Chapter Text
In a world not yet graced by the female lead’s intelligence, medical insurance was a topic unheard of. Well, perhaps someone had gotten the bright idea of ensuring the common folk’s right to treatment before, but only the headstrong beauty Lee Seolhwa was able to make the musings become a reality. Really, Kim Dokja didn’t know what she saw in that headstrong sunfish.
Before he was swept up in the memory of Yoo Joonghyuk, Kim Dokja inwardly scoffed, We can have typewriters and occasionally plastic, but not medical insurance? Thanks, author.
These were Kim Dokja’s thoughts as he and Lee Gilyoung finally made it out of the forest and walked to actual civilization, towards the sun. Watching the sun slowly rise, rippling waves of burning orange as it moved, Kim Dokja began to think deeply about some holes he found in the world’s logic.
For instance, he got off work around 7 pm, which is when he was knocked out. If they had to drive out to the forest, then he’d estimate, with hypothesized carriages, it would take them a whole eight hours to get from there to the forest.
If you asked Kim Dokja, he’d say that for a criminal organization, moving ‘contestants’ for four hours for only ten minutes of ‘fun’ was wholly inefficient. If you asked him to be serious, he’d tell you how odd it was to see the sun rise when, at most, it should have been 11 pm by the time they escaped.
The only explanation he could think of was that between when he had to take a hammer to the head and when he woke up, time had skipped forward to match the narrative.
When he was reading The Tyrant’s Rise, he’d grown desensitized to these kinds of ‘black out time skips,’ but actually experiencing them was a whole different ball game.
He thought of the perfect description for this trash novel. It was similar to a child's daydream. The plot would jump forward and backward seemingly at random, with instances where a possible subplot could develop, but never to the level of the central plot. After all, when conceiving a story using only the mind, it would be difficult to keep up with anything but the main story.
Had he more time and the means, Kim Dokja would have sat down and tried to make more sense of the logistics of the world of The Tyrant’s Rise. However, he had neither and despondently dragged his mind back to the topic at hand: getting everyone treated and getting home.
The story was still in its early stages, so Kim Dokja had to prepare to pay out of pocket for treatment. He’d be more prepared if he had his wallet on him, but he didn’t. His bag was taken from him before he woke up, and part of himself grew a little jealous of Lee Gilyoung for being an unassuming child who could keep their things, even if ‘things’ were a box full of chirping crickets.
No, that doesn’t feel right to say, Kim Dokja griped, unable to card through his hair agitatedly for the time being.
Kim Dokja threw his jealousy out and focused on Lee Gilyoung’s hand, small and slightly trembling. The boy walked to the right of him, his burns thankfully less severe. Kim Dokja noted the way Lee Gilyoung kept his right arm away from his body and tensed when his sooty clothes brushed against his bare skin.
When he was Lee Gilyoung’s age, Kim Dokja usually distracted himself by —how surprising— reading or listening to his mother read. He felt a brief aching but opted to rack his brain for conversation topics. After a second more of deliberation, he cleared his throat.
“Ahem. Gilyoung-ie, this sleeping ahjussi might wake up soon,” Kim Dokja mused aloud, feeling Bihyung stir on his back, “He won’t be up for long, probably.”
Lee Gilyoung settled on awkwardly twisting the scorched parts of his shirt away from his torso. This new parent of his was really bad at choosing conversation topics, and Lee Gilyoung wondered where that eloquent, insect-killer from before went.
He eyed the near-dead man slumped over Kim Dokja’s shoulder. The boy was no medical expert, but he had the feeling the white-haired guy wouldn’t last the night… or day.
Slowly, he questioned, “Did we… have to bring him, hyung?”
The image of Bihyung smiling behind his pistol faded into the dirt road leading into what Kim Dokja hoped to be a border village. The scene assimilated into the ground, leaving Kim Dokja to consider exactly what ‘plan’ he was trying to formulate that involved this…money-hungry, goblin of a man. His thought process when he picked up the announcer was brief enough to be squeezed into a millisecond, but now that he had the time to sober up, he couldn’t recall for the life of him what he had rationalized.
