A Surgeon Who Uses Martial Arts [EN]: Chapter 321

Chapter 62. Flying Through the Sky (1)

‘Aigo… I’m going to end up a patient myself at this rate,’ Woo-sung thought, shaking his head as he watched Jun-hoo attempt to descend the steep cliff directly.

Woo-sung had 20 years of hiking experience.

There wasn’t a mountain he hadn’t conquered, from the neighborhood hills to the famous peaks across the country.

And that wasn’t all.

For the past four years, he had even gone rock climbing dozens of times, despite his wife and children’s warnings about the danger.

In Woo-sung’s eyes, what Jun-hoo was trying to do was utterly reckless.

If it had been possible to save the person lying on the wide rock slab, the experienced Woo-sung would have attempted it himself already.

The reason Woo-sung had been standing there listlessly was, of course, because he saw no feasible way to save the patient.

Even if he was extremely careful… he might be able to get down there.

But without a harness, rope, rappel device, ascender, and other essential climbing equipment, it would be impossible to climb back up.

The slope of the cliff was too steep, and the rocks were slippery from the rain the previous day.

“Hey, young doctor. Your desire to save someone is admirable and respectable, but… this isn’t the time to be reckless…”

Woo-sung couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence.

Jun-hoo hadn’t even listened and had already jumped down the steep cliff.

In that instant, Woo-sung’s head snapped to the side.

His legs trembled anxiously, and his upper and lower teeth chattered.

He braced himself for the inevitable scream, but surprisingly, there was no sound.

Intrigued, Woo-sung slowly turned his head back toward the cliff.

Like cautiously checking his cards in a poker game.

And then…

“Huh?”

Woo-sung made a dumbfounded noise without realizing it.

Jun-hoo’s movements as he descended the cliff were fluid and agile.

He was reminded of a mountain goat he had once seen in a documentary.

A mountain goat literally lived in high-altitude mountains, a creature that bounded between cliffs and branches with the agility of a rabbit.

And Jun-hoo was descending the cliff like that mountain goat.

He had just landed on a sharp, small rock, and his sense of balance was unbelievable; he was as steady as a seasoned gymnast.

Thud!

Jun-hoo, who had been lightly leaping between rocks, landed on the wide rock slab where the patient was lying.

Then, he effortlessly lifted the patient up in both arms.

Jun-hoo not only had an exceptional sense of balance but was also incredibly strong.

The fallen patient was large and fleshy, appearing to weigh at least 100kg [approximately 220 pounds].

But Jun-hoo held the patient as if he were cradling a baby.

The scene that unfolded afterward was even more astonishing.

Even though he couldn’t use his arms for balance, and even though he had to bear the patient’s considerable weight, Jun-hoo climbed back up the way he had come.

He was scaling those steep and slippery cliffs as if they were mere stairs.

‘Seriously… is this a dream or reality?’

Woo-sung rubbed his eyes, but nothing changed.

Jun-hoo was not a mirage in the desert.

“You’re the caller, right?”

Woo-sung turned his head at the voice behind him.

A couple was joining him, panting, both with their foreheads soaked with sweat.

“There should be a doctor who arrived earlier. Where is he?”

Instead of answering, Woo-sung gestured with his chin toward the cliff below.

The couple approached the cliff and looked down. They were equally shocked, their eyes widening in disbelief.

Their eyes looked like they were about to pop out.

“No… is that even logically possible? He’s holding a patient in his arms and climbing this slope?”

“Wow. Dr. Jun-hoo is not even human.”

No sooner had the two finished exclaiming than Jun-hoo powerfully kicked off a sharp rock.

He soared into the air like a fountain.

Thud!

Drawing a graceful arc, Jun-hoo landed on the ground. It was a cool scene, like something out of a comic book or movie.

“You’ve done a great job, caller. We’ll take it from here,” Jun-hoo said, gently laying the patient on a stretcher.

* * *

Jun-hoo knelt on one knee and looked down at the patient lying on the stretcher.

The abdominal bleeding from the laceration was severe.

The entire hiking top was soaked red with blood.

The metallic smell of blood stung his nose with every breath.

The patient’s face was pale from the blood loss, and he was, of course, unconscious.

The patient, who had stabbed himself in the abdomen and then fallen, seemed to have hit his head on a rock.

There was a long laceration (torn wound) on the left side of his temple.

