A Surgeon Who Uses Martial Arts [EN]: Chapter 34

Surgeon Who Uses Martial Arts – Chapter 34

Chapter 7: Medical School (4)

Jun-hoo couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

Seung-beom and his cronies were taking celebratory photos in front of the cadaver.

Seung-beom had his thumb up, while the other two were posing with their arms crossed.

‘Those bastards are worse than animals,’ Jun-hoo thought.

They had no respect for the deceased.

How could they treat someone’s death as a photo op for social media?

Seung-beom and his gang were even worse than Jun-hoo had imagined.

‘I can’t just let this go.’

His heart burned with anger, but his mind remained cold and calculating.

Jun-hoo pulled out his phone and started recording a video of Seung-beom and his gang’s actions.

He wanted to prevent them from denying it later and ensure they didn’t forget their misdeeds.

Creak.

“Hey, don’t you think you’re going a bit too far, ethically speaking?”

After securing the video evidence, Jun-hoo immediately entered the lab.

This time, he intended to record their conversation.

Having experienced the martial arts world, Jun-hoo had become meticulous and tenacious, like the villains he used to punish, in order to bring them to justice.

“What… what’s it to you?”

“Hyung [older brother/male friend], I think that bastard’s been watching us the whole time?”

Seung-beom and his gang were agitated by Jun-hoo’s sudden appearance.

It was ten minutes after the end of the lab session.

They probably hadn’t expected anyone to return to the lab.

After all, who would willingly subject themselves to the smell of formaldehyde again?

“So what if I was?”

Seung-beom responded with an even more brazen attitude.

Was he incapable of admitting his mistake?

Or did he genuinely not realize he’d done anything wrong?

Frighteningly, Jun-hoo suspected the latter was true.

“Is taking a picture a crime?”

“Yes, actually. It’s written in the lab rules that taking pictures is prohibited.”

“Oh my, here comes the great champion of justice,” Seung-beom mocked, continuing his tirade.

“Hey, it’s not like I took a picture of the whole cadaver; it’s just the sole of the foot. The *sole* of the foot. Is that really a problem?”

Seung-beom seemed to be seriously missing the point.

He seemed to have forgotten that the problem was the act of taking the picture itself, not the extent of what was photographed.

“The problem is that you’re using the deceased’s body for social media attention. Do you have no common sense?”

Jun-hoo said, his voice laced with frustration.

“Seriously, what does it matter to you whether I take pictures or dance in front of the cadaver?”

“It matters because our medical school will get criticized, and our reputation will suffer because of you.”

“You really live a frustrating life,” Seung-beom clicked his tongue.

He confidently predicted that comments would flood in when he posted the photo on social media.

Comments praising how hard medical students work in the anatomy lab.

What twisted logic allowed him to arrive at such a conclusion?

Jun-hoo suddenly felt the urge to delve into Seung-beom’s mind to understand his thought process.

“And it’s no use you ranting. I already uploaded the picture.”

Seung-beom smirked and held out his phone screen.

One of the photos taken moments ago had already been posted to Seung-beom’s social media account.

Was he insane?

If this weren’t the modern era but a martial arts world, Seung-beom would have been a talent coveted by villains.

But Jun-hoo thought it was a good thing.

Seung-beom was digging his own grave.

Even if he was bombarded with criticism and took down the post, it wouldn’t solve his problems.

The video and audio files Jun-hoo had obtained would remain as indelible evidence.

“Wow, I’m really jealous of you,” Jun-hoo said sarcastically.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m jealous because it seems like you’re going to be cursed at and live a long, long life.”

Jun-hoo stopped recording, grabbed his meal ticket, and left the lab.

The world is vast, and it’s full of crazy people.

* * *

“Wow. Are these guys completely insane? Have they lost their minds?”

“Wow, I didn’t think it would be this bad.”

“I should stop associating with them from now on.”

This was the reaction of Sung-ho, Ah-young, and Jung-han after Jun-hoo showed them Seung-beom’s social media post.

