A Surgeon Who Uses Martial Arts [EN]: Chapter 212

Chapter 40: Suspicion (2)

The funeral hall at Shinwon University Hospital was a three-story building.

The dark, grayish-white color of the building created a somber atmosphere.

Near the entrance on the first floor, two men in black suits were smoking.

They seemed to be family members of the deceased.

Jun-hoo thought that those two might be burning inside rather than just smoking.

Even a normal farewell is painful, but an eternal one…

As he got closer to the funeral hall, Jun-hoo’s steps became slower and heavier.

The death of patient Min Tae-woong, which he had only felt through charts, was now beginning to hit him on a personal level.

He passed through the entrance and entered the lobby of the funeral hall.

Perhaps because it was a weekday morning,

there weren’t many people in the lobby. There were two staff members and about three or four mourners.

Jun-hoo’s gaze lingered on the electronic display board. A familiar name quickly caught his eye.

It was a name he never wanted to see in a funeral hall.

Suddenly, his chest felt a sharp pain.

As if he had been cut by the blade of Jeok Il-do [a fictional or metaphorical blade, implying a sharp, piercing pain].

Jun-hoo trudged up to the second floor via the central staircase.

He arrived at the mourning room 203, paid his condolences, and wrote his name in the registry.

He took off his shoes, placed them in the shoe rack, and headed into the mourning room.

The bereaved family and relatives, dressed in mourning clothes, were gathered at the side of the room.

The eyes of the bereaved were swollen from crying so much.

The bereaved noticed Jun-hoo and bowed his head.

Jun-hoo also bowed his head.

He approached the incense burner and lit the incense first.

The white smoke fluttered precariously. Jun-hoo suddenly thought that human life was as fleeting and precarious as the smoke from the incense he was burning.

Jun-hoo performed two full bows and one half bow toward the deceased [a traditional Korean mourning ritual].

He also performed a full bow toward the bereaved.

“My deepest condolences for your loss.”

“Life is so fleeting. I never thought my husband would leave this world so suddenly.”

The bereaved said in a choked voice.

“I think my husband and I have endured until now thanks to you, Doctor. You even helped with the medical expenses out of your own pocket.”

“……”

“You often came to the hospital room and talked to us. Thank you again, Doctor.”

“It was nothing. What did I do? You must be very upset and confused?”

Jun-hoo asked, understanding the bereaved’s feelings.

In the Murim world [referring to a world of martial arts and warriors, likely from a previous experience or story element], Jun-hoo had witnessed his father and many colleagues in the Murim Alliance get injured and die.

So he knew better than anyone the sense of loss, sorrow, and pain when losing a loved one.

Wasn’t that why he chose to become a surgeon, because he didn’t want to experience that pain again?

“Yes. I didn’t know when I went to pay condolences to acquaintances… It feels different when I’m the chief mourner. It feels like someone is stirring my head and heart.”

“You will overcome it well. I believe so.”

“Do you think so?”

The bereaved’s gaze turned to the portrait of her husband, smiling brightly. Jun-hoo also turned his gaze to the portrait.

In the photo, patient Min Tae-woong was smiling like a flower.

It was a smile Jun-hoo had never seen in the hospital room.

A smile he would never see again.

“I have something to ask you… Would that be alright?”

“Yes, please go ahead.”

“Before the patient passed away, did you notice any presence in the hospital room?”

“Presence?”

The bereaved tilted his head at the unexpected question.

“It could be the sound of footsteps. Well, any small sound is fine.”

“Well, I fell asleep on the temporary bed for the guardian… I woke up when the nurse woke me up. But why do you ask?”

“I was just talking nonsense. I was just suddenly curious.”

Jun-hoo smiled awkwardly.

In fact, the intention of the question was clear.

If this case was a murder case.

And if the culprit was Si-hoo.

Si-hoo must have broken into the hospital room.

Jun-hoo wanted to find that evidence.

Unfortunately, he didn’t find anything.

“As you know, Doctor, the hospital room we used was quiet.”

“That’s right. There was no one snoring, and most of the people around were elderly.”

