Perhaps, she thinks wearily, she should have specialized in something other than magical medicine. Her former New Sinsi University (Magical Division, of course) classmates seem to be doing well, from what she can decipher through the smiling posts on social media. Yuna, her old roommate, is the city’s top glamourist—and paid in the hundreds of thousands. Jinny, Yuna’s sister, has fulfilled her lifelong dream of being a god’s assistant, running errands for none other than Yongwang the sea god himself and even residing in Okhwang. Kisa’s rival Kim Dae, with whom she was always competing for top marks in the specialty, now works in Hallakkungi’s flower garden and is part of the flower god’s prestigious botanical research team, which is famous for their contributions to pharmacology. None were foolish enough to go directly into magical medicine. It’s at least ten times more difficult, more dangerous, than mortal medicine—the dissimilar internal anatomies of dokkaebi versus imoogi, versus gumiho versus demigods, is only one example of the many, many differences.

Oh, taking this job so soon was a grievous error on her part, a flaunting of her own brilliance. Yoo Kisa, top of her NSUMD class. Yoo Kisa, a prestigious doctor, diving into the hospital mere minutes after graduation. Practically unheard of for a twenty-two-year-old shaman to skip the additional four years of medical training, but Kisa was just that good. One of her professors had fondly referred to her as the “nucleus” of NSUMD’s graduating class of 2017. A powerhouse.

And it’s true.

NSUMD is renowned for taking “prestigious” and “cutthroat” to another level entirely. In any mortal university, sabotage would have been frowned upon. In the Magical Division, it had been encouraged. Kisa is unable to count the number of times her laboratory experiments had been tampered with…or the number of times she’d returned the favor in full. There was no punishment for physical altercations, either. Shamans were in constant competition with one another, egged on by their patron deities. The gods may not be able to fight amongst themselves, or do anything to disrupt Okhwang’s inner harmony, but their shamans? Through their shamans, the gods can be as nasty as they please.

Yet despite it all, Kisa did more than succeed. She excelled.

She could read a massive tome on history within four days and write a dissertation on the subject within three weeks. Her hand flew up in every class, and she received nothing less than top marks every semester. Channeling the power of her patron goddess, Samsin Halmoni, is something Kisa is remarkably adept at. A good mother heals, after all—chicken noodle soup, bandages, kisses on the head—and for Kisa, who had longed to be an obstetrician since her own mother died in childbirth, connecting with the goddess of childbirth comes smoothly, and so does channeling Samsin Halmoni’s magic into her work.