A Surgeon Who Uses Martial Arts [EN]: Chapter 106

The Surgeon Who Uses Martial Arts-106

Chapter 19: The Competition (1)

Drrrrr.

Returning to the on-call room, Dae-jin placed his hand on his left chest.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

His heart was pounding roughly.

His arms trembled faintly with the excitement that hadn’t faded.

It wasn’t a sign of cardiac arrest.

It was more like an aftereffect of refusing Mi-ho’s request for the first time.

Can I, who suffers from the ‘nice guy’ syndrome, refuse?

Can I, the frog in the beaker [a person used for experimentation or easily manipulated], refuse?

Dae-jin kept doubting himself.

So, when Mi-ho asked him to cover the emergency room.

His heart sank.

He was frustrated that he would inevitably give in to the request again.

But it was at that moment.

Jun-hoo’s advice, who had been steadily visiting him for the past few days, came to mind.

The most memorable advice was: “Flowers do not bloom for people.”

Dae-jin was not born to meet someone’s expectations.

Dae-jin was born to find his own dreams and happiness.

Just like flowers do not bloom for people.

As he repeated those words in his heart.

A little courage welled up.

He gained the strength to resist Mi-ho.

As a result, he succeeded in refusing, something he never thought he could do in his life.

It was an extremely trivial action to others, but Dae-jin himself had accomplished a historic feat.

“Senior, that was really cool! ‘You go to the emergency room,’ what was that?”

Jun-hoo, who had entered the on-call room, asked Dae-jin with a bright smile.

“How embarrassing. Were you watching everything?”

“To be exact, I was listening nearby.”

Jun-hoo sat on the chair opposite Dae-jin.

Unfortunately, Jun-hoo didn’t get to see Dae-jin’s performance directly.

He confirmed from afar that the two were talking.

He only eavesdropped on the conversation by amplifying his hearing with internal energy.

“I wanted to refuse in a cool way, but suddenly a movie line came to mind. So, I just blurted it out.”

“You did a great job. I felt so relieved.”

“I feel relieved too.”

Dae-jin took his hand off his chest and placed it on the desk.

The trembling and excitement had now stopped.

He was filled with a sense of accomplishment that belatedly washed over him.

“Thanks, Jun-hoo. Thanks to you, I came to my senses. I think I can refuse well now.”

“The first time is always the hardest, but it gets easier after that. But there’s just one thing I regret.”

“What is it?”

“I should have seen Mi-ho’s constipated expression when you refused.”

Dae-jin chuckled at Jun-hoo’s joke.

“But how should I treat Mi-ho from now on?”

Dae-jin changed the subject.

It was good that he had made his first real refusal in his life.

But he wondered if he should continue to refuse Mi-ho’s requests in the future.

“You have to distinguish from now on.”

“Distinguish?”

“Yes. Distinguish. You need to know how to distinguish between requests you should refuse and requests you should grant.”

Jun-hoo continued his explanation calmly.

Unconditionally refusing other people’s requests was not a panacea [a solution or remedy for all difficulties or diseases].

Social life was fundamentally about constantly exchanging emotions, thoughts, and work with colleagues.

He warned that if you only refuse requests from colleagues, juniors, or superiors, you could become an isolated island.

“How do I know if that person is really in trouble or not?”

“That’s the trick. It’s hard to explain in words.”

“Hmm… It’s difficult. It’s difficult.”

“You’ll be able to do it well, Senior. In that sense, shall I give you a massage to celebrate your return?”

“No.”

“Pardon?”

Jun-hoo was startled by Dae-jin’s firm refusal.

But Dae-jin, who had refused, also looked surprised.

What was going on?

The explanation could be heard from Dae-jin.

“Ah. Sorry. I was always ready to refuse, so I blurted out ‘no’ without realizing it.”

Dae-jin smiled awkwardly.

Jun-hoo clutched his stomach and burst into laughter.

Has he now caught the opposite of aversion?

* * *

While working as an intern, Jun-hoo carefully observed Mi-ho.

Since Dae-jin had returned but wasn’t covering for her, Mi-ho was suffering extreme pain.

It seemed like getting bashed by seniors was her job now.

She was at a level where it wouldn’t be a waste to give her the nickname ‘punching bag’.

Jun-hoo’s plan to expose Mi-ho’s pretense and hypocrisy, and the false illusion of being a first-year ace, had been a great success.

