A Surgeon Who Uses Martial Arts [EN]: Chapter 381

Chapter 74: Spring (1)

“As you can see,” Clara said weakly, gesturing with her chin towards the patient monitoring device.

Jun-hoo’s eyes followed, his brow furrowing involuntarily.

Despite the ongoing antibiotic treatment, Justin’s vitals were rapidly declining. His cheeks were flushed red with a high fever, and the rise and fall of his chest with each breath looked precarious, as if it could stop at any moment.

“Have you decided on a treatment plan?”

“It’s rare to switch antibiotics this quickly after the first dose, but today might be an exception.”

“Which antibiotic are you considering?”

“Chloramphenicol would be a good choice.”

Chloramphenicol is a broad-spectrum antibiotic used to treat certain types of meningitis or pneumonia.

Considering that many cases of sepsis originate from pneumonia and that the patient had undergone brain surgery, Clara’s judgment was textbook.

There was nothing to criticize. It was like focusing on core subjects and studying directly from the textbook.

“What have you been doing until now, Doctor? With the sepsis patient list I gave you.”

Clara looked at Jun-hoo, curiosity evident in her eyes.

“I took this opportunity to study sepsis.”

“You’re a diligent neurosurgeon, even studying fields completely unrelated to your specialty.”

“There’s no such thing as ‘my patient’ or ‘your patient.’ If they’re sick, they’re all patients, and doctors should treat them.”

While Jun-hoo was talking with Clara, Raymond, who had briefly left, returned to the bedside holding a 10cc syringe.

“I’ve prepared the chloramphenicol. I can mix it into the IV fluid right away, right?”

“Yes.”

“Just a moment, Doctor,” Jun-hoo said urgently, blocking Raymond’s path. Clara and Raymond tilted their heads, puzzled by Jun-hoo’s sudden action.

“What are you doing? Move aside?”

“You’re the one who should step back. Doctor, are you sure using chloramphenicol is the right choice? Isn’t there a better antibiotic?” Jun-hoo pleaded.

After struggling for the past few hours, Jun-hoo had gained the ability to discern the inflammatory response of antibiotics with his internal energy [a concept from martial arts novels referring to the manipulation of one’s life force]. According to his conclusion, Justin was infected with E. coli, and the inflammatory response in his abdominal cavity was particularly severe. In other words, the antibiotic Clara was about to administer would be ineffective.

“I did my best with the information I had. I think other infectious disease specialists would have made the same judgment as me,” Clara replied in a firm voice.

“Still, wouldn’t it be better to consider various possibilities?”

“What possibilities?”

“For example, using cephalosporin-based antibiotics.”

Jun-hoo subtly threw out bait. Cephalosporins were excellent antibiotics for treating intra-abdominal infections and E. coli. However, Jun-hoo’s bait had the opposite effect.

Clara crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes, glaring at Jun-hoo. “Did you just study a little and now you’re acting like you know everything? It’s crossing the line to discuss antibiotics in front of me.”

“…….”

“Would you feel good if I gave you surgery instructions in the operating room?”

“…….”

“In the first place, there’s no reason for the patient to have an infection in the abdominal cavity or intestines. He didn’t have abdominal surgery.”

“Sepsis can occur regardless of the surgical site, can’t it? It’s possible anywhere if an organ’s function is impaired,” Jun-hoo responded in the softest tone possible.

There was no point in upsetting Clara. Justin was now Clara’s patient, and her authority in treatment was significantly higher than Jun-hoo’s. When it comes to antibiotic treatment, would a neurosurgeon be more trustworthy, or would an infectious disease specialist be more trustworthy?

‘This is always the problem.’

Jun-hoo wanted to create a window in his chest out of frustration. Internal energy and martial arts—cheat skills that assist modern medicine—were the two mainstays that had led to Jun-hoo’s success as a surgeon and as a doctor. However, internal energy and martial arts also had a fatal flaw: the information and treatments obtained through them could not be shared with others.

He thought of his past life in the Murim [a world of martial arts]. How could he explain internal energy and martial arts to others? And no one would believe him even if he did explain. He’d be lucky if he wasn’t called crazy.

“Are you completely insane?” Raymond, who had been silent, stared at Jun-hoo with an absurd expression. “You’re the one who suggested getting a consultant from infectious diseases. But why aren’t you listening to the doctor?”

“It’s not that I’m not listening; it’s that I want us to think together.”

“No, I mean, what is there to think about? What makes you better than Doctor Clara?”

Jun-hoo couldn’t refute Raymond’s question. He just chewed on his lip. On the surface, Raymond’s words were correct. There was no room for Jun-hoo to intervene in antibiotic treatment.

“You’re delaying the treatment because of you. Move aside quickly. Let me mix the antibiotic.”

“…….”

“Are you trying to have a power struggle? What is it?”

When Jun-hoo stubbornly stood his ground, Raymond tried to push him away with one hand, but Jun-hoo didn’t budge.

To save Justin, he had to administer cephalosporin-based antibiotics. But words weren’t working, and there was a limit to physically resisting. What’s a good way?

Cornered, Jun-hoo barely found a clever solution. There’s a saying, “결자해지(gyeol-ja-hae-ji)” [gyeolja haeji: a Korean idiom meaning “the one who tied the knot must untie it,” similar to the concept of karma]. Why did this commotion happen? It was because of internal energy and martial arts. Then shouldn’t internal energy and martial arts also be the ones to quell this commotion?

Jun-hoo drew up the internal energy that had been dwelling in his dantian [the center of one’s life force, located in the abdomen].