To Lee Gilyoung’s question, he didn’t exactly have an answer, so he gave a small, unsure nod and looked up at the Yoo estate in the distance, looming over the expansive dukedom’s capital city. It worked as a north star of sorts, after all, his house couldn’t be too far from his workplace with the lack of faster transportation and all.
Granted, there was a public carriage system that was given a passing description, but figuring out the routes after only three days of ‘moving’ here was troublesome. He was lucky enough that his job in the estate was close enough to the one in his first life, but it seemed that was where his luck ran out.
Can’t get a grasp on my thoughts for the life of me, Kim Dokja groaned, bending down to keep the dead weight he carried centered. Not like I’d be any better off if this guy woke up.
Kim Dokja shuffled a couple more steps forward, but each footfall and attempt at planning was punctuated with a burning between the grooves of his brain. Once his vision began to swim, afterimages of pebbles floating in his eyes, was when Kim Dokja really began to panic. Briefly, he felt something behind his eyes shift, close to a page turning, but it was just Lee Gilyoung pulling ahead to check on him. The boy might have been calling his name, but it was muffled like he’d been shoved underwater.
Kim Dokja reared up to make a sardonic comment on himself for the umpteenth time, but the sting flossed harsher this time like a wire saw running between folds of skin. His vision strobed black while he stumbled, and it oscillated between colors one more time before he heard Lee Gilyoung yell.
“Hyung!”
Kim Dokja blinked twice, and his vision returned almost instantaneously, but not before a warbled voice resounded in his ear; rather, it spoke directly to his brain.
Offset…? Did I hear that right? The question was so clear compared to those asked just moments before. Kim Dokja shuddered like he was being smiled at by something unknown before even that sensation vanished without a trace.
“Hyung! Hyung, are you okay!?” Lee Gilyoung panicked, rushing ahead to hold Kim Dokja by his shoulders.
Kim Dokja would have pushed the boy down from his toes, but he thought better of it. It might be too familiar of him to do.
“I’m fine. I’m fine. I just lost my footing for a bit. The Star…” Kim Dokja trailed off before he accidentally said a name he was definitely not supposed to know, “Those guys knocked me out with a hammer. I would be surprised if I wasn't dizzy.”
Lee Gilyoung pursed his lips skeptically, but reluctantly went back down on his feet and continued to walk.
“Sure, Hyung…”
“Surprised if I wasn’t dizzy,” Kim Dokja mocked himself briefly before cutting himself off in the same line. I am surprised! I was just about to knock out just a while ago…
With Lee Gilyoung focused on walking, Kim Dokja stopped controlling his expression and furrowed his eyebrows in understandable confusion.
What was that? I don’t feel healed. Ah, it’s more like I just forgot about the pain?
All the places he was sure he’d bruised or scraped were devoid of any pain, and his mind was calm. It reminded him of swishing a window curtain closed. There was the deep-rooted inkling that behind that curtain, the world went on. That muffled feeling is exactly what Kim Dokja had pinpointed. To emphasize his own idea, he experimentally opened and closed his hand, which miraculously showed no sign of fatigue or stinging.
Seeing Kim Dokja flex his hand, Lee Gilyoung took it as a sign to hold his guardian’s hand again and seamlessly slotted his smaller hand into Kim Dokja’s like it was the natural thing to do. The older man squeezed the kid’s hand reassuringly and began to take stock of their new surroundings. The earlier mysterious recovery had to be put on Kim Dokja’s mental back burner. This was no time to be curious.
Focus. That stupid novel said the estate is to the west of a major river and east of the sea. The sun is rising ahead of us, so I’d say we’re closer to the river’s side then? That means, Kim Dokja almost groaned aloud, We’d have to walk even further past the estate to get to my house.
Kim Dokja felt himself really missing the Han River.
Did the previous owner of this body like the beach that much? There’s nothing wrong with rivers!
Unhelpfully, his mind supplemented that he’d also have to find treatment for Bihyung, somehow work back the money he’d lost, and figure out how to excuse his tardiness upon coming into work.
Transmigrators are supposed to get easier lives, so why does it seem to be the opposite in my case?