The four of them were skipping lunch and drinking coffee at a cafe.

The topic, of course, was Seung-beom’s reckless behavior in the lab.

The reactions of his classmates mirrored Jun-hoo’s own.

Therefore, Jun-hoo’s condemnation of Seung-beom was perfectly justified.

Jun-hoo carefully examined Seung-beom’s post.

The people commenting that Seung-beom was working hard all seemed to be his friends.

The rest were strangers, and the comment section was filled with curses.

‘Are you even human?’

‘You don’t deserve to be a medical student.’

‘Have you lost your mind?’ etc.

But when Jun-hoo refreshed the page to check for new comments, the post had vanished.

The slow-witted Seung-beom seemed to have finally realized the error of his ways.

How foolish his actions had been.

“He just deleted the post.”

“Oh, really? I was composing a whole barrage of curses. If I had known he would take it down this quickly, I would have at least taken a screenshot,” Sung-ho lamented, echoing Ah-young’s disappointment.

But it didn’t matter in the slightest.

Jun-hoo had already captured the post and secured the video and audio files.

The Seung-beom gang’s ticket to hell was as good as booked.

“But Ah-young, you’re quite skilled at dissection, aren’t you?”

Jun-hoo changed the subject to the anatomy lab.

He had been worried that the gentle-natured Ah-young would struggle in the anatomy lab, but he was mistaken.

Jun-hoo had occasionally glanced at Ah-young, and she had been diligently performing her lab work.

She didn’t avoid eye contact with the cadaver.

She didn’t gag.

There was no hesitation in her dissecting movements.

It was an unexpected performance.

“I’ve been preparing myself since yesterday. I’m planning to specialize in thoracic surgery, so I feel a responsibility to excel in the lab.”

“I was surprised too. I didn’t know Ah-young would be the first to start dissecting,” Sung-han, who was in the same group as Ah-young, nodded in agreement.

“But are you really going to pursue thoracic surgery?”

“Yeah. Everyone knows my younger sibling’s story now.”

“I know, but I can see how demanding it’s going to be. Have you decided on your specialty, hyung?”

Jung-han’s gaze turned to Sung-ho.

“Isn’t the specialty you choose based on your grades? I’d like to go into dermatology if I could.”

Dermatology, which Sung-ho mentioned, was one of the most coveted specialties for medical students.

There were fewer inpatients.

Inpatient management was easier compared to other departments.

Even if you didn’t secure a position at a university hospital, it was easy to establish a private practice.

And if you opened a clinic, there were many non-insured treatments, resulting in a good income.

“Jun-hoo, you said you’re definitely going into surgery, right? Do you still feel the same way?”

“Of course.”

Jun-hoo answered Sung-ho’s question succinctly.

Even if the world ended, Jun-hoo was determined to become a surgeon.

In the martial arts world, he was a swordsman who punished heretics, but in the modern world, he planned to be reborn as a swordsman who eradicated various diseases.

Surgery was the field where Jun-hoo could unleash his full potential and abilities.

“Then how about following Ah-young into thoracic surgery? It would be great to support each other.”

“I’m considering that as well.”

Currently, he was most interested in neurosurgery, but his preferences could change during his internship.

In truth, Jun-hoo was drawn to any kind of surgery.

Jun-hoo, who had been conversing with his classmates, rose from his seat after a while.

He had something important to take care of.

* * *

Knock. Knock. Knock.

A voice telling him to enter was heard after he knocked.

When he entered the department office, teaching assistant Kang Ha-na was working at her desk.

“Jun-hoo? What’s the matter?”

“I have something to report regarding Seung-beom hyung’s problem.”

“What did that troublemaker do this time?”

“He caused a major incident. Prepare to be shocked.”

Jun-hoo approached Ha-na and presented the evidence he had gathered.

Screenshots of social media posts.

The video of Seung-beom and his gang taking pictures in the lab.

Even audio files.

Wrinkles began to appear on Ha-na’s forehead as she reviewed the evidence.

