The Crown Prince That Sells Medicine

Chapter 23



The Crown Prince That Sells Medicine Chapter 23

Episode 23. A disease that gets better if you don’t support it (1)

It hurts.

I always feel extreme pain after seeing blood.

I don’t know why.

Because of the vengeful spirits of those who have fallen under my sword? Or is it because of the aftereffects of repeated training, considering rest as a luxury? If not, is it because of the money bag that still seems bottomless even though we are fighting so hard?

However, what is certain is that when this pain comes, medicine is definitely needed. Some people call it a painkiller, others call it a bad drug.

‘But why is that…’

Is it being held by a person I’ve never seen who entered the waiting room out of nowhere? Besides, why is that guy looking at my medicine and spouting nonsense?

“Tsk tsk. Too bad. Why do you take these cheap painkillers? “Can you sleep after eating something like this?”

“…what?”

Damien Cayenne felt dumbfounded.

He’s a stranger.

How did I get in here?

Gladiator official?

It didn’t seem like it.

At first glance, he seemed like a corrupt guy.

So I couldn’t understand.

“who are you.”

Damian’s eyes cooled down. The answer that came back was immediate.

“The person you need.”

“Is this guy here to sell drugs?”

Maybe so.

Most gladiators live with pain. Painkillers are also common. That’s why there were people like this sometimes. He was the type of person who tried to defraud gladiators by claiming that he had a good medicine.

As expected, the crazy guy in front of me immediately nodded.

“Oh, it’s similar. “It’s not a bad feeling.”

As expected.

Damien lost interest.

These guys have already been through a lot. I thought there was no need to listen any further.

He frowned.

“Put down the vial and get out of there before I cut off your wrist. If it’s already medicine….”

“There is enough? Do you think so? Are you satisfied with these cheap drugs? really?”

“What kind of nonsense are you talking about now….”

“I came because I had something to say, not Lee.”

“kill.”

“Then I will never be able to get rid of the tingling pain in the back of my head.”

“….”

“Symptoms usually start in the back of the head. The back of my neck and head stiffen and tingle. Doesn’t the radiating pain spread to the entire back of your head and shoulders?”

“….”

“In severe cases, the pain spreads through the temples to the forehead and eyelids. When that happens, I get goosebumps and break out into a cold sweat. It hurts like my eyeballs are going to pop out. The funny thing is that the pain comes like waves and then subsides over and over again. That’s what drives people crazy again. “You could say it’s a hell where the torture of hope continues, even though it seems like it’s over now.”

“How did you…”

“Do you know?”

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Rachiel grinned.

How do you know?

I know because I read the novel.

‘That’s why I recited almost the exact text that described the symptoms in Demon Sword Emperor.’

Then?

Damian, who had always been prickly, reacted with shock for the first time. It was a very desirable(?) progress in conversation.

So, what about times like this?

We need to be more shameless.

Rakiel had a triple embossed iron plate placed all over her face.

“Those symptoms are obvious. Trauma, blood stagnation, and sinheo cause obstruction to the circulation of the meridians that pass through the back of the neck.”

“….”

“But I didn’t think about removing the cause of the pain. Because you only rely on these narcotic painkillers, you continue to be in pain. Are painkillers medicine? No. “Absolutely not.”

“….”

“It’s always like this. “I heard there are people like you.”

Rachiel clicked her tongue in genuine regret.

It’s foolish to only look for painkillers when you’re sick. Damian wasn’t the only one to blame. If you think about it, we have seen many cases like this in Korea as well.

My father and mother were very persistent and hard-working, so I felt sorry for them. While working to feed my children, I often just looked for painkillers when I got sick. There are many cases where people say that going to a big hospital will cost money, so they only look for painkillers and put on plasters, but they end up worsening the disease.

“So, that’s right. I spilled soup all over the floor. Is it okay to just cover it with a blanket? No. If you’re in pain but don’t think about solving it and instead rely on narcotic painkillers, you’ll only end up having more trouble. “Isn’t that right?”

“….”

“If you have a mouth, please answer me, you pitiful, stupid person.”

“….”

Damian started crying without realizing it. No, I almost got angry. It was extremely unfair. He was just as usual. I was just resting after catching a troll. I was thinking about taking some medicine because I felt like I was going to feel the same pain after a sword fight as usual.

However, a complete stranger who I had never heard of entered the waiting room and was scolding me.

‘why me?’

Should I be admonished by this guy? Damian mixed up the doubts, absurdity, and resentment that were welling up from a well deep in the mountains, and uttered them in just one question.

“…Who are you to say something like that?”

Who on earth is this?

Come this far.

Are you doing this?

If you don’t answer properly this time, I will really cut you down. Damian made a promise and pulled the handle of his sword.

Soon the crazy guy answered.

“Prince.”

“….”

“It’s true.”

“….”

I guess I should kill him.

Damian’s grip on the sword handle tightened. At that time, fortunately, the crazy guy smiled.

“It’s a joke. “Actually, Mr. Koosman sent it.”

“Kusman?”

“okay. “Your promoter.”

“….”

“I guess I’ll have some faith now.”

“….”

Damian’s grip on the sword hilt loosened slightly. Rachiel inwardly breathed a sigh of relief.

‘Thank goodness it worked.’

Koosman.

That was the name of Damien’s promoter. At the same time, it was a name that anyone who was not closely related to the gladiatorial arena here would never know.

‘of course. ‘There needs to be a promoter for the gladiatorial arena to function.’

To put it simply, a promoter was a middleman in an underground gladiatorial arena. Just as a real estate agent connects tenants with landlords, and just as publishing management connects writers with serial platforms, promoters connect gladiators with gladiatorial arenas and coordinate match schedules.