Kim Dokja let his thoughts fly around for a while —many of them similar to his last comment— as he and Lee Gilyoung walked another two blocks further into the village, which was now transitioning into a more urban area. Overhead, clotheslines hung and dripped discolored water onto the street below, numerous enough to partially blot out the white shadow of the daytime moon.
All of The Tyrant’s Rise took place in or near the Yoo Estate, save for a couple of ‘diplomatic visits’ to the Empire’s Capital, so how was I supposed to know the situation in the capital’s outskirts was this… bad?
The buildings grew taller and darker as they walked, and Lee Gilyoung furtively brushed a sleeve under his nose, a temporary reprieve from the foul smell seeming to waft in from the alleyways between the lived-in townhouses. Kim Dokja could also register the rank stench, but there was a feeling in the back of his head that what he smelled was much less foul than what it actually was.
Does it have to do with the voice from earlier? Kim Dokja’s head began to throb in retaliation, Right. One thing at a time, one thing at a time.
Lee Gilyoung brushed his nose three more times before Kim Dokja sighed and resolved he would have to skip work today. Lee Gilyoung, from what Kim Dokja surmised thus far, was only acting strong. He, too, wouldn’t be able to take this much longer.
Moreover, walking under these conditions was out of the question, and the longer Bihyung remained unconscious, the more Kim Dokja had reason to believe he was hauling along a corpse.
At this point, we might as well try finding a kind soul to help. The Duchy’s citizens were always written as nice and generous. This could work!
“Gilyoung-ah. When I walk up to a door, stand behind me, alright?” Kim Dokja looked at the kid through the corner of his eye, untangling his hand to brush some soot out of Lee Gilyoung’s hair.
Lee Gilyoung ran a hand through his frizzy hair and tidied it up while nodding, “Behind you, got it.”
I’ve never done door-to-door sales, but it’s not too late to try.
Swallowing some apprehension, Kim Dokja walked up to the first townhouse illuminated from inside by candlelight and knocked on its chipped door. It made a hollow sound, and for good measure, Kim Dokja knocked three more times in quick succession. He was about to go for a fourth, but suddenly, the door swung open to reveal a man with a flat, greasy nose and thinning grey hair.
The old man had his hands close to himself defensively, and when Kim Dokja glanced past him, there were two women still in their nightclothes, eying the door warily and huddling close enough to hug in apprehension. He suppressed a furrowed brow and put on a salaryman smile, an uncanny grin that made it seem like his mind was not all there.
“Hello, sir. My child and I-” He began cordially, unconsciously bowing a bit. Lee Gilyoung furtively preened at Kim Dokja’s address.
Kim Dokja was cut off with a loud scoff, and the old man made to close the door while nearly hissing, “We have nothing left for you people. Didn’t you come by yesterday?”
“No, we-“
“I-I told you we have nothing.” The man shakily repeated, furtively easing the door shut like a shield.
“We just need some medicine.” Kim Dokja pleaded, stepping into the doorway, “Whatever you have. We’d even settle for onions.”
The old man ground his teeth and straightened up as much as he could, like trying to make himself look bigger in front of a predator. He hesitated for a couple of seconds but soon he nearly bellowed, “Damn it, leave us alone!”
The retort was so loud that Kim Dokja took a cautionary step back, but once his foot was out the door…
SLAM!
It shut right in his face. For a second, he stood outside the house dazed, but soon sighed and smoothed his blackened dress shirt. Shoving Bihyung further up his back, Kim Dokja turned to Lee Gilyoung and nodded forward. Maybe just this one house mistook him for a loan shark?
Lee Gilyoung trudged away from the townhouse and crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes at the offending door. Turning his nose up, Lee Gilyoung grumbled, “Why’d they slam the door like that?”
“I wish I knew, Gilyoung-ie.” Kim Dokja gestured towards the lit-up house with his chin, and the three began to walk again.
Thus, Kim Dokja got to experience the life of a steadfast solicitor. It went a little something like this:
“Hello, my son and-”
SLAM!
“Sorry, could we trouble you for some-”
SLAM!
“Uh...help us?”
For a second, the person inside gave him a look of pity. They made to open the door…
SLAM!
Only to shut it with a bang.