“Wouldn’t I have noticed if someone came in?”

“That’s true.”

Jun-hoo nodded as if he understood.

He had shared enough greetings, so it was okay to leave, but Jun-hoo somehow couldn’t bring himself to leave.

There was one more suggestion he wanted to make to the bereaved.

But he was seriously 고민 [gomin – Korean for ‘hesitating’ or ‘contemplating’] whether to make that suggestion or not.

-Are you thinking of performing an autopsy on the patient?

The suggestion Jun-hoo wanted to make was an autopsy.

If an autopsy was performed, it could be determined with certainty whether the patient died of natural causes or was murdered.

If Si-hoo had caused the patient’s death with drugs.

The truth could only be revealed through an autopsy.

But he wondered if that was the right thing to do.

First of all, there was no clear evidence that Si-hoo had committed the crime.

If he pushed for an autopsy and no results came out, the bereaved would surely resent Jun-hoo for suggesting the autopsy.

The bereaved, who was barely 정리 [jeongri – Korean for ‘organizing’ or ‘settling’] his mind, would be hurt again.

However, he couldn’t shake off the uneasy feeling if he passed the case without an autopsy.

He felt like he was letting Si-hoo, who might be the culprit, go free.

“Is there anything else you want to say…?”

The bereaved asked first when Jun-hoo hesitated.

To suggest an autopsy.

Not to suggest an autopsy.

In a short moment, Jun-hoo’s mind went back and forth between the two decisions dozens of times.

After finally making a decision.

Jun-hoo looked straight at the bereaved’s face.

He held the bereaved’s hands in his own.

“Bereaved.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

“I believe you will overcome this ordeal well. Stay strong.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

Jun-hoo said goodbye to the bereaved and left the mourning room.

He went down to the first-floor lobby.

In the end, he decided not to suggest an autopsy.

Because he didn’t want to stir up the bereaved’s heart.

And in the distant future, Jun-hoo would come to know that this choice was a good thing to do.

That there are also illusions like fate in the world.

* * *

Jun-hoo didn’t know how that afternoon passed.

Because the thought of losing a precious patient didn’t leave his mind.

Apart from his head and emotions being numb.

Jun-hoo perfectly performed surgery assists and order entries.

So much so that no one around him noticed that his mentality was shaking.

It was the horror and power of habit.

When he came to his senses, it was already 4 p.m.

Sunshine was pouring in from the window.

Jun-hoo was entering charts in the on-call room.

He skipped lunch, but he wasn’t particularly hungry.

His stomach didn’t hurt either.

It must have been because his heart was more empty than his stomach.

In the end, there were no more clues.

I guess I have to end it like this.

Jun-hoo smiled bitterly as he looked at the monitor.

He had conducted additional investigations under the assumption that Si-hoo might be the culprit.

Jun-hoo asked the patients and guardians who shared the hospital room with patient Min Tae-woong.

If they had heard anything at the time of the incident.

Everyone said they hadn’t heard anything.

He had also searched the medical waste in the on-call room and station. If Si-hoo had used drugs, there might have been traces left.

Unfortunately, there were no traces left.

Whether there were really no traces left.

Or whether they had already been cleaned up like ghosts, there was no way to know.

Jun-hoo stared at patient Min Tae-woong’s chart for a long time.

The phrase that a death certificate was needed was still flashing.

Was it because he wasn’t ready to send the patient away?

He couldn’t bring himself to touch the keyboard.

It was as if there was a 반탄력 [bantanryeok – Korean for ‘repulsive force’ or ‘elasticity’] on the keyboard, pushing Jun-hoo’s hand away.

Drrr-

The door of the on-call room opened just in time.

The person who appeared was none other than Si-hoo.

The moment he saw Si-hoo, complex emotions surged like waves.

Anger, suspicion, displeasure, and so on.

There wasn’t a single good emotion among the emotions related to Si-hoo.

“It’s hard to see you today, Senior.”

“Because I had surgeries scheduled back-to-back in the morning and afternoon. You haven’t issued the death certificate yet.”

