And so I was led forward by Richard, blindfolded and stumbling. Ugh… I had tried so hard to avoid going down to the underground city, yet here my plans were, sinking without a trace.
It was time to think about Plan B. Either draw on the medical knowledge I had painstakingly accumulated over fifteen years of obsessive fandom to save Jin, or watch for the slightest chance to escape the underground city.
Of course, I already knew the second option was borderline impossible. After I had so clearly refused once, they would watch me like hawks from now on.
That left only one path…
‘I’m not even a real doctor. How am I supposed to save a patient who’s going to die in three months?’
I let out a deep, weary sigh. Beside me, a small hand reached out and clasped my own—already clammy with cold sweat.
Ugh, Rodant… it’s always been you, hasn’t it.
For a moment I thought about the fate that awaited Rodant in the original story. Astrid, Jin, and Richard weren’t exactly major players in the grand scheme of things.
Three months from now, when Jin dies, the Liberators—bereft of their leader—would be dismantled by the Black Spider. Countless lives would be lost.
The Black Spider was a shadowy organization led by a woman named Arachne. Like the Liberators, they opposed the empire. The crucial difference was that the Black Spider willingly embraced evil in order to fight evil. They did not hesitate to commit assassination, smuggling, or any other crime if it meant growing stronger. After Jin’s death, Astrid herself would be killed by one of their assassins.
Having lost Astrid and Jin—people he had looked up to like parents—and everyone he had come to see as family, Rodant would burn with a single-minded thirst for revenge.
For years he would hide in the shadows, building his power. Eight years later, he would resurrect the Liberators on the same grand scale they once possessed and liberate every citizen under imperial rule. That was the original story’s arc.
And Astrid… she was the woman who spent three months nursing the dying Jin at his bedside, only to fall deeply in love with him. Jin, to the very end, kept pushing her away.
In his final moments, Jin would leave her these words, spoken in a voice so faint and sorrowful it broke the heart:
“My death is not your fault. So please… don’t torment yourself too much.”
Though the original never explicitly said it, it was obvious Jin had loved Astrid in return.
Having sent the man she loved to his grave, Astrid welcomed the death that came for her like a blessing. At last, she could go to his side.
…It really was a beautiful, tragic relationship. But thinking that I was the one about to live through it made my chest ache a little.
Of course, I wasn’t Astrid—I wouldn’t fall in love with Jin. Still, if Jin died, the odds were high that I would die too. That part probably wouldn’t change.
From the descriptions in Liberator of the Underground City, Jin’s illness seemed to be some kind of respiratory disease. He coughed violently, spat phlegm streaked with blood, and soon began coughing up pure blood.
By the time Astrid became his personal physician, he was already so weak he could no longer stand on his own.
Severe coughing. Hemoptysis. I racked my brain, calling up every medical drama I had devoured over the past fifteen years. Respiratory illnesses hadn’t been all that common in those shows, unfortunately, so I wasn’t exactly an expert in this area.
What could it be? No matter how hard I thought, only two possibilities came to mind: tuberculosis and lung cancer.
If it was late-stage lung cancer, there was nothing I could do. Metastasis would have spread everywhere by now. Even if a world-class specialist had possessed this body, the case would still be hopeless.
But lung cancer became widespread only after smoking rates soared and air pollution worsened. Before that, it had been rare. A thirty-two-year-old man who didn’t smoke… surely it couldn’t be lung cancer. Please, let it not be that.
The story never described severe pain, so I clung to the hope that it wasn’t cancer and considered tuberculosis instead. Tuberculosis… but that didn’t quite fit either. TB was contagious.
If Jin had tuberculosis, wouldn’t Richard and the others around him have caught it by now? No, then what on earth was it? I wasn’t a doctor…
Still—if it wasn’t lung cancer—couldn’t strict hygiene, balanced nutrition, and high-quality food at least give him a fighting chance? Maybe not a full cure, but an extension of his life, even if only by a little?
The thought brought a faint spark of hope.
How long had I been walking blindfolded? After descending countless staircases, the ground finally leveled out. We had arrived in the underground city.
‘I thought an underground city would have thick, stale air, but this… it’s surprisingly fresh.’
I couldn’t help but be surprised. The air here was actually cleaner than the sewer-stinking alleys above ground. Somewhere in the distance, the low hum of enormous ventilation fans echoed.
The “Underground City” was a civilization built by dwarves who had vanished thousands of years ago. No one knew where such an advanced people had gone.
“We’ve arrived, Teacher Obert. Please wait a moment—I’ll take it off.”
Richard’s voice came from beside me. When he untied the black cloth, a burst of dazzling light assaulted my eyes, blinding me for several seconds.
As my vision adjusted, the underground city slowly came into view.
“Wow…”
It was breathtaking. Golden metals and multicolored gemstones adorned every surface. Street lamps cast warm, glowing light across the streets. The underground city was far more beautiful than anything I had imagined.
Rodant and I, overwhelmed by the grandeur, kept turning our heads in every direction. Was this really a city built beneath the earth?
Maybe the dwarves had possessed a civilization even more advanced than the modern world I came from. Maybe they were aliens or something—who knew?
Our sightseeing didn’t last long. Soon we were led to an incredibly imposing set of doors.
Yes, if this was the residence of the King of the Underground City, it made sense for it to be this extravagant. How many jewels were embedded in those doors? If I could somehow pry one off and escape, I could live the rest of my life in luxury. They looked impossibly heavy, though—doubtful I could even lift one.
The sheer scale of it suddenly made me nervous. They said that when a king died, his royal physician drank poison too… If I failed to save Jin, would I end up dead as well?
Of course, in the original story, Astrid hadn’t been harmed by the Liberators even after Jin’s death—but that was only because Jin had loved her.
I wasn’t her. I still had the same warm brown hair and sparkling green eyes, the same beautiful face, but my personality was completely different. There was no way Jin would fall in love with someone like me.
Standing before the doors, I tried to recall the first impression of Jin described in the original novel. He had looked like a walking skeleton. So frail it seemed he couldn’t even lift a weapon.
Long black hair curtained a bloodless face; only the deep blue of his eyes proved he was still alive. Just how emaciated did someone have to be for that kind of description?
“Please come in, Teacher.”
Richard pushed the heavy doors open. Heart pounding, I stepped inside.
A faint, dying cough reached my ears. That had to be Jin.
“Jin. I’ve brought Teacher Obert.”
Through the drawn curtains of an opulent bed, I could make out the silhouette of someone lying down. Thin—exactly as the descriptions said. Fragile.
The coughing grew harsher. Was he about to die right now?
Richard strode to the bedside. It seemed Jin couldn’t even sit up on his own anymore.
When Richard gently supported him and helped him sit upright, my breath caught in my throat.
Wait—no. Author-nim…? You never said Jin was this ridiculously handsome?!