The sun had successfully triumphed over the horizon by the time Kim Dokja gave up. They sat on the mossy steps up to the latest house they tried, heads hung despondently like a group of abandoned kittens. Occasionally, Bihyung took in a gulping breath, but other than this one sign of apparent consciousness, he stayed knocked out on Kim Dokja’s back. In times like these, trying times, Kim Dokja thought of Yoo Joonghyuk and what he would be doing. He could almost see the bastard stomping through the block as Kim Dokja peered down the road.
More realistically, he’s walking home with a terrifying look on his face and scaring a coachman into giving him a free ride home, Kim Dokja felt one side of mouth curl up wickedly before he frowned deeply, Damn protagonists.
“Right, we can try this instead.” Kim Dokja compromised, getting to his feet with great effort, “Ah, we can…” He groaned and started over, “We can walk further in and wait for a carriage.”
Lee Gilyoung’s eyes lit up with recognition, “The ones you can pay for!” The boy stalled, looking Kim Dokja up and down, “…ah.”
The light left just as fast, and Kim Dokja had the urge to slap his cheeks to get a hold of himself as he grew increasingly hopeless. He didn’t have a wallet, so they had nothing to pay with if they were to hitch a ride. The only thing left to do was walk, but he doubted they would hold out for that long on zero hours of sleep—minus the skipped time spent forcibly unconscious—and without food or water.
He racked his brain again and again, but his ideas always came back to him as disproven. He threw out his last plan, but had his musings shut down by a pained groan right next to his ear. Kim Dokja jolted and whipped his head around to look at the quivering mess of white-hair.
Seriously!?
He’d joked about it a whole thirty minutes ago, but in reality, he didn’t want Bihyung to wake up so soon! Lee Gilyoung jumped and stifled a yelp of surprise, sliding away from Kim Dokja as far as the stairs would allow.
Bihyung’s face scrunched up in pain as he wailed, his unconsciousness wearing off by the second. The severe burns up and down his back punched needles into his raw skin. Kim Dokja angled his neck away to save his ears from potential deafness, frantically searching around for…? He didn’t even know what there was to find at this point.
“H-hyung, what do we do!?” Lee Gilyoung fretted, wavering between stepping closer to help or staying far away. It was a sensible thing because adults always seem to want the opposite of whatever choice a child makes, but not Kim Dokja, he’d take any help he could get!
Goddamn it, what can we do!?
Bihyung managed to jerk himself away, and Kim Dokja’s foot hit his other ankle in an attempt to stabilize himself. Half of his brain winced while the other half registered him stumbling and falling, head set to crash into the edge of the stairs.
No way. I already died once! A truck crash is more dignified than this!
He couldn’t believe his own snark as he felt the wind of gravity squeeze his eyes shut, imagining his head being split open like a bloodied watermelon.
“Woah!”
The humiliating exclamation slipped out of him before he could stop it. Kim Dokja was no longer falling, and felt a strong hand pull him upright from the shoulder and move to pat his back. Bihyung was still making small sounds of pain, but they quieted for a moment to let Kim Dokja blink his eyes open.
“You okay?”
Kim Dokja could only curve his lips around a mute thank you as he trailed his gaze upwards, past a hand that suddenly twisted away, a faded tie, an off white collar, and finally to a face whose composition was sharp and so unconventionally —but somehow inherently— beautiful it gave him pause. The unnamed woman scrutinized the group in front of her, a ragtag bunch consisting of a young boy and a nondescript-looking man with a rotisseried friend on his back.
“You guys look like…shit.” The newcomer mused aloud, snapping her mouth shut upon realizing her sudden comment.
Kim Dokja found his voice and cut in awkwardly, “Ah, thank you.”
“...For saying you guys look like shit?”
“No,” Kim Dokja deadpanned while straightening up, “For catching us.”
The woman mouthed an enlightened ‘oh’ and nodded, her sharply slanted eyes crinkling as she smiled, “Don’t thank me yet. I came over in the first place to offer you guys a place to rest for a bit. If you don’t mind following me, I could try and get my friend to patch you up as well.”
She gets right to the point, Kim Dokja observed critically.
Lee Gilyoung didn’t want to interrupt the conversation, but he couldn’t help but whisper a small, “Really?”
