A Surgeon Who Uses Martial Arts [EN]: Chapter 73

The Unpaid Debt (6)

Second-floor doctor’s lounge.

“Ugh.”

Associate Professor Dong-hui of the Hand Surgery Department sat on the sofa, leaning back comfortably.

Unlike other surgeries, hand surgeries were performed while seated.

However, maintaining a straight back and leaning the head forward for extended periods put a significant strain on the body.

Perhaps that’s why.

The moment he could sit comfortably like this was a blessing for Dong-hui.

“I guess I’m getting old. To be worn out by a finger reattachment surgery.”

“Every time you say things like that, Professor, my heart sinks. Here, have this.”

Jun-seok, a professor in the Hand Surgery Department who had assisted in the surgery, pulled a drink from the vending machine and handed it to Dong-hui.

Dong-hui accepted the drink.

“Thank you. I’ll enjoy it.”

“You’re welcome. Is your neck feeling any better?”

“It’s still bearable.”

Dong-hui said, stroking his neck with one hand.

Dong-hui had a cervical disc issue.

It wasn’t severe, but it was getting worse.

However, his surgery schedule was so packed that he couldn’t even think about getting treatment.

“We need some bright young talents to apply soon. I’m really worried.”

“There probably weren’t any applicants for hand surgery this year, right?”

“Yes, there weren’t. Not since last year.”

Jun-seok replied with a gloomy expression.

To apply for hand surgery, one had to obtain a specialist certification in orthopedics or neurosurgery.

Then, a 1-year fellowship.

And a 1-year hand surgery specialist training.

A total of 2 years of additional experience was required to apply.

However, most surgeons avoided hand surgery.

Incredibly challenging surgery.

Disproportionately low compensation compared to the difficulty and effort.

As a result, surgeons tended to avoid specializing in hand surgery.

While reattaching severed body parts.

They could earn more money by performing several other surgeries.

“I’m worried that hand surgery specialists might become extinct.”

“Then you and I will have to keep operating until we become hunched-over old men.”

“Ugh. Don’t say such scary things.”

Jun-seok shuddered and continued.

“By the way, you were praising the intern who was assisting with the surgery earlier… Was there any particular reason?”

“Ah, Jun-hoo. That friend?”

“Yes. I was surprised to hear you praising him when he didn’t really do much.”

“You wouldn’t understand since you don’t know the inside story…”

Even now, Dong-hui was amazed when he thought back to that time.

The fact that Jun-hoo had called him at the perfect timing, without obstructing the blood vessel anastomosis [surgical connection between two blood vessels].

And that he had wiped away his sweat with an attentiveness that was uncharacteristic of an intern.

This deserved high praise.

Interns who came into finger reattachment surgeries were usually unfocused.

Many would doze off or even stand and sleep because they had so little to do.

But Jun-hoo was different.

He maintained sharp concentration throughout the assistance. His eyes sparkled, and his hands were quick.

“Ah. So that’s what happened. I had no idea.”

Only after hearing Dong-hui’s detailed explanation did Jun-seok nod.

“Are you perhaps interested in that friend?”

“Of course. You can tell a lot from one thing. If he specializes in hand surgery, he’ll definitely become a great success.”

Dong-hui had recognized Jun-hoo’s potential early on.

If possible, he wanted to make Jun-hoo his successor before he retired.

“But I don’t know if that friend will specialize in hand surgery.”

“That’s what I’m saying. If there’s a connection, we might see him again. If there’s a connection.”

Dong-hui muttered while drinking his beverage.

A lonely voice echoed.

* * *

After the reattachment surgery.

Jun-hoo was heading down to the emergency room.

It wasn’t to see a patient, but for other business.

While moving, Jun-hoo diligently practiced the Yangsu-hobak technique [a fictional martial arts technique].

He didn’t care about the piercing gazes from those around him.

Since assisting with the finger reattachment surgery, Jun-hoo’s motivation had burned even hotter.

He wanted to use both hands as skillfully as a hand surgeon.

He was motivated to use both hands as meticulously as a hand surgeon.

