A Surgeon Who Uses Martial Arts [EN]: Chapter 502

502. The Challenger (3)

It was a weekend morning.

Jun-hoo drove toward Gwanghwamun Kyobo Bookstore.

The sunlight was intense, even early in the day.

It pierced through the tinted windows, pricking Jun-hoo’s eyes like needles.

The season when Jun-hoo was appointed head of department at Shinwon University Hospital in Busan was spring, but summer had already arrived.

‘How have you been?’

If someone asked him that, Jun-hoo wouldn’t know where to begin.

Or, more precisely, he had so much to say he was overwhelmed.

But if he had to prioritize, he’d start with the hospital.

He’d been seeing outpatients whose appointments had been delayed for six months and performing surgeries according to schedule.

Thanks to that, Jun-hoo’s reputation and fame soared daily.

A real doctor.

A doctor with a sense of duty.

A sacrificing doctor.

He had far surpassed the popularity of Professor Lee Jong-guk, who once informed the public about the terrible reality of the Korean medical community and struggled to save patients.

Unlike Professor Lee Jong-guk, Jun-hoo actively used NewTube [Korean version of YouTube] and social media, and he didn’t refuse invitations to entertainment programs.

Jun-hoo’s purpose was twofold.

In addition to treating patients, he wanted to become a shining star surgeon and inspire prospective doctors to dream of majoring in neurosurgery.

While the seasons changed, some things didn’t.

Jun-hoo was more concerned and bothered by these unchanging issues.

One was the political infighting within the neurosurgery department.

He’d succeeded in bringing professors who advocated neutrality into his fold.

But he failed to absorb Kim Han-sang and his cronies, the old guard who accounted for the vast majority of the department’s power.

The resistance of the entrenched old guard was formidable.

Even when Jun-hoo, the rolling stone, roughly pushed and shook them, they remained unmoved.

The more that happened, the more Kim Han-sang and his group united, expressing antipathy toward Jun-hoo.

They poured out blatant checks and jealousy.

Sitting separately at the morning conference.

Speaking ill of Jun-hoo at external seminars.

Using connections to undermine the papers Jun-hoo had published, and so on.

They unleashed dirty tricks on Jun-hoo without blinking an eye.

The problem was that these attacks were so subtle it was difficult to find fault with them, making it difficult to counterattack.

‘Weakening them with jabs is meaningless.’

‘I need to knock them down with a hook or a straight punch.’

To crush Kim Han-sang’s gang, he needed a ‘decisive move,’ as they say in martial arts.

The decisive move Jun-hoo chose was epilepsy robot surgery, but the hospital director, who said he’d contact him within two days, had been silent for a long time.

He was like a messenger who never returned.

He’d tried to contact him a few times but only heard excuses and pretexts that it would take longer than he thought.

‘I’ll have to go see him in person soon. It’s time to settle things.’

A determined light flickered in Jun-hoo’s eyes.

The establishment of an epilepsy clinic and the start of epilepsy robot surgery were his goals.

To this end, Jun-hoo hadn’t been idle.

He was preparing a clever plan to change the hospital director’s mind.

While thinking about this and that, he arrived at the Kyobo Bookstore parking lot.

After unfastening his seatbelt, Jun-hoo glanced at a book on the passenger seat.

The book cover was covered with traces resembling knife marks, which were difficult to understand.

The book’s title was “Neurosurgeon Seo Jun-hoo.”

Looking at the book, both cheeks flushed, and even his earlobes turned red.

It was Jun-hoo’s first essay collection, based on interviews about his medical life and written by a ghostwriter, and today was the day of the offline autograph session.

* * *

“Are you Dr. Seo Jun-hoo? Please sign this for me.”

“Me too!”

“Hey, that’s Dr. Seo Jun-hoo over there!”

Walking from the parking lot to the bookstore, Jun-hoo had become a pied piper.

People who recognized him rushed in like a swarm of bees, requesting autographs, handshakes, and photos.

Jun-hoo’s fan base was diverse, including fans as young as middle and high school students, young professionals in neat attire, and even the elderly with graying hair.

He had attracted the younger generation through NewTube and social media and captivated the middle-aged and older generations by appearing on TV shows.

Jun-hoo smiled awkwardly and embarrassedly as he greeted his fans.

‘What is this? I’m not a celebrity; I’m a doctor.’

This was always the case when he went out these days.

‘From now on, I should wear a mask and hat or use reverse aging techniques when I go outside.’

Jun-hoo used martial arts-like precision to deal with the rushing fans, signing quickly, shaking hands, and taking selfies with his face on the cell phones handed over by fans.

The movements were as natural and smooth as martial arts.

The fans were once again impressed by his demeanor.

“I’m sorry, I have a schedule.”

Before new fans rushed in, Jun-hoo stepped away, not stopping until he arrived at Kyobo Bookstore and found the staff room.

Knock, knock, knock.

A voice told him to come in when he knocked, and Jun-hoo hurriedly entered.

Two men were in the staff room.

One was a familiar face: Sung Gwang-hyun, the CEO of Yena Cherry Publishing.

The other was Lee Gi-cheol, the manager of Kyobo Bookstore.

The two men were sitting side by side on the sofa, talking.

“It must have been difficult getting here. It’s a problem to be so popular,” Sung Gwang-hyun said with a smile, as if he knew Jun-hoo’s situation.

“Well, that’s how it is. I wanted to see my book on display, but I’ll have to see it later.”