Hearing the excitement in Lee Gilyoung’s voice and feeling his own mental exhaustion leave him, Kim Dokja almost responded with the most enthusiastic affirmation of his life. His rationality stopped him like a red light, and he took a small step back.
“That’s very kind, but we can manage.” Kim Dokja reluctantly refused, shoving Bihyung up his back for the millionth time, making the ex-announcer groan.
Upon hearing this, the woman’s face scrunched up in understandable confusion before relaxing, making sense of Kim Dokja’s rationale.
Slowly, she explained, “I’m not going to…” She waved a hand in the air until she settled on an explanation, “take you to an alley and demand your money.”
I would hope not? Despite his building skepticism, Kim Dokja stayed his tongue, an impressive feat.
“My friend is a wandering doctor, and I work at the tavern just down there.” She pointed closely down the street, cracked with dried mud and dirt, to a building with a protruding sign, “I seriously just want to help. I couldn’t watch you guys wander around and give up.”
“You were watching us? Why come up to help now?” Kim Dokja interrogated. He knew he was being difficult, but in a strange and only slightly familiar world, he couldn’t take his chances with unknown characters like this woman.
For a split second, the stranger looked like she wanted to take Kim Dokja by the shoulders and shake some sense into him, but she soon thought better of it and sighed.
“You want the whole story?” She half-joked before realizing that Kim Dokja really did want the whole story, “...Okay? Uh, well, I was taking out the trash from the night before to prepare to open today, and noticed you two, er, three, making your way down the street while knocking on each door.”
Both Kim Dokja and Lee Gilyoung nodded almost simultaneously, and the woman took that as a sign to continue, “By the time I finished preparing to open, you guys were here.” She gestured with her chin, nodding her head down to their current spot, “I walked over, and that’s about it.”
Humming lightly in thought, Kim Dokja turned to Lee Gilyoung, who was already looking to him for an answer, and then to the newcomer. She looked strong, her forearm bulging as she crossed her arms, and was even only a centimeter below his height.
If she had bad intentions, Kim Dokja would have no choice but to hope he could wildly swing a fist and bolt away with Lee Gilyoung, dragging Bihyung along the road by the wrist.
“I get it. No one trusts anyone here. I’m thinking now that you lot might put me in danger too, believe it or not,” The woman articulated with full honesty.
It sounded nonsensical, considering the group’s current state, but to Kim Dokja, her confession made perfect sense. Her arms were folded over her chest, but while he turned to right himself a moment ago, he'd caught a glimpse of angry bruises lining her wrist. Where one mark healed, another festered. The implications were grim. Kim Dokja wondered if it was righteousness or intuition that told her to come to their rescue.
Upon realizing she'd probably said too much, the woman took a physical step back and looked askance.
“If you don’t want to head inside, I’ll grab some medicine while you stand by the door.”
She said her last sentence with unwavering insistence, different from when Kim Dokja noticed her voice to be overtly casual. It was all too good to be true, but in their predicament, it was better to take a new route than stick to one already tried.
If she tries to hurt us, at least I’m more prepared. I think a hammer to the head was warning enough to stay more vigilant.
Finally, Kim Dokja conceded, “We’re in your care then.”
The woman spun around to walk with a nod, but before that, Kim Dokja could have sworn he heard an exasperated and grateful sigh, “Tell that to my friend when we get there. You’re in good hands.”
He hadn’t agreed to follow her inside, but as he said, he might as well take the help he could get.
“Noted.”
With Kim Dokja’s last comment, the air between the group went silent. The stranger didn’t want to push for their story just yet, and Kim Dokja just didn’t have the strength to ask questions either. He walked a little slower for a moment to let Lee Gilyoung walk between the two adults.
“Wha…”
An intelligible sound ghosted Kim Dokja’s ear as they walked up to the tavern’s door. His eye almost twitched.
“Sorry, I didn’t ask for your name yet.” Kim Dokja apologized and pinched Bihyung’s forearm as a warning.
The woman smiled again, obviously glad Kim Dokja asked. As she pushed open the door to the tavern, she introduced herself charmingly, “My name’s Jung Heewon.”