Surviving as a Rogue Hospital Director - Chapter 137

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 137.
Beom-jun visited the Korean Traditional Restaurant near Korea University Hospital once again.
In the narrow alley where cars couldn’t enter, a single streetlamp illuminated the front of the restaurant. It was getting close to eight o’clock, and the air outside still held a chill.
Beom-jun wrapped his coat tighter against the biting wind.
‘It’s been a while since I’ve been here.’
This was his third visit since the possession. He’d come here almost as often as he visited Im Sung-hyuk’s soup restaurant. Good memories came with this place too—it was where he’d acquired Min Jeong-sik and Gu Hui-jeong as Talents.
The restaurant, converted from an old hanok, remained unchanged. Beneath the dark-tiled roof, the large wooden gate bore the weathering of years, its lacquer flaking in patches. The brass handle, worn smooth by countless hands, gleamed distinctly.
“Welcome.”
“Director, you’re here? It’s been so long since your last visit.”
An employee who’d seen him a few times before greeted Beom-jun warmly, her face brightening. The interior was fairly quiet, perhaps because of the late hour.
“I have a reservation. You have a table, yes?”
“Ah, of course. May I have the name on the reservation, please?”
“It should be under Kang Yo-han.”
The employee flinched at Beom-jun’s answer. She clearly recognized that Kang Yo-han was the director of Saint Hospital. And with that, she guided Beom-jun to his seat.
“This way, please. It’s the innermost room. This is where our most distinguished guests sit.”
The spot she led him to had a tiger painting hanging above it. She pointed directly below the painting with her hand.
“Please sit here, Director. The energy is good in this spot.”
The employee spoke in hushed, confidential tones.
“Director Kang made the reservation, didn’t he?”
Beom-jun asked at this unexpected warmth. The hospitality felt excessive, somehow. The actual reservation was under someone else’s name, yet the employee who recognized him was offering special treatment.
The employee began to explain in response to his question.
“Many people from Korea University Hospital come to our restaurant. They talk about the hospital a lot these days. Everyone says it’s gotten better and they’re very satisfied with it.”
“Ah, is that so.”
The employee’s words caught him off guard. Beom-jun felt embarrassed. There was no place more honest than a restaurant when it came to the truth.
‘I wish people didn’t complain about their jobs, but they said it got better? This is awkward. Everything I did was supposed to help me survive.’
In hindsight, everything Beom-jun had desperately done to survive had benefited Korea University Hospital. The more quests he cleared, the more they helped with hospital management.
“And word seems to have spread that you’ve been coming here, Director. We’ve had noticeably more customers lately.”
Beom-jun laughed quietly at her words.
So that’s why they treated him so well—the restaurant had apparently thrived since he’d started frequenting it. He wasn’t just any customer; a hospital director being a regular patron naturally attracted attention.
“We feel like we received good fortune from you, so we’d like to share it back. This tiger painting is said to be very auspicious.”
The restaurant employee looked after Beom-jun carefully as she spoke. He found it slightly amusing that she called a painting blessed, not an actual tiger.
“Ah, yes. Thank you very much.”
But he simply acknowledged her and took his seat. Everything was a matter of heart and intention, after all.
So Beom-jun sat in the middle of the traditional floor-seated room. Above his head, the black-and-white tiger bared its fangs.
* * *
Kang Yo-han arrived at exactly eight o’clock, neither early nor late.
He must have walked there, yet it was a mystery how he’d timed it so precisely. Perhaps he’d waited outside the restaurant.
“Good evening, Director. You arrived first, I see.”
His hair was neatly combed and slicked back, and he wore a tailored vest over his dress shirt. Beom-jun’s eyes caught on Yo-han’s tight necktie. It looked suffocating.
Come to think of it, he’d been dressed similarly at the hospital directors’ meeting. Wasn’t it restrictive?
[A person with hostile intent is nearby.]
The Status Window warned him to be cautious as Kang Yo-han appeared.
“As you know, we’re near the hospital. Director Kang seems quite punctual.”
“Yes, I’m rather particular about keeping time.”
Kang Yo-han sat at the table and immediately adjusted the slightly askew spoon. He also rotated the side dish and sauce bowl until the patterns faced forward.
He focused all his attention on organizing his surroundings in his own way, unable to concentrate on his first face-to-face meeting with Beom-jun.
In the meantime, Beom-jun observed him. Kang Yo-han was a figure who barely appeared in Doctor X. Since he wasn’t a subordinate, the Status Window provided limited information about him.
This was different from how Beom-jun had observed people from multiple angles using Doctor X and the Status Window.
He had no choice but to focus solely on Kang Yo-han before him.
‘His background is similar to mine. He’d make perfect prey for Han Myeong-jae.’
Beom-jun was unusually young for a hospital director, and Kang Yo-han also appeared quite young. At most in his early forties. And he’d apparently become director of Saint Hospital only three years ago.
Beom-jun paid close attention to that fact. Kang Yo-han might well be someone Han Myeong-jae had placed from the start.
Raising inexperienced people and putting them in the spotlight was one of Han Myeong-jae’s methods.
Kim Do-yoon was a prime example of someone Han Myeong-jae had recently tried to manipulate. Beom-jun himself was much the same.
Kim Do-yoon had trusted Han Myeong-jae to the very end and brought about his own destruction, but Kang Yo-han still had a chance.
