The Rebel’s Quack Doctor 20

“Everything you asked for today should be ready soon.”
Louie skimmed the sketches, then nodded with a bright, sunny grin.
“But lately you’ve only been asking Louie-noona for things… Isn’t there anything you need from me?”
Rick pouted from behind, glaring at me with puffed-up cheeks.
“Today I’ve got something for you too. Heh heh.”
I gave him a meaningful smile and walked over. At the words “something for you,” Rick’s expression brightened noticeably. These kids were so strange—delighted to be put to work. Masochists, probably.
“Do you think you could make a drug that temporarily numbs skin sensation so the person doesn’t feel pain? Just locally, I mean.”
Rick’s eyes went round in surprise.
“W-Why would you need a poison like that…?”
His voice trembled.
Ah. Poison. Right… I hadn’t thought of it that way, but anesthetics could technically be considered a type of poison.
“Hmm, it’s for treatment. Is it possible? Oh—and could you figure out how much salt is in human blood? If you need a sample, I can give you some of mine.”
Rick practically recoiled at the second request, shaking his head frantically.
“N-No! It’s fine! Really! We don’t need to go that far. Your blood, sensei…? We could never accept something so precious!”
Precious…? He was acting like my blood was some sacred relic. It made me feel oddly embarrassed. Goodness.
At that moment the workshop door burst open.
I tensed instinctively. Every time that door opened now, dread pooled in my stomach. The memory of Pin’s terrified face—running in screaming that Jin couldn’t breathe—was still painfully vivid.
And the expression Jack wore right now was exactly the same.
“Sensei! You were here… I went to the clinic and you weren’t there…”
Jack spoke in a rush. My heart sank. No way… again?
But it couldn’t be. Jin had been getting so much better. There was no reason for him to come looking for me in such a panic.
“The Leader-nim’s condition suddenly got worse…”
Of course. “Suddenly” always found a way to catch people off guard.
My face drained of color. I ran for the greenhouse.
This man—did he really have to make me worry every single day? Did he not sleep unless he’d given me a heart attack first?
He had clearly been recovering. He hadn’t coughed up blood in weeks. And yet now, right in front of me, Jin was doubled over, coughing violently, bright blood spilling from his mouth.
But what frightened me most wasn’t the blood.
It was his expression.
I had never seen this look on Jin before. Always calm, always composed—even when his heart had stopped and come back, he had stayed steady. But now his face was raw terror, eyes wide and trembling.
“Jin…”
I fumbled for the medicine bottle and pulled out the acacia-flower extract. Late spring brought those ubiquitous blossoms everywhere, and I’d never known—until coming to this world—that they were effective for respiratory issues.
Even better, they helped with bleeding-related conditions too. The perfect medicine for Jin.
I rubbed his back gently until the coughing eased. Thankfully it subsided quickly. After he swallowed the medicine, his breathing steadied and the bleeding stopped.
But his face remained rigid, still pale with fear. Seeing him tremble like a frightened child made something inside me ache.
Without thinking, I wrapped my arms around him—awkwardly at first—then patted his back.
“…Jin, are you okay?”
“Astrid…”
His voice shook. Right now he looked exactly like an abandoned kitten curled in a box.
“…Yes, it’s me. Astrid.”
I stroked his smooth black hair. A faint, pale smile curved his blood-smeared lips.
“Jack, there’s a bottle labeled ‘sedative’ on the shelf in the clinic. Could you bring it?”
I wasn’t a formally trained doctor, but in that moment I knew—instinctively—that this wasn’t a physical crisis. This was psychological.
Jack returned quickly. I gave Jin the medicine. The sedative took effect almost immediately; his eyes fluttered shut and he slipped into sleep.
“What on earth happened, Richard?”
Once Jin was asleep, I rounded on Richard.
There was no physical reason for such a sudden deterioration. Something had shaken him deeply—something psychological. And I had no idea what.
“I… I did something wrong. Because of me, Jin…”
Richard’s face was ashen.