[Goal: Successfully perform ABGA blood draw [Arterial Blood Gas Analysis] with the left hand by the end of this month]

Jun-hoo set a specific goal and focused on Yangsu-hobak.

It had been four days since he started training.

His left-hand proficiency was still at rock bottom, but the number of times his hands got tangled was faintly decreasing.

Slowly but surely, Jun-hoo was growing.

Come to think of it, orthopedics is quite charming.

In general surgery, a sturdy and strong aspect like a carpenter is needed.

In reattachment surgery, a more delicate and meticulous technique is required.

In today’s terms, Jun-hoo was becoming deeply immersed in orthopedics.

While heading down to the emergency room.

Jun-hoo suddenly had such a thought.

What if he could master all the necessary medical skills in the modern world and then experience the Murim world [a fictional world of martial arts] again?

Then, wouldn’t he be able to prevent the deaths and injuries of his colleagues that he had to helplessly watch?

It would be great if he could raise his level and even perform surgery with an energy sword.

No.

Let’s put aside the lingering attachments.

Let’s put aside the fantasies.

Jun-hoo steadied his wavering heart. What he needed to focus on was his current life, his modern life.

Jun-hoo arrived at the emergency room and scanned his surroundings.

The emergency room was still as chaotic as ever.

The number of patients waiting for treatment was over 30, and the staff were busily moving between beds and stations.

Perhaps it was because he had spent more time working in the emergency room than in orthopedics.

The atmosphere felt more familiar in the emergency room.

“Ah-young, are you busy?”

“Oh? Jun-hoo.”

When Jun-hoo spoke, Ah-young, who was entering charts at the station, turned to look at Jun-hoo.

“I’m a bit busy right now.”

“Really? It’s hard for me to find time other than now. Senior So-jin, can I borrow Ah-young for a moment?”

Jun-hoo asked So-jin, who was passing by.

So-jin was a third-year resident in emergency medicine and a senior who liked Jun-hoo.

“What is this? Are you allowed to be so openly affectionate?”

“We’re not like that. Please? It’ll only take 10 minutes.”

“I’ll let it slide because it’s you, Jun-hoo. Ah-young, go out with Jun-hoo for a bit.”

“Thank you, Senior.”

Thanks to Jun-hoo’s connections(?), the two were able to spend some time in the lounge.

“How’s working in the emergency department?”

“How should I put it? It feels like I’m being chased around. I feel like everything’s getting tangled up because I’m trying to see patients and administer treatments.”

“I was like that at first too. But if it’s you, Ah-young, I’m sure you’ll do a great job.”

Jun-hoo encouraged Ah-young. But he wasn’t just saying empty words.

Ah-young had been known as a smart cookie since medical school.

She was quick and meticulous in her work.

She used to get nervous enough to have hyperventilation syndrome at the college entrance exam, but.

Ever since she dreamed of becoming a cardiothoracic surgeon, even that was gone.

She had even bravely endured cadaver practice.

“How’s orthopedics?”

Ah-young asked Jun-hoo.

“Very satisfying. I guess I’m just suited for surgery. I’m happiest when I’m scrubbing in for surgery.”

“It really seems like it. You’re smiling right now.”

“Was it that obvious? Anyway, did you happen to get what I asked for…?”

“Of course, I bought it. Just wait a moment.”

Ah-young, who had left the lounge and returned, was holding something wrapped in packaging.

The object was none other than an animation character scholar doll.

Yesterday evening, Jun-hoo had asked Ah-young, who was off, to buy him a scholar doll.

The reason was simple.

He wanted to give the doll to Gun-woo as a gift.

He thought that holding a doll of a favorite character might provide some comfort to Gun-woo’s lonely hospital life.

“You’re really amazing, Jun-hoo. You even meticulously take care of gifts for patients.”

Ah-young said in admiration.

“Now that I know the situation, I can’t just let it pass. Imagine if I were in Gun-woo’s position. How tormented he must be right now. That young child.”

Jun-hoo finished speaking and looked at Ah-young.

He felt a little embarrassed because he thought he was being too emotional.