But Jun-hoo didn’t feel even a shred of sympathy for Mi-ho.

Pity was an emotion that should be felt for normal people.

It was not an emotion that should be felt for villains paying for their sins.

“Seo Jun-hoo, this is all your doing, isn’t it? You’re deliberately trying to screw me over, right?”

Mi-ho, who he encountered in the ward hallway around 6 p.m., grabbed Jun-hoo and asked bluntly.

Mi-ho was just bad at her job.

She was the owner of a shrewd brain.

She realized that Jun-hoo was behind the current situation.

“If so, what are you going to do?”

Jun-hoo retorted with a prickly tone.

“…I was wrong. Dae-jin collapsing from overwork was also because of me. And I was the one who spoke ill of you to the seniors. I was jealous because you were good at your job.”

“…”

“I know I was wrong, so please forgive me now. It’s too hard for me too.”

An unexpected reaction.

The usually venomous Mi-ho, like a nine-tailed fox [a mythical creature known for cunning and deception], was nowhere to be found.

Mi-ho in front of Jun-hoo was like a fragile flower swaying in the wind.

Has she become docile after being scolded so much?

“Do you know how hard it was for Dae-jin Senior now? You’ve only had a hard time for four days, but Dae-jin Senior had a hard time for three months.”

“Yeah. I think I know a little. So, will you forgive me?”

“No. I’m not going to forgive you.”

Jun-hoo refused coldly.

His voice was as cold as a winter wind.

“Jun-hoo, I’ve done this much, shouldn’t you understand me a little?”

Mi-ho’s voice changed subtly.

She seemed a little angry.

“I apologized. What more do you want me to do?”

“Are you starting to show your true colors again?”

Jun-hoo crossed his arms.

“You don’t know how many people like you I’ve dealt with.”

“…”

“People like you think everything is over once they apologize. But do you know how selfish that is?”

“Why is apologizing selfish? Selfish people don’t even apologize!”

Mi-ho also retorted sharply.

The relaxed atmosphere of the conversation suddenly became tense.

“Apologies, you see, are not about the person who makes them. They’re about the person who receives them.”

“…”

“Apologies made to avoid one’s own guilt or pain are not apologies. They must have enough sincerity for the recipient to feel it.”

“Geez. Look at him talking?”

Mi-ho continued, her face flushed.

She quickly returned to her usual venomous self.

“Then should I do a three-step bow [a highly formal and respectful Korean bow] or kneel in repentance? Would that make you feel better?”

“Don’t exaggerate. I’m saying don’t try to wash away your sins with just one sorry apology.”

Jun-hoo sternly scolded Mi-ho.

From the beginning, Jun-hoo didn’t believe even a sliver that Mi-ho had turned over a new leaf.

If Mi-ho was a person capable of reforming.

They wouldn’t have gone so far as to have Dae-jin collapse from cardiac arrest.

“Ugh, annoying. Seriously. You’re more twisted than you look?”

“I’m naturally an enemy to people like you.”

“What? You? Did you just call your senior ‘you’?”

“Yeah. You. You probably don’t know. But there hasn’t been a single person who has slept soundly after being targeted by me.”

Jun-hoo continued with a cold expression.

“Just you wait. I’ll make you feel what real hardship is like to the bone.”

* * *

That night.

Drrrrr.

Jun-hoo was coming out of a room in the digestive surgery department after finishing a procedure.

“Seriously frustrating. Frustrating. How can you still not be able to do a para (paracentesis) [a procedure to remove fluid from the abdomen] after three months?”

“…”

“How can a resident not be able to do what an intern can do? Do you want to be an intern instead?”

“…”

“This is already the third time. Huh? When are you going to come to your senses? Aren’t you going to answer? How long are you going to be like a mute who’s eaten honey [unable to speak due to enjoyment or being in a difficult situation]?”

The sound of Sang-hyuk scolding Mi-ho could be heard from behind.

The situation a little while ago was like this.

Under Sang-hyuk’s supervision, Mi-ho failed the para twice in a row.

Jun-hoo, who happened to be passing by in the hallway, succeeded in the para at once instead of Mi-ho.

The reason for intervening in Mi-ho’s procedure was simple.

It was to further highlight Mi-ho’s incompetence.

If the opponent is a villain, trample them mercilessly.

This was one of the major principles Jun-hoo had established in the Murim [a martial arts world].

