A Surgeon Who Uses Martial Arts [EN]: Chapter 399

Chapter 77: What Remains (4)

Early morning, as the east began to glow.

Jun-hoo sat cross-legged in a corner of the dormitory.

“The wind is ever-changing, roaming through heaven and earth.

It can dwell anywhere, yet it dwells nowhere.

From high places to low places.

And from low places to high places.

Embracing all things in an endless cycle.

He who can become the wind shall become the world, and he who wishes to become the world must become the wind.”

Jun-hoo’s brow furrowed as he recited the *Gyeol* [core mantra or secret formula] of the Clear Wind Mind Method.

A certain realization flashed through his mind.

It was a crucial insight that seemed like it would greatly aid in transcending the Hwagyeong realm [a high level of martial arts mastery].

But in the brief moment he lost his breath.

The realization abandoned Jun-hoo and fled.

Jun-hoo belatedly chased after it, but it was no use.

Just as lost time cannot be regained, neither could the lost realization.

“Hah…”

A sigh escaped Jun-hoo’s lips.

Perhaps it was because the disappointment was so great.

His concentration hit rock bottom.

Even his will to train was completely broken.

Jun-hoo unfolded his legs and stretched them out on the floor.

He leaned his back against the wall and looked up at the ceiling.

It had already been almost seven years since he had received the Boost Up Program training.

The cerebrovascular part.

The brain tumor part.

The pediatric neurology part.

The orthopedic (neck and back) part.

The stereotactic neurosurgery (dementia, Parkinson’s) part.

The hand surgery part.

The trauma surgery part.

He had mastered all the sub-specialties in neurosurgery, but he had not made any significant progress in martial arts.

Like the Murim [martial arts world], Jun-hoo remained in the Hwagyeong realm.

The path to Hyeon-gyeong [a higher level of martial arts mastery] was long and arduous.

It felt as if, whenever Jun-hoo took one step closer, the Hyeon-gyeong realm would take two or three steps away from him.

‘Is it really impossible? Should I give up?’

A self-deprecating smile appeared on Jun-hoo’s lips.

Frankly, even if he wasn’t in the Hyeon-gyeong realm.

Jun-hoo was the only monster on Earth who had mastered martial arts and internal energy.

Based on that strength, he had almost reached the pinnacle as a neurosurgical surgeon.

It might sound arrogant, but he wondered if there was any way to grow further in his current situation.

But why?

Jun-hoo still couldn’t let go of his attachment to the Hyeon-gyeong realm.

Was Jun-hoo unable to let go of Hyeon-gyeong?

Or was Hyeon-gyeong not letting go of Jun-hoo?

Now, he couldn’t tell which of the two was true.

‘Why, though….’

Jun-hoo persistently asked himself.

And he finally found the answer.

The answer was in the health bracelet Jun-hoo was wearing.

Jun-hoo lowered his head and looked down at the bracelet.

Seong-ho’s bracelet, who had fallen into brain death due to a T.A (traffic accident), donated his organs, and passed away.

The bracelet, which he had worn for over 10 years, was rusted in places.

Brain death, vegetative state.

Jun-hoo repeated the names of the diseases that made neurosurgical surgeons the most helpless.

Medicine was developing rapidly, but no treatment had been found for brain death and vegetative states.

No, they hadn’t even found a clue.

‘I must be hoping for a miracle.’

Jun-hoo chuckled.

The masters of Hyeon-gyeong achieved a state of oneness with nature and performed amazing feats.

If the power gained from becoming a master of Hyeon-gyeong could be combined with modern medical procedures, wouldn’t it be possible to treat brain death and vegetative states?

Jun-hoo was likely obsessed with Hyeon-gyeong for that very reason.

“Hyung [older brother or close male friend], I’ll keep my promise, no matter what. You know I’m a man of my word.”

With a wistful expression, Jun-hoo stroked the bracelet with one hand.

* * *

After showering, Jun-hoo changed his clothes and put on a doctor’s gown over them.