No—this man’s condition was just as wrecked. What in the world had happened to leave both of them in pieces?
“You look like you’ve had a shock too. Here—drink some cold water.”
Cold water really was the best emergency treatment. Richard gulped it down; color slowly returned to his face.
“Now tell me everything. What happened?”
I pressed again. Richard stayed stubbornly silent.
“Jin’s condition worsened suddenly because of a severe mental shock. If you don’t tell me exactly what it was, we can’t prevent this from happening again.”
I was practically begging. Richard clutched his head, groaning in misery.
“I… touched something I shouldn’t have. An old wound of Jin’s. One I thought had healed long ago. But it had been festering inside, layer after layer… One small touch and it burst open.”
His voice cracked with unshed tears.
That was too vague. Was he saying Jin had some deep trauma—and Richard had accidentally triggered it?
“Did you do it on purpose?”
I asked even though I already knew the answer. Of course not. Richard would never deliberately hurt Jin like that.
“…No.”
He answered with a heavy sigh. Exactly as expected.
“Then don’t carry so much guilt. It’ll only make Jin sad too.”
At my words, the rigid mask on Richard’s face softened—just a little. As though I had loosened invisible chains around his ankles.
“But…”
But what now? Richard really was stubbornly upright and dense. Frustrating old man. And yet—I couldn’t hate him. He was too honest, too kind.
It was infuriating. I had read the original story so many times, yet information about Jin and Richard was painfully scarce. They’d only appeared briefly in Rodent’s childhood chapters before dying off-stage.
What in the world could have happened to Jin to make someone so unshakably calm fall into full-blown panic?
“You’re hurt too, Richard. You must be exhausted. Stop worrying about Jin and go rest.”
He shook his head slowly, then let out another soul-deep sigh.
Goodness. Suddenly I wanted to comfort this trembling man.
‘But Richard keeps avoiding me…’
I wanted to pat his back, but I wasn’t sure he’d welcome the touch. After hesitating, I squeezed my eyes shut and placed my hand on his back.
“It’s okay. It’s okay.”
Richard flinched at the contact but didn’t pull away. Phew. Thank goodness. First Jin the child, now Richard the child. I felt like a kindergarten teacher…
“I’ll stay with Jin. If he wakes up I’ll let you know. So go rest. This is your attending physician’s order, patient-ssi. You have to follow doctor’s orders.”
I spoke firmly, coaxing. Richard kept his head bowed for a long moment before finally looking up. I could feel his sky-blue eyes trembling.
“Go drink a cup of warm herbal tea, take a warm bath, and sleep deeply without thinking about anything. Oh—and keep your wound dry!”
Yes—warm bath, herbal tea, and deep sleep. The perfect prescription. I felt quietly proud of how flawless it sounded.
Then Richard looked at me with eyes like a clear autumn sky after rain.
“Thank you… always, Doctor.”
His voice trembled slightly. Then he strode out of the greenhouse on those long legs.
Anyway—was Jin really okay? In dramas, patients in recovery sometimes deteriorated sharply from sudden stress. And most of those scenes were…
Death flags.
‘No—what am I even thinking?’
I shook my head vigorously to banish the words “death flag” from my mind. No way, our little sea pineapple! After all the effort I put into saving you, you can’t die like this!
My neck prickled with dread as I pressed the stethoscope to his chest. Breath sounds were worse than usual, but compared to his really bad days, the crackles were fewer.
I took his hand—thin, pale, fragile enough to shatter if I squeezed too hard. Holding that beautiful hand, my nose suddenly stung.
His sleeping profile was so pale… it felt like my own breath was being stolen.
The terrified way he’d called me “Astrid” kept replaying in my head.
At first the name had felt foreign. Now it felt like it belonged to me.
When had that happened? No matter how much I tried to deny it under the excuse of “just fandom,” I couldn’t lie to myself anymore.
I liked this man.
When Jin hurt, my chest ached too. When he smiled clearly, a smile rose on my lips without me noticing.
“ACHOO!”
…A sneeze?