After realizing justice, Jun-hoo entered the conference room.

He took out the sandwich and coffee he had put in his gown pocket.

Before eating a late dinner.

Jun-hoo started setting up for NewTube filming.

He set up the phone stand in a position where the food and his face were clearly visible.

After placing the phone on the stand, he pressed the video recording button.

Jun-hoo started eating silently.

The video was simply capturing Jun-hoo’s eating habits.

There were no subtitles.

No words.

He wondered why people would watch his boring videos, but Jun-hoo’s channel was steadily gaining popularity.

It was thanks to recently getting on the study video algorithm.

“What? Eating without me?”

During the filming, Yoo-jung, his partner intern, invaded the on-call room.

Yoo-jung approached Jun-hoo but slipped out of the angle when she realized he was filming.

She remained silent until Jun-hoo finished filming.

“Filming done. You can come now.”

Jun-hoo retrieved his phone.

He stopped the video recording and put away the stand.

“Jun-hoo, you live so busy. The intern work is tough, but you even do NewTube filming.”

Yoo-jung sat opposite Jun-hoo with a fed-up expression.

Yoo-jung had known for a long time that Jun-hoo was filming NewTube.

“It’s not as hard as you think. I just film and upload it. I don’t even edit it at all.”

“I know that too. I subscribed to your channel and watched a few videos. But you’re doing pretty well these days, right?”

Yoo-jung mentioned Jun-hoo’s channel.

Dr. SeoTube had 3,000 subscribers.

The average number of views for the videos reached 2,000.

Considering the channel’s opening date, it was a rapid rise.

“It looks like you’ll be able to monetize it soon, right?”

“That’s true, but I still have a long way to go. At the current level, I won’t even make 50,000 won a month, right?” [approximately $40 USD]

“Our Jun-hoo is surprisingly the type to be interested in money. Are you going to quit being a doctor if NewTube blows up?”

“Don’t say ridiculous things.”

Jun-hoo shook his head firmly.

It was true that he started NewTube because of money.

But that money was not for him to use.

He planned to steadily save the NewTube revenue and help patients and guardians with difficult family situations.

There was a social welfare team in the hospital, but there were too many people who couldn’t receive proper support.

“Awesome. A true doctor. A true doctor.”

Yoo-jung even clapped after hearing Jun-hoo’s explanation.

“It’s upsetting to be sick, but imagine not having money on top of that. You don’t know how miserable and terrible that feeling is.”

“Do you know?”

“I know.”

Jun-hoo’s answer was without hesitation.

After the attack by Jeokildo, most of the warriors of the Seo family, including his father, lost their lives.

The Seo family began to decline.

So, even though he had smallpox, although he didn’t know much about the disease in Murim, he was on the verge of death because he couldn’t even get proper medicine and acupuncture.

Jun-hoo still shuddered when he thought about that time.

“Anyway, shall I give you a good source?”

“What source?”

“A source to make your channel blow up.”

Yoo-jung smiled and explained that it was a Shorts video.

Shorts videos were extremely short videos that were literally about 5 to 30 seconds long.

“I’ve seen them too, but what does that have to do with blowing up? I heard you barely make any money from them.”

Jun-hoo raised a question.

“It’s because the subscribers who came in through Shorts are watching your videos.”

“Is that so? I don’t really know. I don’t really have any content to upload as Shorts either.”

“Why don’t you have any? You’ll hit the jackpot if you just follow the trending challenges these days?”

Yoo-jung continued, her voice excited.

“I still vividly remember you doing a talent show at the medical school OT [Orientation]? It would be good to do a male idol dance challenge or something.”

“…”

“Or you can follow twerking or cocaine dances or something.”

Yoo-jung showed various Shorts videos and tried to win Jun-hoo’s favor.

If only the channel could blow up.

If only he could help patients and guardians who were not in good financial condition.

Now was not the time to be picky.

Jun-hoo decided to follow Yoo-jung’s lead.

“Let’s do it. What.”

“Yeah, that’s the Jun-hoo I know. Let’s film one right away since we’re talking about it. With the hottest one these days.”

Yoo-jung showed him a video of the constellation challenge, which was the title song of a male idol group called Interstellar.

“How is it? Can you follow it?”

Yoo-jung asked, and Jun-hoo nodded with a bland expression.

“This is a piece of cake.”