Seven badges were attached to the left chest of the doctor’s gown.

The golden badges had the capital letter ‘M’ engraved in the center.

‘M’ was short for Master.

The reason why there were seven badges was that Jun-hoo had achieved the highest score in all the subjects he had learned in the Boost Up Program.

Jun-hoo left the dormitory and went to the roof of the building.

The round, orange-yellow morning sun was just escaping the horizon.

Whish.

The fierce, cold wind of January whipped across Jun-hoo’s face.

But Jun-hoo’s expression remained unchanged.

Although he had not achieved the Hyeon-gyeong realm, Jun-hoo was immune to the cold and heat.

Hanseobulchim [immunity to cold and heat].

This referred to a state of not feeling cold or heat.

Hyeon-gyeong = Mandokbulchim [immunity to poison] = Hanseobulchim.

These three usually went together, but Jun-hoo had only failed to achieve Hyeon-gyeong out of the three.

It was a very special case.

Why?

Because he possessed an enormous amount of internal energy.

Usually, Murim people only accumulated internal energy in their dantian [energy center in the body].

But Jun-hoo, with the help (?) of fantasy novels, had also learned to use mana circles.

Thanks to seven years of constant training, Jun-hoo had accumulated a mana circle of up to 6 circles.

It was like having two dantians.

As internal energy overflowed throughout his body, he naturally became detoxified and became a body that could not feel cold or heat.

Like doing calisthenics in the moonlight.

Jun-hoo practiced martial arts alone on the roof.

He nimbly stepped on the footwork.

He also unfolded the Blue Dragon Fist Technique, which the family was so proud of.

Jun-hoo’s fist became the dragon’s head, then its body, and then its tail.

No, Jun-hoo was no different from a dragon.

If someone had watched Jun-hoo’s training, they would have been shocked.

Each movement was powerful and so fast that it was hard to see.

If that someone was a martial arts fighter, they might have felt a great sense of frustration.

Jun-hoo’s body had already transcended humanity.

For about an hour.

Jun-hoo stopped training only after reviewing each of the martial arts he had learned in the Murim.

“Whew, I feel alive now.”

Jun-hoo muttered with a refreshed expression.

Even with overflowing internal energy, there were problems.

Recently, he had often felt like he couldn’t control the surging power.

After finishing his warm-up, Jun-hoo moved to the first-floor cafeteria.

Just in time, he ran into Oliver and Maxwell at the entrance of the cafeteria.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning.”

Jun-hoo responded to the two men’s greetings with a wave of his hand.

Then, he filled his tray with food, sat down, and began to eat.

While eating.

Jun-hoo briefly raised his head and stared at his two friends.

It felt like only yesterday that they had become the Three Musketeers.

This year marked the seventh year he had spent with these guys.

“Is there something on my face?”

Maxwell noticed Jun-hoo’s gaze and touched his face with one hand.

“No, I was just thinking about how quickly time has passed. But you’re good with your left hand now, too?”

“I don’t think it matters anymore whether I use my left or right hand.”

A triumphant smile appeared on Maxwell’s lips.

Maxwell proudly used his left hand to pick up vegetables with chopsticks and eat them.

And Oliver watched the scene with an envious expression.

“Should I have listened to Jun-hoo? I didn’t follow along because I thought it would make me look stupid….”

“It’s not too late now. If you keep at it, you’ll be able to catch up with this body. Of course, my hand movements will be even better than they are now by then.”

“Your arrogance is piercing the sky.”

“I’m sorry, Master. How dare I act up in front of the Master….”

Maxwell playfully paid his respects at Jun-hoo’s remark.

Jun-hoo almost smiled, but he closed his mouth. He almost spat out his food.

Over the past seven years.

Jun-hoo had taken Maxwell as his disciple.

He taught him the Crushing Finger Skill, the Yang Hand Vortex Technique, and even partially taught him the Tiger-Wolf Twelve Styles.

Could others grow through martial arts, just as Jun-hoo himself had grown?

He wanted to confirm that point.

