A Surgeon Who Uses Martial Arts [EN]: Chapter 419

“Ugh….”

That pain again.

A pain like an ice pick stabbing his cheekbone.

The pain was sharp, yet cold.

Cheol-soon clenched his teeth and placed a hand on his left cheek.

Not that it made the pain go away.

Cheol-soon knew that well.

But it made him feel better, as if he were controlling the pain like he controlled his unit.

*Are you trying to intimidate me with a battle of wills?*

*Or….*

*Is he really a renowned doctor?*

Cheol-soon stared at the sofa where Jun-hoo had been sitting.

When unsure, the first step was to gather information.

Cheol-soon picked up his phone.

It felt a bit silly, but he searched for Jun-hoo’s name online.

“What… what is this?”

Cheol-soon’s eyes widened like an owl’s.

The news section overflowed with stories about Jun-hoo.

There were recent articles from just a week ago, detailing his training in the United States.

He had successfully performed difficult surgeries.

He had saved a critically ill patient outside the hospital.

He had helped patients with financial difficulties, and so on.

The articles about Jun-hoo were endless. He’d tire his thumb out if he kept scrolling.

After finishing the search, Cheol-soon decided to trust Jun-hoo.

He doubted he had such a serious disease, but a checkup wouldn’t hurt.

If he was normal, that was good.

If he was a patient, it would be good to get treatment quickly.

Perhaps Cheol-soon had doubted Jun-hoo because… he simply didn’t want to accept the fact that he might have a difficult disease.

“Yes, please cancel my appointment.”

Cheol-soon immediately called the dentist, canceling his appointment for the day.

If it wasn’t a toothache, there was no need to see a dentist.

Whoosh.

At quitting time, Cheol-soon drove his sedan out of the military base from the officers’ parking lot.

He went to a general hospital twenty minutes from his house.

After a long and tedious wait, he met with an emergency physician and explained his symptoms.

The emergency physician’s expression wasn’t good.

He, too, suspected ‘that disease,’ just like Jun-hoo.

“I’ve contacted a neurologist. Speak with them for more details.”

The emergency physician continued, “Just in case, let’s get an MRI [Magnetic Resonance Imaging].”

“An MRI?”

“An MRI is needed to confirm the diagnosis. A physical exam has its limitations.”

Cheol-soon tilted his head at the emergency physician’s explanation.

*Then how was Jun-hoo so sure that he had ‘that disease?’*

*Why did he tell him to go to the emergency room of a hospital with a neurology department today?*

It was a mystery.

“Is there a chance that it’s not trigeminal neuralgia [a chronic pain condition affecting the trigeminal nerve in the face]?”

“Of course, there is. It’s rare to diagnose a disease without testing.”

“I see.”

Cheol-soon had an MRI scan as recommended by the emergency physician.

Inside the narrow and stuffy imaging machine, he closed his eyes to the pitch-black darkness.

The whirring vibration of the machine made him feel like an astronaut abandoned in space.

To overcome the loneliness, Cheol-soon repeated the disease, trigeminal neuralgia, in his mind.

*Trigeminal neuralgia.*

*The nerves related to the face and head are called the trigeminal nerve.*

*Trigeminal neuralgia occurs when there is a pathological change in the trigeminal nerve due to trauma or an unknown cause.*

According to his search, surgery may be required in severe cases.

*-Don’t worry too much. It’s not to the point where you need surgery.*

Jun-hoo had clearly said that.

He didn’t know if it was because he was confident in his diagnosis or if he was just trying to reassure Cheol-soon.

After the test, he returned to the emergency room.

Thirty minutes later, Cheol-soon faced the neurologist.

“The disease you have is trigeminal neuralgia.”

The neurologist pointed to a part of the MRI with the mouse pointer and continued, “A branch of the vein is pressing on the trigeminal nerve. That’s why your face felt cold.”

He didn’t know exactly what he meant, but it sounded serious.

It seemed like something big had happened to his body.

Cheol-soon, always stern in front of his unit, asked with a frightened expression, “Then do I need surgery?”

The neurologist’s answer was a masterpiece.

“Don’t worry too much. It’s not to the point where you need surgery.”

It was definitely something he had heard from someone somewhere.

* * *

That evening, Jun-hoo drove back to Seoul and parked his car in a paid parking lot near Shinwon University Hospital.

*It feels empty.*

A bitter smile touched Jun-hoo’s lips as he left the parking lot.

It was certainly rewarding to be responsible for the health of young Korean men serving in the military as a medical officer.

That day alone, he had seen nearly ten patients, including one with early-stage lumbar disc [a condition where the soft material inside a spinal disc pushes out].

If Jun-hoo hadn’t pushed the patient’s spinal cord in with his internal energy, the patient would have been diagnosed with a disc around the time of his discharge.

But there was also an unbearable thirst—the thirst for ‘surgery.’

Even as a medical company commander, Jun-hoo couldn’t perform surgery because he wasn’t affiliated with a military hospital.

He couldn’t perform surgery for the next three years!

This was like throwing away the skills he had honed at Mayo for seven years into the sewer.

*Is there any way?*

Jun-hoo was deep in thought.

Since it was after 6 p.m., which was quitting time, should he get a part-time job?

That was the best way.

There was a shortage of surgeons in the surgical field.

But the problem was that this could lead to legal issues.

The military didn’t allow medical officers to hold concurrent positions.

Even if he avoided the legal net, it wasn’t a panacea [a solution for all difficulties].

While secretly working at a hospital, or while performing surgery, what if an emergency patient occurred in the unit?