“Oh my! Are they really crazy? Are they even human?”

Ha-na shook her head in disbelief and shuddered. It was the reaction Jun-hoo had anticipated and desired.

“With this much evidence, can’t they be adequately disciplined?”

“Hmm… It’s not within my authority, but it won’t be overlooked. The department head is very strict about these matters.”

“….”

“I’m telling you this because the department head has a class today.”

“Thank you.”

Jun-hoo smiled contentedly, imagining the punishment that awaited Seung-beom.

‘Yes, if you’ve done something wrong, you have to face the consequences.’

It was unlikely that Seung-beom would truly learn his lesson even after being disciplined.

But from now on, he would think twice before acting.

That alone was a significant victory.

“By the way, you’re like a detective. How did you manage to gather all this evidence in such a short amount of time?”

Ha-na asked, admiring his resourcefulness.

It was difficult for ordinary people to assess the situation and act as decisively as Jun-hoo.

What if Ha-na had been at the scene?

She would have simply thought, ‘Those idiots are doing stupid things again.’

She wouldn’t have considered collecting evidence like Jun-hoo and holding Seung-beom and his gang accountable.

But Jun-hoo had instinctively delivered a remarkable performance.

Enough to make Ha-na think of him as a detective.

She had been observing him for a while, and Jun-hoo possessed a unique quality even among medical students.

“When you punish bad guys, you have to be as ruthless as they are. I’m a very ruthless guy, even if I don’t look like it.”

“Well, graduating at the top of your class and getting straight A+s for two years is ruthless enough,” Ha-na chuckled.

“By the way, the anatomy professor also praised you.”

“The anatomy professor?”

Jun-hoo tilted his head in confusion.

He didn’t recall being praised by the professor during the lab session.

“He said you’re calm and have excellent hand skills. The professor said you were the most skilled student he’s ever had in the lab.”

“I didn’t hear that….”

“He’s not the type to offer praise openly. So, don’t mention that you heard it from me.”

“Okay.”

Jun-hoo pretended to zip his lips shut with his hand.

He was pleased to hear that the taciturn anatomy professor had complimented him.

It felt like he was being recognized for his potential as a doctor.

Since he was already in the department office, Jun-hoo engaged in a bit more conversation with Ha-na.

The topic was the cadaver.

He was concerned about the blue strangulation mark (the trace of a rope) left on the deceased’s neck.

“Do you know anything about the cadaver in Group 1?”

“Yes. Unfortunately, it was someone who took their own life, and their family personally came to the office to donate the body.”

“I’m truly sorry, but did they die by hanging themselves?”

“They did attempt to hang themselves, but they failed, and I heard they eventually died from carbon monoxide poisoning using briquettes [a type of charcoal used for heating or cooking in Korea].”

Ha-na answered in a somber tone.

But Ha-na’s answer struck Jun-hoo like a hammer blow to the head.

His head was reeling from the impact.

The cadaver that Jun-hoo had examined and the information Ha-na provided were creating a contradiction.

If the deceased had died from carbon monoxide poisoning, there should have been soot in their lungs.

Because they would have inhaled briquette smoke while alive.

But as Jun-hoo recalled, there was no soot in the deceased’s lungs.

There was no way Jun-hoo could have been mistaken.

Because today’s lab session focused on the lungs, so he had been examining them for two hours.

If there was no soot in the lungs, there was only one possible conclusion.

The patient died of asphyxiation due to cervical compression from a rope or string.

But that didn’t make sense.

If the deceased had died from cervical compression asphyxiation, how could they have then lit the briquettes themselves?

Therefore, there was only one conclusion.

The deceased did not commit suicide.

Someone strangled the deceased with a rope and then intentionally manipulated the scene to make it appear as though they had committed suicide using briquettes.

A sudden chill washed over his entire body.

Jun-hoo felt the urgent need to confirm whether his reasoning was correct.

“Teaching assistant, can I get more details about the deceased?”