Si-hoo came over, checked Jun-hoo’s monitor, and said.

Since we’re alone.

Should I poke him properly?

It’s worth a try, right?

Deciding to conduct a sting operation, Jun-hoo put his hand in his gown pocket.

He skillfully activated the recorder app without looking at his phone.

“Senior, why did you do that?”

“What?”

“You’re the one who killed patient Min Tae-woong, aren’t you?”

Jun-hoo stood up from his seat and stood facing Si-hoo. From now on, acting was important.

“What nonsense are you talking about? I killed the patient?”

“Yes. You can fool other people’s eyes, but you can’t fool mine. You went straight to work on the day I, the eyesore, was off.”

“Seo Jun-hoo. That’s too harsh?”

“Shall I recite what you did in the early morning?”

Jun-hoo continued to say what he had to say.

Around 12:40 a.m. yesterday.

Si-hoo visited the staff-only restroom. In the restroom, he prepared a deadly drug he had 미리 빼돌린 [miri ppae dollin – Korean for ‘secretly taken out beforehand’] in a syringe.

And like a stray cat, he finds the hospital room where patient Min Tae-woong is.

Knowing the blind spots of the CCTV, his steps are unhesitating.

Si-hoo, who entered the hospital room, injects the patient with the prepared drug.

Si-hoo finishes his work and returns to the on-call room.

Shortly after, patient Min Tae-woong experiences acute cardiac arrest and respiratory failure.

Since there is no patient monitoring device attached, the patient dies in silence.

1 a.m.

The nurse making rounds notices that patient Min Tae-woong is not doing well, but it is already too late.

The patient is already close to death.

CPR is useless.

While expire(declaring death) to the patient, the curtain of the perfect crime falls.

“How is it? Isn’t it a very natural way to kill? Since the patient has also been 판정 [panjeong – Korean for ‘judged’ or ‘determined’] to discontinue life-sustaining treatment, it’s not strange at all even if he dies suddenly.”

“……”

“Isn’t it a very elaborate and meticulous planned crime?”

“You should write 추리 [churi – Korean for ‘mystery’ or ‘detective’] novels. Why did you become a doctor?”

After listening to Jun-hoo’s words.

Si-hoo laughed as if he was dumbfounded.

But Jun-hoo had no plans to stop here.

Under the assumption that Si-hoo was the culprit.

He judged that he might be able to get what he wanted if he manipulated Si-hoo well.

There are two 심리 [simni – Korean for ‘psychology’ or ‘mindset’] in psychopath criminals.

One is wanting to handle things secretly.

The other is wanting someone to recognize what they have done anyway.

Jun-hoo decided to use the latter 심리 [simni].

Even one word with a nuance of confession was fine.

Then he could persuade the bereaved to proceed with an autopsy.

Isn’t now a golden opportunity that will never come again?

Jun-hoo’s instinct sent a strong signal that he should not miss this opportunity.

“Reality has surpassed novels for a long time. Don’t you know that best, Senior?”

“I don’t know about that. I don’t want to know either. You’ve completely lost it because your precious patient died. You.”

“No matter how 맛이 [masi – Korean slang for ‘crazy’ or ‘gone mad’] I am, I won’t even reach your toes, Senior?”

“Keu keu keu keu. You really surprise me many times. You’re the first human like you.”

Si-hoo burst into laughter mixed with madness.

Then he erased the laughter all at once.

“Seo Jun-hoo. You’ve used your brain quite a bit, but you’ve made a wrong guess this time. I didn’t kill the patient.”

“It’s no use denying it. Heaven knows, earth knows, and I know.”

When Jun-hoo pressed him one more time, Si-hoo showed an unexpected reaction.

It was a reaction he had never expected.

Si-hoo grabbed Jun-hoo by the collar.

“I didn’t kill him. You 씨X놈아 [ssi-bal-nom-ah – a very strong Korean curse word, equivalent to ‘you son of a bitch’].”

It was the moment when Si-hoo’s 평점심 [pyeongjeom-sim – Korean for ‘composure’ or ‘equanimity’] collapsed for the first time.