I’d been holding Jin’s hand, staring at his sleeping face, when the sudden sound made me jump. Far off near the greenhouse entrance sat Jack.
Oh—right. Jack.
How could I forget Jack was even here? Heat rushed to my face.
“S-Sorry, sensei…”
Jack’s face was bright red too. Why did he look so mortified—like he’d just interrupted an intimate moment and was dying of embarrassment?
I fanned my burning face, unable to even stammer a denial.
★
“Sensei! Sensei! The Leader-nim…!”
Pin came running in tears. I turned ashen and sprinted for the greenhouse.
Jin was vomiting blood—copious amounts.
A normal adult has about 1/12 of their body weight in blood. I didn’t know Jin’s exact weight, but judging by sight, he probably had around 5 liters total.
Losing 30% of blood volume causes fatal hypovolemic shock.
And the blood currently soaking the bed… easily surpassed 30%.
“Jin—Jin! No, Jin. Don’t lose consciousness. Look at me. Please…”
I clutched his cooling body and begged. No, Jin… please don’t leave me.
“As…trid.”
In fading consciousness, Jin weakly lifted his bloodstained hand to my cheek. Through his trembling fingers I could feel his life slipping away.
“My death… isn’t your fault. So… please don’t suffer too much. Okay?”
Sad eyes. The blue light of life dimming. I hugged him tightly, tears streaming.
No, Jin. Don’t go…
The hand stroking my cheek fell limp.
I woke gasping.
Why did I have this horrible dream every night?
Sometimes it was Richard running to me in tears. Sometimes Rodent, Rick, Louie, Betty—everyone I knew in the underground city took turns.
The location changed too: greenhouse, bedroom, sometimes even the clinic.
Jin’s dying always varied. Sometimes hemorrhaging like today, sometimes suffocating, gasping for air.
But no matter the variation, his final words were always the same.
The exact last words the original Jin had left for Astrid.
These nightmares had started the moment I admitted to myself that I liked him. Waking up drenched in cold sweat every morning was torture.
‘Still… thank you today. Thank you that this is only a dream.’
Warm water from the shower sluiced away the night’s sweat. If only this warmth and lavender scent could wash away my worries too.
Worrying that Jin might die hurt terribly—but what hurt more was knowing I would never hear those words from him.
In the original, Jin and Astrid had loved each other. But I…
A man as brilliant and perceptive as Jin would never fall for someone like me—an insidious otaku on the inside. On the outside I wore Astrid’s face, but inside I was completely different.
Still—if Jin could just stay alive beside me, breathing, I could be content.
“Okay! Let’s start today energetically!”
After a warm shower I swung my arms vigorously and stepped out of the bedroom.
My morning routine: head to Jin’s room, check his vitals now that he was awake, coax the fussy child into eating breakfast and taking his medicine, then head to the greenhouse.
But today—today was very, very special.
Before the greenhouse, there was another appointment.
I had been cramming Jin full of nutrients based on my half-remembered food science knowledge, but some things couldn’t be gotten from food alone.
Vitamin D!
Synthesized when skin was exposed to sunlight—this was something the sleeping beauty trapped in the underground city’s tiny greenhouse was inevitably deficient in.
After his recent stress-induced collapse, Jin had thankfully regained strength within a few days. Desperate to strengthen his bones, I had persuaded—and persuaded—Richard until finally—
Today was the day. Jin’s first outing for some photosynthesis. His first time stepping onto the surface since entering the underground city months ago.
“Doctor, you’re here?”
Jin greeted me warmly.
Our low-stamina sea pineapple was understandably sleepy, yet his sensitivity made him wake early every morning to greet me. (He usually spent the afternoon dozing like a sickly chick, though.)
“Time to check your temperature. Open.”
I placed the thermometer Louie had made under his tongue. She really was an incredible artisan. Thanks to her, I had been able to monitor Jin’s temperature accurately these past few days.
After comparing mine and others’, the average hovered around 36°C—so the device was working perfectly.
The problem was… our little Jin…
“37.7°C… haa…”
His baseline temperature always ran higher than everyone else’s.