“Do I seem like I’m meddling too much?”

“No. I like that side of you, Jun-hoo. The way you kindly care for others.”

Ah-young continued calmly.

“I owe you a big debt too, you know? If you hadn’t helped me during the college entrance exam, I probably wouldn’t be here.”

“I just did what was natural, that’s all.”

Jun-hoo shrugged his shoulders.

The fact that he could help others was a great joy for Jun-hoo.

In the Murim world, he could only cut down villains.

That’s all he knew how to do.

But still.

What good is it to cut down a hundred villains if you can’t protect one precious person?

Jun-hoo now had that kind of mindset.

“You took time out of your precious off-day to fulfill my request, so I can’t just let it pass.”

Jun-hoo continued, pulling up his doctor’s gown.

“It’s time for a special massage after a long time.”

“Shouldn’t you go back up to the ward soon? Are you sure it’s okay?”

“There are no calls yet. Interns are supposed to rest skillfully.”

Jun-hoo focused on applying pressure points to Ah-young’s head, shoulders, and waist.

Ah-young, who had often received Jun-hoo’s massages since medical school, accepted Jun-hoo’s touch without resistance.

* * *

Arriving at the pediatric ward, Jun-hoo headed straight to the room where Gun-woo was.

Standing in front of the door and looking into the room.

Gun-woo was fast asleep.

Across from Gun-woo, a man with a sharp impression was looking at Gun-woo.

That person seemed to be Gun-woo’s father.

He had spoken with the father once in the morning. He had informed him in advance about Gun-woo’s mother’s abuse.

Gun-woo was one thing, but.

The pain that Gun-woo’s father must be feeling now would be no less.

His wife abused his child.

He was a father, yet he didn’t know that his child was being abused…

How could he express that self-reproach and despair in words?

Creak.

Jun-hoo opened the hospital room door and stood next to Gun-woo’s father.

“Excuse me, can I talk to you for a moment?”

“Are you perhaps the teacher who called this morning?”

“Yes, that’s right. Gun-woo might wake up, so let’s go this way.”

Jun-hoo moved to the window in the hallway and spoke with Gun-woo’s father, Gi-seok.

According to Gi-seok, Gun-woo had regained much of his stability, at least in appearance.

At first, he was afraid that his mother would reappear and harm him.

He cried and cried about the accumulated grievances, but soon calmed down.

Through the conversation, Jun-hoo also obtained new information.

Gun-woo’s mother was actually his stepmother.

Gi-seok was a famous restaurant chef who came home late and couldn’t take good care of Gun-woo.

“Then the restaurant work is…?”

“I have to quit until Gun-woo gets healthy. From now on, Gun-woo is my top priority in life.”

“…”

“It’s not like I don’t have any savings.”

Gi-seok said confidently, as if he wouldn’t repeat his mistakes.

Jun-hoo liked that confident attitude.

Finally, Gun-woo had someone to lean on besides the scholar.

“It’s all thanks to you, teacher. If you hadn’t been there, our Gun-woo would still be in hell.”

Gi-seok bowed his head 90 degrees and continued.

“Thank you for saving Gun-woo. Thank you for saving me. How can I repay this kindness…?”

“You’re saying obvious things. You have to repay the debt properly today.”

“Would it be okay to give you some compensation?”

“Oh, would that little bit of money be enough?”

Jun-hoo said with a smile.

“If you want to repay the kindness, please take good care of Gun-woo. That’s all I ask.”

“Ah… Teacher…”

“And this is a gift for Gun-woo. Don’t mention me, and say that his father bought it.”

Jun-hoo handed Gi-seok the doll wrapped in packaging.

“Why should I say that I bought it when you bought it?”

Gi-seok tilted his head as if he didn’t understand.

“Gun-woo will trust and follow his father more if his father gives him a gift.”

“Such a deep meaning… Still, shouldn’t Gun-woo know your heart?”

Jun-hoo shook his head from side to side at Gi-seok’s point.

And he pointed to the ceiling with his index finger.

“I know, his father knows, and the sky knows. Isn’t that enough for everyone who needs to know?”