Lee Gi-cheol, who had been silent, joined the conversation, also beaming.

“Are the book sales going well?”

“Huh? You still don’t know that?” Lee Gi-cheol’s eyes widened in surprise, as if they were about to pop out of his head.

“I didn’t look it up separately. I was embarrassed,” Jun-hoo replied, scratching the back of his head.

He wasn’t embarrassed to be recognized for his medical skills; that was his area of expertise.

But in a field other than his major—publishing—it was awkward and embarrassing to be noticed for something he didn’t write himself but was written by a ghostwriter.

“Didn’t the CEO tell you the sales figures either?”

“He only told me that it went into the 10th printing. He said there was no need to tell me everything.”

“At the current sales volume…” Lee Gi-cheol paused before continuing.

“It wouldn’t be strange if it was chosen as the book of the year. It’s only been two weeks, and it’s already sold 100,000 copies.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. It’s not a whirlwind; it’s a typhoon.”

“……”

“Besides, the CEO didn’t do any self-purchasing, did he?” Lee Gi-cheol’s gaze rested on Sung Gwang-hyun, who nodded vigorously.

Self-purchasing was when a publishing company bought its own books to inflate sales figures to get events from the bookstore or to find something to advertise the book.

However, the so-called ‘invisible hand’ didn’t work at all in Jun-hoo’s essay.

It was purely recording explosive sales due to fan sentiment.

“The CEO’s planning was good, and it’s also thanks to the writer who wrote the story in a delicious way.”

“But wouldn’t the source of the story be with you?” Lee Gi-cheol said with a smile.

“I’ve read the book too, but I don’t know how you lived such a dramatic and movie-like life.”

“Well, I guess I was born with a lot of work [Korean idiom for being destined for hardship and success].”

“It’s almost time. Let’s move.”

The three men left the staff room together.

The bookstore was crowded with customers because it was the weekend. The ends of the corridors and aisles were not visible due to the customers coming and going.

The footsteps and voices of people mingled with the classical music played by the bookstore.

That was also a kind of music.

The store had a subtle scent of cypress wood that could only be found at Kyobo Bookstore.

With the birth of e-books, many people warned that the era of paper books would end, but paper books have survived.

The value of physical objects will not change even if the times change.

“Do you like it?”

“This… I’m overwhelmed?”

Jun-hoo shifted uncomfortably as he looked at the places Lee Gi-cheol pointed to.

There was a stand in the center of the bookstore that only handled Jun-hoo’s essays.

The book was also on the essay stand, in the section that only handled bestsellers, located at the highest and leftmost position.

‘I didn’t want it to be this famous and successful…’

A subtle smile appeared on Jun-hoo’s lips.

The autograph session was held near the entrance connected to the ground.

The backdrop sign had a large phrase that said, “Neurosurgeon Seo Jun-hoo 100,000 Copies Sold Autograph Session.”

A long horizontal table and pen were placed in front of it.

The autograph session participants were already standing in a long line under the control of the staff.

The line was like an endless rope, stretching all the way outside the store because the space inside was too small.

Jun-hoo rubbed his eyes.

It was a reality that didn’t change even if he closed and opened his eyes several times.

“It’s amazing, right?” Lee Gi-cheol said in an excited voice, as if it were his own autograph session.

“It’s amazing, but on the other hand, I’m worried. I think the weather outside is 28 degrees Celsius [82 degrees Fahrenheit] right now.”

Lee Gi-cheol was inwardly impressed by Jun-hoo’s words.

He was kind to worry about the fans waiting rather than being excited about the number of fans.

“Manager, is it possible to rent the entire coffee shop inside the bookstore?”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean. I want to treat the people who came to the autograph session to iced coffee by renting the store.”

“Ha… that’s…”

Lee Gi-cheol, embarrassed, scratched his cheek with his index finger.

An author who attends an autograph session spends his own money to give coffee to fans?

It was the first time in his life.

“It’s going to cost a lot.”

“The money I’ve saved up is no joke either,” Jun-hoo replied jokingly.

“There are two cafes in the store, but I’ll talk to both of them first.”

“First of all, if you get permission, please tell them that I will compensate the cafe staff separately because they will also have a hard time.”

“You don’t have to go that far.”

“I don’t want my ears to itch [feel guilty] while the autograph session is going on.”

Jun-hoo smiled and sat down at the autograph session table.

“Wow!”

“Teacher, you look better in person!”

“I came from Japan by plane!”

The autograph session participants, who had been waiting eagerly for Jun-hoo, shouted and cheered like thunder.

The noisy sound made other customers glance at the autograph session.

‘Now I know why people are so enthusiastic about you,’ Lee Gi-cheol muttered to himself.

* * *

The autograph session proceeded smoothly.

When a participant sat across from Jun-hoo, Jun-hoo signed the participant’s book and exchanged a few words.

‘How can I repay the people who have come from afar?’

After much thought, Jun-hoo used Jecheon Gong [a fictional martial arts technique].

He wrapped the fan and himself in internal energy to create a different timeline from the surroundings.

From the fan’s point of view, the longer they spent time with Jun-hoo, the happier they would be.

It also had the effect of increasing the proficiency of Jecheon Gong.

One of the cafes in the store accepted Jun-hoo’s offer, and cool iced coffee was soon in the hands of the participants.

The fans praised Jun-hoo, saying that this was also Jun-hoo’s dignity.

The autograph session passed the first hour and entered the second, and it still seemed to be going smoothly.