It was a dangerous situation where he couldn’t abandon the patient he was operating on and couldn’t avoid going to the unit.

*Is there only one way after all?*

Jun-hoo suddenly came up with a solution and nodded.

There was only one way to perform surgery without legal problems, and it was something only Jun-hoo could do in Korea.

Beep, beep, beep.

The phone rang just in time.

It wasn’t the call he was waiting for.

“Hello, Manager.”

Jun-hoo said in a welcoming voice.

-Yes, Doctor. It’s been a while since I contacted you. How are you doing these days?

“There’s no end to it. How about you, Manager?”

Jun-hoo’s caller was Young-eun, the manager of the MCN [Multi-Channel Network] company.

-I’m fine, but my neck is stiff these days. I think I have turtle neck and rounded shoulders.

Turtle neck and rounded shoulders usually went hand in hand, caused by sticking their necks forward and rolling their shoulders forward to see the monitor up close. It was also a common ailment of modern people.

-Aren’t you actually smiling, Doctor?

Young-eun’s voice was filled with laughter.

“What do you mean?”

-Because the person who nags you to film videos is gone.

“Nags? They were all words that would become flesh and blood.”

Jun-hoo chuckled.

Another problem arose when he enlisted: the principle of concurrent positions also held him back.

Filming and uploading NewTube videos was also prohibited.

In other words, Jun-hoo’s NewTube was closed for the next three years.

-I’ll try to keep the channel alive as much as possible. I’ll edit the existing videos, create a compilation, or upload videos that I haven’t uploaded. Then the NewTube revenue will continue to come in.

“Is that okay?”

-I checked, and it’s okay. It’s not like you’re filming new videos or editing them.

“Thank you, Young-eun.”

Jun-hoo said sincerely.

Honestly, there was no reason for Young-eun to take care of Jun-hoo this much.

If he didn’t upload a video for six months and the revenue generation was blocked, it was a problem to be passed over.

Another manager would have welcomed it with open arms, saying that there was less work to do.

“In that sense, how about this weekend? I’ll treat you to a nice meal.”

-Really? I don’t refuse things like this.

“Think about what you want to eat in advance.”

-Thank you, Doctor. I’ll contact you again.

The call ended like that.

*I should take this opportunity to see if I can treat turtle neck and rounded shoulders.*

Jun-hoo muttered, putting his phone in his pants pocket.

There was a martial art that moved bones.

The most representative were Yookyongsool [a martial art focused on manipulating bones and muscles] and Chukgolgong [a similar martial art with more dramatic effects].

Yookyongsool was a skill that changed one’s appearance by manipulating bones and muscles.

Chukgolgong was similar to Yookyongsool but had a more dramatic effect, even dislocating bones.

If he made good use of the principles of Yookyongsool and Chukgolgong, he might be able to conquer turtle neck and rounded shoulders.

He would have to experiment to find out more.

Shinwon University Hospital, which he had arrived at while thinking about this and that… The current time was 6:40 p.m.

Because the outpatient hours were over, there were few people entering the hospital.

The sidewalk leading to the main building was emptier than usual.

He couldn’t perform surgery even though the hospital was right in front of him…! Could there be anything more frustrating than this?

Jun-hoo hesitated in front of the main building, waiting for someone.

It was 8 o’clock.

Even though it was the appointment time, the other person didn’t appear.

*Is something wrong?*

Feeling uneasy, Jun-hoo called the other person. Only the ringing tone echoed emptily, and there was no answer.

In fact, the person Jun-hoo was waiting for was Ah-young.

They were supposed to have a date tonight.

Just in case, Jun-hoo also called the on-call room of the Department of Thoracic Surgery.

There was no answer either.

Then there was only one thing he could think of: Ah-young must have gone into emergency surgery and was probably too busy to contact him.

He didn’t know when she went into surgery, but he would have to spend at least another one to two hours alone.

Step. Step.

Jun-hoo turned around without regret.

He paid the hourly rate at a motel near the station and went into the room.

He didn’t come in to rest.

He hadn’t performed surgery, so he hadn’t spent enough energy to need to rest.

Internal energy stored in the dantian [an energy center in the body].

Thanks to the 6-circle mana circle, he didn’t know what fatigue was.

Rather, Jun-hoo came to the motel to expend energy.

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

Paht! Paht! Paht!

He stimulated the optic nerve located in the back of his head with a finger containing internal energy.

Instantly, his eyesight improved, and things looked clearer and more precise.

It was a little different from improving eyesight with internal energy.

He closed his eyes.

Using the black darkness as a canvas, Jun-hoo drew a picture.

The optic nerve, stimulated by the pressure point technique, was frantically drawing the picture Jun-hoo wanted.

About five minutes passed.

A surgery room unfolded in Jun-hoo’s mind—a cold operating table and bright surgical lights, a patient monitoring device emitting beeping sounds, and a dressing cart with surgical instruments neatly arranged.

On the operating table lay the conjoined twins he had struggled to separate in the past.

Jun-hoo recreated the surgery exactly as it had been.

Because he had stimulated the optic nerve, he was able to recreate past memories exactly as they were in reality.

When he concentrated once more, he could create glorious colleagues who had been with him in the past: Austin, Hector, and Raymond, all realistically rendered!

This was the ingenious plan Jun-hoo had come up with earlier: imaginary surgery.

Who could arrest Jun-hoo if he performed surgery in his head?

*Shall we start?*

Jun-hoo winked at Austin and stood in the surgeon’s seat.

Unlike in the past, Jun-hoo was the surgeon in his imagination.