Fever could indicate inflammation. Was Jin’s illness inflammatory in nature? Chronic bronchitis…? But there was no severe systemic fever or symptoms, so probably not pneumonia.
“It’s the same as usual, right, Doctor?”
Jin grinned cheekily.
You think “same as usual” is okay, you jellyfish?
Ever since that night he’d called me “Astrid” in panic, he had gone back to “Doctor.” Honestly, it was better than blushing every time he said my name.
“Stethoscope—”
Before I finished, Jin had already unbuttoned his shirt and was waiting. Morning ritual now—he was used to it.
“Breath sounds are fine. How was sleeping last night?”
He answered with a clear smile.
“Very comfortably, sensei.”
Jin always said that. I never believed him. So I turned to the night attendant.
“Railey, how was the Leader-nim overnight?”
Railey glanced at Jin, then squeezed his eyes shut like a loyal retainer about to deliver unwelcome truth.
“Around 3 a.m. he had a brief coughing fit… He couldn’t sleep deeply after that, but otherwise he was fine.”
I whipped my head toward Jin. He squeaked and looked away. Why did he keep hiding symptoms from his own doctor?
Coughing badly at dawn… His condition still wasn’t great. Maybe we should cancel today’s outing?
But the disappointment on Jin’s face when I started to suggest it was heartbreaking.
“Doctor, no way! I’m fine. Do you know how long I’ve waited for today…?”
Seeing that look, I caved. This was my first time above ground in months too—but for Jin it had been over a year and five months.
“But if you catch a cold out there…”
I fretted. Jin looked up at me pleadingly.
“In this summer weather? A cold? Sensei, I promise I’ll behave. Please…”
He looked like a child whose picnic had been canceled. My heart was too soft to refuse.
Ugh, seriously. What am I supposed to do with our baby?
(And what am I supposed to do with myself for liking a man like this?)
I let out a long sigh.
“Fine. But breakfast—all of it. No complaints.”
I said sternly. Jin nodded vigorously. Seeing him move so energetically reassured me a little.
Soon Betty arrived with breakfast: protein-rich fried eggs, wholesome rye bread, fiber-packed vegetable soup, and vitamin-loaded fresh fruit juice.
Normally Jin would whine: too much, arms tired, jaw sore, stomach bursting. But today—with the promise of going outside—he ate diligently without a single word of protest.
While Jin was focused on finishing every bite, Richard and Rodent arrived. They were coming with us to the surface.
“How is Jin’s condition? Is it really safe for him to go out?”
Richard asked me quietly.
I hesitated. He looked okay now, but after such a long illness, I couldn’t be completely sure.
“Hmm… But staying cooped up underground forever won’t help him recover either. A little fresh air might do him good…”
While I spoke with Richard, I felt a prickling at the back of my head. I turned—Jin was staring at us intently.
“Jin, why are you looking like that?”
Richard looked awkward. Jin shook his head.
He seemed… strangely downcast.
Wait—don’t tell me…
“Are you worried we’ll say you can’t go? I promised—if you finished breakfast, we’d go together.”
I spoke gently, the way one might to a child. Jin looked at me, then let out a small laugh.
“You really do treat me like a little kid, Doctor. Even though I’m way older than you.”
His words made me choke on my own spit. Richard definitely gave off big-brother energy, but Jin…
No matter how I looked at him, he didn’t feel like an older man. Honestly, he felt twelve, not thirty-two.
Liking him had nothing to do with it—some things just couldn’t be helped.
“Well, as long as I get to go, I don’t mind. Right, Rodent?”
Jin asked brightly. Rodent nodded enthusiastically.
“Yes! Leader-nim!”
See? Right now they looked almost the same age. The original story described them like father and son, but honestly—they looked more like brothers.
Watching them smile at each other so innocently was unbearably lovely. Jin and Rodent both. Before I knew it, I was smiling too.
If I could protect these smiles, this happiness… I felt like I could stand against any fate.
I would fight. No matter what.