* * *

‘Is this bastard’s body made of rock? He won’t even budge?’

Raymond tried to push Jun-hoo away but failed and took a moment to catch his breath. He stared down at Jun-hoo. Raymond was taller and bigger, but it was Raymond who felt intimidated. He even thought that if Jun-hoo was determined to resist, he wouldn’t be able to chase him away.

“Hey, stop being so stubborn. We need to treat the patient first.”

“…….”

Jun-hoo didn’t answer. He was staring at Clara, not Raymond. But maybe it was just his imagination. Jun-hoo’s eyes seemed to momentarily flash with a red aura. A murderous intent emanated from Jun-hoo’s body. It was a chilling aura that was hard to describe. This caused goosebumps to rise on Raymond’s arms, and his fine hairs stood on end.

“Doctor, the antibiotic. Let’s switch to ceftazidime instead of chloramphenicol,” Clara said in a dazed voice.

Raymond was startled. “Huh? Suddenly?”

“Now that I think about it, it would be better to use ceftazidime.”

“Isn’t ceftazidime a cephalosporin-based antibiotic? So you’re going to listen to Jun-hoo?”

“Yes,” Clara nodded. Raymond was greatly embarrassed by her sudden change in attitude. Why would she suddenly change antibiotics? Although Raymond wasn’t a sepsis expert, it seemed to him that chloramphenicol was more useful than ceftazidime.

“Hurry up and get the new antibiotic; we don’t have time,” Jun-hoo urged Raymond. But Raymond didn’t back down easily either. Justin was the first patient Raymond had operated on while receiving boost-up training, and he was also a VIP patient. He wanted to be as careful as possible with the treatment.

“Clara, I’ll ask you one more time. Are you sure about using ceftazidime? Is this the best course of action?”

“Are you not listening to me either now, Doctor? Do you think I’m that easy to push around? Should I just quit the treatment?” Clara retorted with a prickly expression.

Since he had received confirmation again, Raymond had no choice. He moved to the station and mixed physiological saline solution into the ceftazidime vial. As he shook the vial, the saline solution and antibiotic mixed together. Raymond’s mind was also confused. He drew the dissolved antibiotic into a syringe and returned to the bedside.

Jun-hoo, who had been blocking the IV set, had already moved aside, as if he had finished his part. Raymond mixed the antibiotic into the IV fluid and gently shook the IV bag.

The trigger had been pulled. The die had been cast. Now, all that was left was to pray to heaven that Justin would recover.

Jun-hoo left the intensive care unit first, like the wind. Raymond left the intensive care unit with Clara.

“Doctor, are you sure it’s okay to use a cepha-based antibiotic?”

“Probably.”

“Probably?” Raymond’s face crumpled at Clara’s unsure answer.

“How can you say that now? The antibiotic mixing is already done, and we can’t even change the antibiotic from now on.”

“That’s… it’s hard to explain,” Clara scratched her cheek and continued. “When I gave the order to Raymond, I was sure that using a cepha antibiotic was the right thing to do. I don’t know why.”

“Isn’t that too irresponsible? What are you going to do if the treatment goes wrong?”

“I guess I had a gut feeling. Anyway, the antibiotic administration is over, and we can’t undo it. Let’s hope for a good outcome.”

Raymond didn’t answer and turned his head back. He glanced at the receding entrance to the intensive care unit.

* * *

Jun-hoo, who had left the intensive care unit, went to the staff restroom. He hurriedly entered a stall.

“Ugh! Ugh!” He retched, and clumps of dark red blood spurted from his throat. Jun-hoo writhed in pain and vomited all the twisted and tangled blood. The toilet bowl was instantly stained red. It was a scene that could only be seen in a horror movie.

Only after vomiting until his twisted insides were completely emptied did Jun-hoo straighten up. He spat out red saliva, pulled out a tissue, and wiped his mouth. Jun-hoo flushed the toilet and stood in front of the sink.

The figure reflected in the mirror was a mess. His eyes were filled with tears, and droplets of blood that had splattered while vomiting were stuck to various parts of his face. Jun-hoo washed his face with cold water. Only then did his mind clear.

‘I hope this doesn’t happen again.’

A bitter smile appeared on Jun-hoo’s lips. The martial art that Jun-hoo used to persuade Clara was none other than… The Evil Eye.

The Evil Eye, when translated directly, means a cunning eye. It was a martial art that was exactly the opposite of the Righteous Eye, which Jun-hoo used to boost the morale of his colleagues. The usage of the Evil Eye was simple: all he had to do was send the thought of controlling others with his internal energy.

But this was not a righteous method, but a demonic one. It was a martial art that was incompatible with Jun-hoo’s clear mind and internal energy. That’s why he paid the price just now. His blood vessels twisted, and he vomited a handful of blood. It was because he had reversed the flow of internal energy, which originally flowed clockwise, in a counterclockwise direction. The aftereffects were severe.

But from Jun-hoo’s perspective, it was an unavoidable choice. There was no way to persuade Clara, and there was no way to secretly administer the antibiotic. Still, he was relieved that he was able to administer the cepha-based antibiotic after all the hardships.

To think that he would be able to differentiate the causative agent of sepsis with internal energy… That’s an unexpected gain.

‘But I’ll learn more in the future. I’ll save more people. Seong-ho hyung [hyung: Korean term for older brother or close male friend]. I’ll definitely find a treatment for brain damage and vegetative state. Believe in me.’

Stroking the health bracelet he was wearing on his left wrist, Jun-hoo left the restroom.

Eight months had passed since then.