The Genius Physician Princess

### Hanson burst into laughter.
“What? If I give you a few days, you can pay it back? Do you even remember how much debt you owe? You could work as a slave your whole life and never pay it off. Even now, the interest is piling up like a snowball!”
Bang!
Hanson kicked a nearby trash can.
Yeo-ul flinched, her body trembling. She felt tears welling up and bit the inside of her lip to hold them back.
‘This is too much!’
She was glad to be able to move again in her dream. Seeing Lantus in person was amazing. Helping him made her happy.
She even wished this dream was real.
But this?
‘How can someone be so cruel?’
She knew.
This was a dream, and the author made the Holy Kingdom villains in the novel.
But Yeo-ul couldn’t help but feel angry.
Everything felt so real.
‘And what’s this about being a test subject? I never created such a setting!’
Just then,
“Stop it, Hanson. Yelling at the kid won’t make money appear.”
A smooth yet oddly irritated voice came from behind Hanson.
Hanson, who was threatening Yeo-ul, turned around, startled as if doused with cold water.
A young man with navy blue hair and golden eyes stood there, leaning against the wall, clutching his right rib.
“M-Michael!”
Michael wore a mid-level priest’s robe, his tall and slender frame making him look like a male model.
“If you had rested in the carriage, I would have handled this quickly.”
Michael spoke slowly.
“I wanted to rest, but your pig-like shouting made it impossible.”
Michael’s tone was peculiar.
Though his words were gentle, the content was chilling.
“You’re busy enough. Why are you taking out your anger on this poor kid? It’s not their fault your divine power is weak.”
“I-I’m sorry.”
“If you live like that, it’s better to just… get lost, ugh, ha.”
Michael groaned, pressing his rib and taking deep breaths. Then, suddenly, he twisted his face in rage and spat out quickly.
“Damn Lantus. If he was going to attack the mausoleum, he should have done it when I was well. Now all the high priests are down, and there’s no one to treat me.”
Then, as if nothing had happened, he calmed his expression and exhaled deeply, like in meditation.
“Hoo.”
He then met Yeo-ul’s bewildered gaze.
“Hm?”
As if expecting it, he smiled softly and asked in his sweet voice.
“Little girl. Never seen a handsome man like me before?”
“Huh?”
“I understand. Everyone looks at me like that at first. But don’t be fooled by my looks. I’m a jerk. My dream is to leech off a rich woman.”
Yeo-ul’s mouth fell open at his kind explanation.
Not because she was charmed by Michael.
But because she knew exactly who he was, spouting nonsense to a kid like Hanson.
‘It’s Michael!’
Michael was quite an important character in ‘The Emperor of Ashes.’ He wasn’t prominent, but he made an impact.
The problem was…
‘I don’t know much about Michael!’
Michael could be summed up in one sentence:
A tragic hero with everything but his origin shrouded in mystery.
‘I don’t even know what’s behind the veil!’
Originally, Michael appeared only once, but his unique and ambiguous aura captivated her.
She planned to feature him a few more times and think about fitting settings.
‘The problem is, nothing is finalized.’
Yeo-ul knew three things for sure about Michael.
First, Michael had a chronic illness. The protagonist met him by treating this illness.
Second, he was secretly a black panther beast-man, hiding his identity as a priest in the Holy Kingdom. Sometimes, he turned into a black cat for fun.
Third, and most importantly, Michael was destined for a tragic death.
His concept was ‘a lonely death.’
But who killed Michael and why was never decided.
Yeo-ul’s brother liked Michael’s character so much that he wrote his final scene in advance.
In an empty room, Michael lay with a sword through his chest, in a pool of blood. His whole body was cold, no longer feeling any pain. In his last moments, he felt only one thing.
A deep sense of longing.
A tear trickled down his smiling face.
「…I miss you.」
His trembling eyelids closed.
It was a lonely end, with no one to mourn him.
Yeo-ul felt like tearing her hair out.
‘Who did he miss!’
Unaware of his predestined tragic end, Michael asked kindly.
“Little girl. You said you could pay back the debt in a few days? How much do you owe?”
“Uh, well, that is…”
Not knowing the exact amount and confused by the original author, Yeo-ul couldn’t answer properly.
Michael casually gestured to Hanson.
“Show me the patient’s file.”
“Here it is, Michael.”
Hanson quickly pulled out a file and handed it over politely.
Michael glanced at the cover and looked at Hanson coldly.
“You open it. Can’t you see my hands are busy?”
Michael’s hand was still clutching his rib.
“Are you blind? Want me to pull out your useless eyes?”
“S-sorry! I’ll get it right away!”
“Stop shaking. You’ll tear the file. Should I cut your hands off with your eyes and tongue?”
“Here, this page, Michael!”
Hanson handed over the file with a shaky breath.
Michael looked at the still trembling file and muttered.
“Maybe I should just kill him.”
Finally, the file settled, and Michael began to read.
“Fever and cough were the main symptoms. I see, they failed the treatment but still demanded payment.”
Michael looked at Yeo-ul with pity.
“I apologize on behalf of the Holy Kingdom. There are quite a few trash priests among us.”
Then he turned back to the file.
“My condolences for your mother’s tragedy, huu. huhu.”
Michael’s apology snapped Yeo-ul back to reality.
She noticed his condition worsening since he first appeared.
His white temple was covered in sweat.
A sign he was enduring significant pain.
Knowing Michael’s illness, Yeo-ul couldn’t help but worry.
Meanwhile, Michael continued.
“Let’s see. The debt is 3 billion gold, and the monthly interest is 10 million gold. You think you can pay this in a few days? I understand wanting to escape, but dragging it out will only increase the debt…”
“Um, are you okay?”
“Hm?”
“Aren’t you in pain?”
Michael’s illness was pneumothorax.
Pneumothorax is when air escapes the lung and fills the space outside it, pressing on the lung and making it hard to breathe.
It often occurs in young, thin men like Michael, and if left untreated, it can lead to an attack.
‘That’s called tension pneumothorax.’
A tension pneumothorax attack causes the lung to collapse entirely, making breathing nearly impossible, and the collapsed lung can press on the heart, potentially leading to death.
The novel’s protagonist experienced two of Michael’s attacks, saving him with emergency measures the first time and performing surgery the second.
‘Pneumothorax has a high recurrence rate.’
Of course, he wouldn’t have an attack right now.
The protagonist met Michael much later. This crisis must have been resolved with another priest’s help.
Knowing this, Yeo-ul was still worried seeing him in such pain.
Michael smirked.
“How sweet. But you should worry about your grim future. How do you plan to pay that huge debt? It’s not like money will fall from the sky.”
Yeo-ul, who had won 32 billion gold an hour ago, swallowed nervously.
“I can get treatment in two days. If Lantus hadn’t messed with the mausoleum, I wouldn’t have to wait…”
Yeo-ul, who received a mark from Lantus two hours ago, clasped her trembling hands.
“Magicians can heal themselves with magic. Divine power can only heal others…”
Just then.
“…Hic.”
Michael began gasping for air.
“Hic.”
He seemed unable to breathe, stumbling and collapsing to the side.
It was a pneumothorax attack.