He could free himself from Han Myeong-jae if he chose to. He had the strength for it.
“I hear this is one of your favorite places. You seem quite comfortable here—it’s like being at Director Choi’s own home.”
Kang Yo-han spoke to Beom-jun. Now the handmade utensils and dishes on the table seemed to please him. He casually surveyed the restaurant’s interior. His gaze lingered for a moment above Beom-jun’s head, then moved away.
“I’m glad you came all this way. Honestly, I didn’t expect we’d meet like this, but I hope we can form a good relationship.”
Beom-jun picked up a full shot glass and held it out toward Kang Yo-han, speaking words that weighed the future of their relationship.
“I hope so as well.”
Kang Yo-han didn’t give a definitive answer to Beom-jun’s words.
Clink—
The glasses collided so forcefully the liquor nearly spilled over. Neither Beom-jun nor Kang Yo-han gave an inch.
Had they shaken hands instead, they would have gripped fiercely.
An invisible current flowed between them. As they watched each other warily, tension mounted.
Both sought to discover the other’s weaknesses while ensuring they showed none themselves.
A second toast, accompanied by silence.
Clink—
Beom-jun drank the soju.
‘It tastes good.’
For some reason, the soju tasted sweet tonight. Perhaps the tiger’s blessing was real, after all. Unlike Kang Yo-han, who grew increasingly anxious in the silence, Beom-jun maintained his composure.
“Weren’t you interested in the Uigwonhoe? You must have many questions.”
Eventually Kang Yo-han broke the silence, trying to assert that he was in the position to inform, to place himself above Beom-jun.
“Feel free to ask comfortably. I’ll explain everything.”
Kindness masquerading as arrogance.
Beom-jun smiled coldly as he looked at him.
“You said I could join immediately. So there are different types of membership—General Members and something else?”
Beom-jun asked a question based on exactly what Kang Yo-han had said during their phone call.
“The top four hospitals’ executives are designated as Special Members. Their influence is simply different. We made a distinction from other physicians. So someone of your caliber could be registered immediately.”
During the call, Kang Yo-han had implied he’d register Beom-jun as a member without hesitation, but now his words had subtly shifted.
“Could” register him—he was asking for Beom-jun’s permission.
Beom-jun was taken aback.
‘You claim to protect physicians’ rights, but you don’t even grant equal rights among physicians? It’s ridiculous.’
The Uigwonhoe was a mass of contradictions the more you examined it.
It claimed to serve local healthcare, yet it was structured to embezzle Korea University Hospital’s budget. It advocated for physicians’ rights while discriminating among those same physicians.
And all of it was packaged in the plausible guise of protecting physicians’ rights. As long as that was served, nothing else mattered.
If you charged forward like a racehorse looking only ahead, you’d miss these contradictions. You wouldn’t even notice as the mass of contradictions grew into a chasm.
Beom-jun poured soju into his empty glass. Kang Yo-han took the bottle and filled his glass identically, matching Beom-jun’s pace precisely.
Clink—
Another toast. The second bottle of soju was already nearly empty, and they hadn’t even been served the main course yet.
At Beom-jun’s lukewarm response, Kang Yo-han changed his approach once more.
“Special Members do have benefits. As an executive of the Uigwonhoe—”
“No. I’d like to hold off on joining for now. My thinking has changed.”
His expression hardened immediately at Beom-jun’s words, and he turned serious.
“What do you mean your thinking has changed?”
[A person with hostile intent is nearby.]
[A person with hostile intent is nearby.]
[A person with hostile intent is nearby.]
As Kang Yo-han’s hostility escalated, the Status Window turned red.
But Beom-jun remained unmoved by Kang Yo-han’s shifting attitude.
‘Kang Yo-han needs to leave the Uigwonhoe of his own volition. Only then can I sign a Talent contract with him.’
Min Jeong-sik could be registered as a Talent at the point of joining rather than after formally joining. In other words, he just needed to not be a member of the Uigwonhoe at the moment of registration.
That meant Kang Yo-han would have to withdraw from the Uigwonhoe.
“I’ve come to learn some things recently.”
Beom-jun inferred information from the Status Window about what might appear if Kang Yo-han registered as a Talent.
‘An absolutist with horrifying principles,’ perhaps. Or expressions like ‘strong convictions,’ ‘upright,’ or maybe ‘pathologically obsessed with organization.’
The more he thought about it, the more plausible it seemed. Beom-jun smiled faintly and pulled something from his pocket.
As Beom-jun’s hand moved toward the table, Kang Yo-han’s eyes followed.
With his intoxication rising slightly, Beom-jun clenched and unclenched his fist. A small USB Drive fell onto the table.
“Did you know, Director Kang? That Korea University Hospital’s budget flows into the Uigwonhoe? We’re talking about tens of billions of won.”
Kang Yo-han’s expression turned grave at Beom-jun’s words.
He grasped the situation quickly. He understood that Beom-jun wasn’t declining Uigwonhoe membership for personal reasons.
If he learned of what Han Myeong-jae had done, it would scratch his upright convictions.
Caught off guard by this revelation, Kang Yo-han’s spirit wilted. The eyes that had been glaring at Beom-jun with hostility also softened somewhat.
“Tell me… Tell me in detail.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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