While assessing the patient’s condition, Jun-hoo couldn’t help but see a familiar face overlapping with the patient’s.

Mo Yong-pyeong.

The second son of the Mo Yong Clan and once a close friend of Jun-hoo.

Mo Yong-pyeong was also large and fleshy like the patient.

He had a fierce look, but his personality was surprisingly unpretentious and easygoing.

The two quickly became friends.

However, Mo Yong-pyeong passed away, becoming a star that faded too soon on his first mission as a formal warrior of the Murim Alliance [a martial arts alliance].

It was a mission to raid a Green Forest bandit camp, and Mo Yong-pyeong felt sorry for the Green Forest leader’s child even after subduing all the bandits.

It was all the adults’ fault.

What crime did a snot-nosed kid commit?

He was too kind and emotional, and that’s why Mo Yong-pyeong died.

The Green Forest leader’s child stabbed Mo Yong-pyeong’s unguarded chest with a poisoned knife.

The knife missed his heart, but Mo Yong-pyeong died nonetheless.

If it were the current Jun-hoo, he could have saved Mo Yong-pyeong.

Mo Yong-pyeong suffered from pneumothorax [collapsed lung] due to the laceration.

If he had had a chest tube inserted, Mo Yong-pyeong could have lived. The poison could have been treated with internal energy [qi or vital energy, often used in martial arts for healing and combat].

He saw Mo Yong-pyeong in the patient.

He saw the dead in the living.

Jun-hoo couldn’t helplessly watch the patient die.

He couldn’t repeat the sense of loss and helplessness from that time.

Above all, the Jun-hoo of that time and the Jun-hoo of now were completely different people.

If the Jun-hoo of that time had cut down villains with a sword, the Jun-hoo of now had become someone who saved people with a scalpel.

“Dr. Seo, it was good that you transported the patient, but it was too reckless. What if you had gotten hurt in the process?”

Seong-min approached Jun-hoo and scolded him.

His gaze looking down at Jun-hoo was far from kind.

“Is that what’s important right now? We need to save the patient first.”

“You did well, but this time you were just lucky. If you keep acting like this, I can’t work with you.”

“Seriously, what are you doing arguing in front of a dying patient?”

“Why are you being so stubborn, Dr. Seo? It would be over if you just said you were sorry. Apologize and let’s treat him together!”

“……”

“Don’t be reckless when you don’t even have any field experience.”

“Dr. Choi.”

Jun-hoo glared at Seong-min like an angry beast.

Unable to withstand the intense gaze, Seong-min visibly trembled.

“There are situations where you have to be reckless to save a patient.”

“……”

“According to your logic, we shouldn’t even do dangerous surgeries even if we can save people?”

“……”

“Stop talking and listen to me. Dr. Choi, do emergency treatment on the patient’s abdomen. Nurse Na, please secure a line quickly. As soon as you secure the line, administer epinephrine.”

Jun-hoo quickly took control of the situation with his inherent charisma. The two, who had been standing there blankly, snapped to attention and approached the patient.

They opened the emergency kit they had brought and laid out the necessary treatment supplies.

Every second was precious.

Jun-hoo followed the treatment plan he had devised while on the helicopter.

Click!

First, he turned on the penlight.

He lifted the patient’s eyelid with one hand and checked the pupillary reflex.

When the penlight’s light hit, the patient’s pupil dilated and then contracted. This meant there was a potential problem with the cranial nerves.

This time, Jun-hoo put the penlight in his mouth to free both hands.

He lifted the patient’s eyelids with both hands.

Shining the light into the left pupil, he observed the movement of the right pupil.

The former was the direct pupillary light reflex, and the latter was the consensual pupillary light reflex.

Jun-hoo alternately tested the pupillary reflexes in both of the patient’s eyes and then put the penlight back in his chest pocket.

His face, once hardened with determination, did not soften. The results were concerning.

He felt a sense of crisis, his spine chilled, and the fine hairs on his arms stood on end.

There was bleeding after all.

The eyes were turned outward, indicating increased intracranial pressure [pressure inside the skull].

At this point, there was no need to calculate the GCS (Glasgow Coma Scale) score [a neurological scale used to assess the level of consciousness].

The GCS score had a total of 15 points, but the patient’s score was essentially 0.

It was rock bottom, with nowhere further to fall.

Reaching for the bandage in the emergency kit, Jun-hoo glanced at Seong-min and Ji-hye performing emergency treatment.