Instead, the gladiator received 30% of the fight fee as a commission. In addition, the promoter provided lodging and lodging for the gladiators. Training locations and various conveniences were also provided for a fee.

‘That’s the problem. ‘What makes promoters vicious, unlike real estate agents or publishers, is that narcotic painkillers are among the amenities they provide for a fee.’

Narcotic analgesics.

That was the biggest problem.

Gladiators always needed painkillers. Promoters would sell narcotic painkillers at exorbitant prices under the pretext of exclusive supply.

‘Thanks to this, most gladiators are unable to save money no matter how much they fight. Most of my income is wasted on expensive narcotic painkillers. No, the majority of people are quite fortunate even if they don’t have debt.’

Fighting is done by gladiators.

Blood is shed by gladiators.

All the money goes to the promoter.

But there was no gladiator who could escape the vicious cycle. By the time you realize the absurdity that has entangled you? This was because he had already become an addict to narcotic painkillers.

Rachiel recalled her memories in more detail. In particular, I remembered the scenes in the novel Demon Sword Emperor where Damian’s exclusive promoter Kusman appears.

The lines and prints in it.

Situations that Damien experienced.

I recalled all that information and combined it. I mixed it up and processed it into plausible lies. After completing the warm-up exercise, I loaded the gun with a sharp chop.

And fired.

“Mr. Koosman said that earlier. They complained. “I heard that I’m starting to have trouble taking this medicine these days.”

“….”

“So Mr. Koosman seemed to be having a hard time too. It is a painkiller that must be supplied to other gladiators under management, so it is difficult to reduce the quantity further. Because the season is seasonal and it is not the poppy harvest season, it is difficult to steal the extra money. “You probably know this because you heard it from Mr. Koosman, right?”

“…What do you want to say?”

“There is a way to relieve the pain other than these painkillers.”

“A new way? “Can you do it for me?”

“That’s why I came.”

“Mr. Koosman sent you? really?”

“uh.”

“What is the cost?”

“We’ll meet Mr. Koosman later and talk separately. “I have already received my share of compensation.”

I made a joke.

It really seemed like it was sent by Damian’s promoter Koosman. Damian’s gaze deepened as he looked at Rachiel.

“….”

Something is strange.

The way he talks doesn’t sound like he’s from down here either. But what’s even more strange is that he knows the relationship between himself and promoter Kusman.

That was the strangest thing.

‘No one knows about Kusman’s existence… other than contracted gladiators or key officials of the gladiatorial arena.’

However, he calmly mentions Kusman’s name. That guy even mentioned things that happened between him and Kusman.

Suddenly, an evening from a few days ago came to mind. It was the night when twenty goblins were cut down in the gladiatorial arena. Koosman asked for more painkillers.

He says medicine doesn’t work well these days.

I can’t sleep.

However, Kusman expressed his disapproval.

It’s difficult to separate the quantity these days. The other gladiators he manages also have their fair share of duties. Because the season is seasonal and it is not the poppy harvest season, it is difficult to steal the extra money.

‘But those words… that guy recited them accurately.’

The meaning was self-evident.

This means that this guy was really sent by Kusman. Damian finally put the sword hilt aside.

“Then let me ask you something. “Did you bring a new medicine other than painkillers?”

“no.”

Rachiel grinned.

It came over. Yabawi, which was prepared with great ambition, is working. He said it with that confidence.

“The pain you are experiencing cannot be treated with medicine. I told you. “The cause must be eliminated.”

“It’s the cause… so if you remove it, the pain won’t recur?”

“uh.”

“I think it’s too easy to guarantee.”

“You better check for yourself whether it’s a joke or not.”

“What kind of method is this?”

Damian asked.

Rakiel’s glaring smile became even deeper.

“First, take off your top and lie down.”

“…what?”

“I need to get treatment. Don’t die. “Are you scared?”

“Of course…”

“Then I told you to take it off first.”

“….”

Damian looked at us with eyes full of distrust. I accepted that look calmly. The guy finally sighed. I took off my top shirt. A slim yet well-developed muscular upper body was revealed.

How much did you fight in the underground gladiatorial arena? His body was covered in wounds all over. However, Rachiel’s gaze was not directed at Damian’s muscles or scars. Instead, I focused on Damian’s left back. There was a clear stigma there.

A brand carved in a gladiatorial arena.

It was the mark of a gladiator.

‘As expected, it exists.’

It was just like what I saw in the novel illustration.

That stigma is the cause.

That was the cause of the hellish pain that tormented Damian so much at the beginning of the novel Demon Sword Emperor. The occipital neuralgia he suffered from was merely a resultant condition. Rachiel quickly adjusted her expression and eyes and spoke.

“Why are you staying so quiet? Lie down on the bed. Relax and relax. “Only then can treatment begin.”

“…Maybe you want to give me a massage or something?”

“That’s not it.”

“then?”

Damian bows down and gives a suspicious look. Rachiel smiled meaningfully as she received that gaze.

A brand engraved on Damien’s back.

That thing needs to be removed.

But that stigma just won’t go away. Cutting it with a knife or peeling off its skin is useless. Because there is a curse inside.

How to remove that curse?

There is only one way.

‘Because it was engraved with hot heat, it has to be burned with the same heat.’

Rachiel put her hand into her bosom.

I took out the secret weapon I had prepared for this moment. An unidentifiable dark green lump about half the size of a fist. Rakiel smiled sweetly, showing it off and hitting the bed with her palm.

“Welcome, is this your first time using moxibustion?”


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