The result was a great success.

Maxwell, who was standing in front of him, was living proof.

Maxwell persistently followed the martial arts training that other colleagues avoided, calling it foolish.

And Maxwell became the undisputed number two in the Boost Up Program.

It was probably around the fourth year.

That was when Maxwell had surpassed Raymond.

‘Then that means the martial arts training method works 100 percent in Korea as well. I have to teach martial arts unconditionally when I teach future generations.’

The more skilled surgeons, the better.

Jun-hoo briefly thought about future generations.

This year, he was 37 years old.

Six years of medical school, one year of internship, four years of residency, and seven years of the Boost Up Program.

Jun-hoo’s career had now reached a level that could not be ignored.

It was time to start teaching subordinates.

“So, Jun-hoo, what are you going to do now?”

Oliver asked Jun-hoo.

The Boost Up training had virtually ended yesterday.

They were free until the graduation ceremony in four days. So many colleagues had gone back to their hometowns or gone on trips.

“Me? I have to go back to Korea.”

“Why bother going back to Korea to suffer? I heard Korean surgeons don’t get paid much and the benefits are terrible.”

“That’s why I’m needed. That’s why I participated in the Boost Up Program in the first place.”

“….”

“I’ve mastered seven specialties, so now I can treat any patient related to neurosurgery by myself.”

Jun-hoo’s answer was straightforward.

Because he had never lost his initial intention while training in the United States.

Since he had mastered seven majors, Jun-hoo could do the work of seven people.

“This is a bit of a sensitive topic… but at this point, aren’t you abusing yourself?”

“….”

“Why don’t you live a leisurely life while you’re here in Mayo?”

Oliver asked, watching Jun-hoo’s reaction.

Depending on your point of view, it might seem that way.

“I’ll retire someday, so I’ll take it easy then. Oliver, where are you going after you graduate?”

“Me… I’m going to stay at Mayo Pediatric Neurosurgery.”

Oliver shrugged his shoulders.

Even if you graduated from the Boost Up Program, you had to choose one major.

There was no such thing as a general neurosurgery department.

“Because of Professor Austin?”

“You’re quick to notice. That’s right. I want to become an authority figure following in my father’s footsteps.”

After finishing the conversation, Jun-hoo and Oliver stared at Maxwell.

It was a look that asked where he was going.

“I don’t really have anything planned… I’m thinking of taking a break for about a year.”

“You’re going to rest for a year? Your hands will get rusty.”

Oliver shook his head.

“Why would my hands get rusty? Jun-hoo taught me the training method. Anyway, I’m going to take some time off and think about which major to choose.”

“….”

“I’ve been working like a dog for seven years, right? It wouldn’t be strange to take a sabbatical.”

At the Boost Up Program, the three people’s paths diverged.

Jun-hoo’s heart felt heavy at the thought of having to part with his close friends.

But where there is parting, there is meeting.

Jun-hoo believed that he would surely meet new relationships in his home country, which he would be returning to after seven years.

“Maxwell.”

“What?”

“Do you ever think about coming to Korea later? I might need your help.”

“I’ll think about it if you take care of my salary and benefits.”

“Thank you. Thank you for at least leaving the possibility open.”

“I have a question too.”

“What is it?”

“Can’t you just give me one? It already says on the website that you’re a Grand Master.”

Maxwell asked, pointing to the badge on Jun-hoo’s chest.

“Tsk, you troublemaker. You should covet something else. And what’s the point of having a badge? You have to have the skills to back it up.”

“No, can’t I even ask? I’m not saying I’m going to imitate the master with the badge, I’m just saying I want to get one for decoration.”

Jun-hoo chuckled as he watched the two bickering.

He also thought that there wasn’t much time left to enjoy this delightful quarrel.

Bzzzz.

Just then, the cell phone in his gown vibrated.

Was it the NewTube editor?

He had sent a text saying he would call yesterday.

Jun-hoo’s eyes narrowed as he casually checked the number.

‘This number is…….’

It was the number of the hand surgeon.