Seong-min was wrapping an elastic bandage around the patient’s abdomen.

Without removing the blood-soaked top.

Wrapping the bandage over it was, surprisingly, the correct procedure to apply pressure and help stem the bleeding.

After wrapping the bandage around the patient’s abdomen, Seong-min gently pressed down on the patient’s abdomen with both hands.

It was direct pressure, a crucial first step.

Ji-hye was securing a line in the patient’s forearm and connecting a saline solution.

Even though the patient’s forearm veins were thin and likely constricted due to shock, she easily secured the vein and mixed epinephrine into the saline solution as Jun-hoo instructed.

Was it because they were seasoned trauma center staff?

The two’s treatment was calm, efficient, and accurate.

Perhaps that was why Jun-hoo clearly saw a glimmer of hope seeping into the dark cave of death.

If Jun-hoo played his cards right, there was a chance of success.

“Here.”

As if she knew what Jun-hoo wanted, Ji-hye handed him the bandage.

Jun-hoo nodded in thanks.

He unwrapped the bandage he received and wrapped it securely around the patient’s head, covering the laceration.

After completing the initial treatment, Jun-hoo placed his hand on the patient’s crown.

He emitted internal energy drawn from his dantian [energy center in the body, a concept in traditional Chinese medicine].

The internal energy traveled from his palm to the skull.

From the skull, it moved toward the brain in the form of subtle ripples.

It was Jun-hoo’s signature move.

No, it was Jun-hoo’s exclusive signature move, ‘Internal Energy Cerebral Angiography’ [using internal energy to visualize the brain’s blood vessels].

Feeling the internal energy reflected back, Jun-hoo frowned.

There was clear evidence of bleeding in a large branch of the left middle cerebral artery.

The blood flow was dangerously fast.

It was a torrent, like a flooded valley stream.

The intracranial pressure was also extremely high due to the uncontrolled bleeding.

He could even feel the early signs of brain herniation, where the brain was being forced out of its normal position due to the excessive pressure within the skull.

10 minutes to get to the helipad.

20 minutes to get from the helipad to the hospital.

20 minutes for surgery and essential tests.

The minimum time required for the patient to receive definitive care was 50 minutes, but it seemed increasingly unlikely that the patient could last that long.

Even if he did last, and even if the surgery was technically successful, it seemed impossible to avoid the severe and debilitating aftereffects that would inevitably remain in the patient’s brain.

Damn it.

Is there really no other way?

After seeing the patient’s grim future, a wave of anxiety washed over him. There was no way to escape the overwhelming wave of anxiety, and his chest felt suffocated.

Unless he was in an operating room, there was honestly nothing more Jun-hoo could conventionally do for the patient.

He could administer diuretics or antihypertensive drugs to help reduce the swelling and pressure, but it would be difficult, if not impossible, to completely control the patient’s dangerously high intracranial pressure with just those measures.

To properly and effectively lower the intracranial pressure, a craniectomy (decompressive craniectomy) [surgical removal of a portion of the skull] was urgently needed.

Excising a portion of the skull that surrounds the brain would create much-needed space for the swollen brain to expand, relieving the pressure and preventing further damage.

It was similar to the principle of opening a door in a room full of smoke, allowing the smoke to escape and equalize the pressure.

Seo Jun-hoo.

Use your own unique weapon.

You can do it because you are you.

From deep within Jun-hoo’s chest, where frustration had taken root, he heard an encouraging inner voice.

With that voice resonating in his mind, Jun-hoo picked up the fallen hope and embraced it.

Once he stood up, he even had the renewed strength to walk forward.

Jun-hoo once again infused internal energy into the palm of his hand that he had placed on the patient’s crown.

But the method was subtly yet significantly different from before.

He would not use ‘Internal Energy Cerebral Angiography’ in its original form, which involved emitting internal energy in the form of waves to gently penetrate the brain.

Instead, Jun-hoo focused and applied that method only to the patient’s scalp.

Woo-oong.

Woo-oong.

The concentrated internal energy that passed through the scalp resonated and materialized, striking the patient’s skull with focused force.

Crack!

The patient’s skull, unable to withstand the concentrated internal energy, shattered like a brittle cookie.

Deliberately and precisely destroying the skull.

Jun-hoo fully intended to rapidly lower the patient’s dangerously high intracranial pressure, buying him the precious time he desperately needed to survive.