Demonic Mara Sutra. It’s the strongest. The Demon Doctor himself studied it. I must build my foundation on a demonic art, then root within it an orthodox one.”

It was a gamble. But having lived beside pioneers who broke new ground, he now believed he could too.

Climbing onto the stone table, he sat cross-legged and began meditating on the Demonic Mara Energy Method.

Hum.

At once, unknown currents flowed through him, stirring the air itself.

Unlike the first time he learned martial arts, now energy moved freely, even through meridians he had never touched.

Where once blockages and obstacles abounded, now nothing hindered him.