Surviving as a Rogue Hospital Director - Chapter 16

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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 16.
Hee Jeong had been laid up in bed for days over her conflict with Beom Jun. Yet as time passed, her fury showed no sign of fading.
‘How dare he treat me that way? I’m the one who got him into that position in the first place! And he doesn’t even show gratitude!’
The director had been living well all these years because of her.
‘If he’d just stayed on my good side, I’d have extended his term once more. But he can’t even read people properly.’
He’d shown no interest in hospital operations before, but ever since his return, he was a completely different man.
Walking the wards alone, approving purchases for medical equipment without her consent—he was doing every strange thing imaginable.
But being dragged out of the director’s office by security? Her fists trembled at the thought.
She’d never suffered such humiliation. Over these past few days, the staff seemed to be quietly avoiding her.
“I should have dealt with this properly the first time. Let’s see if he gets away with it.”
Hee Jeong muttered to herself through gritted teeth.
She felt no guilt about having arranged Beom Jun’s car accident. Even if she were caught, it wouldn’t matter.
She’d thought the director would grovel even harder once he found out. But somehow, he’d dared to reveal it to her.
Hee Jeong went straight to find the chairman. And while he played Go as usual, she poured out her words like machine-gun fire.
“I mean, I thought he was insane? I’m just the vice director—I supposedly know nothing about it.”
“Mm, something like that happened?”
Han Myeong Jae, the chairman, showed a markedly different attitude than when he dealt with Beom Jun. Still, he was filtering her tattling through a sieve of skepticism.
He already knew about Hee Jeong’s habit of exaggeration. Despite that, he kept her as vice director because her management skills were truly exceptional.
Regardless, what she described was rather interesting.
‘His eyes changed, she said? Now that he’s come back from the brink of death, it seems he’s had a change of heart.’
As if his silence before had been a lie, Beom Jun had been drawing attention ever since waking from the intensive care unit.
The chairman recalled the image of Beom Jun he’d seen recently. He’d demanded the patents be released and urged him to promote Hankouk University Hospital.
It was certainly strange talk overall, but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense.
‘It will surely help in the long term. Perhaps you should give it some thought.’
The director, who usually trembled with anxiety whenever he saw the chairman, had spoken with such conviction back then.
‘If it benefits Hankouk University Hospital, then I have no objections.’
This quarter looked like it would end in deficit. The depreciation rate on the medical equipment they were using kept climbing.
Since they couldn’t bring in new machines every time, an alternative was needed at this very moment.
‘Promotion, they say? We could use it when requesting donations too. Ha, he’s got a clever mind.’
Because the hospital was a non-profit organization, it couldn’t receive investments. Instead, it received money in the form of donations and offered lifetime VIP benefits to the donors.
If there was something to show, requesting donations while saving face wasn’t bad at all.
The chairman touched his chin thoughtfully. Meanwhile, Hee Jeong’s complaints hadn’t ended.
“And then he just grabbed and twisted my wrist with brute force, right? Called security to chase me out! Look at this!”
She continued speaking tirelessly. But there were no bruises anywhere on the wrist she held out. Only faint blue veins were visible.
The story didn’t add up from the start. He overpowered her by force, yet he called security? If that were the case, he could have simply dismissed her himself.
Hee Jeong’s lips trembled as she spoke. It seemed she still hadn’t let go of her anger.
“He even found fault with the approvals! What does he know about their contents?”
The chairman had also noticed how the director had been dragged around by the vice director all this time. But it wasn’t unique to Beom Jun.
Whoever the director was, Hee Jeong was a demanding presence, and directors who couldn’t handle her left Hankouk University Hospital as soon as their terms ended.
It was truly a waste in the chairman’s eyes. Just when he’d begun to develop them, they’d all run away. But this time, Beom Jun had properly disciplined her.
‘…So that’s what happened.’
The chairman narrowed his eyes, picturing the situation. How Beom Jun must have dealt with the huffing and puffing Hee Jeong.
“There, there, the director just didn’t know any better.”
Yet as he said this, the chairman soothed the Hee Jeong before him. She was a person the hospital couldn’t do without. She couldn’t be easily replaced over something like this.
The current state of Hankouk University Hospital was built, it could be said, through the chairman’s words and the vice director’s hands.
“It was really absurd. Seriously.”
As the chairman comforted her, Hee Jeong gradually calmed down.
“Bear with it. As you say, he’s still a novice, isn’t he?”
“Right? That’s what I mean??”
At his disparaging remark about the hospital director, Hee Jeong brightened as if nothing had happened.
“I’ll keep a close eye on this director in particular.”
Han Myeong Jae said this to the downhearted Hee Jeong. But his words weren’t solely meant to comfort her.
‘I wonder why he kept quiet all this time. I should be cautious going forward.’
Han Myeong Jae fully intended to watch Beom Jun very carefully.
* * *
Late at night, with all the hospital lights extinguished, Han Myeong Jae participated in an online video conference. It was the Physicians’ Rights Association, operating in secret among doctors. A gathering for the rights of physicians.
Those with pixelated faces revealed nothing about themselves except their affiliated hospitals. Do not be curious about each other, only support one another. That was the first cardinal rule of the Physicians’ Rights Association.
These days, they were pushing a new drug from a pharmaceutical company sponsoring the Physicians’ Rights Association.
“You’ve all switched to the new drug I mentioned last time, I trust?”
The representative from Eunsung Hospital, who was leading today’s meeting, spoke.
Eunsung Hospital was a tertiary hospital founded by Eunsung Corporation, a major conglomerate, but it had only existed for ten years.
Despite massive investment, the lack of results was likely because it was short on skilled doctors. Building a magnificent hospital meant nothing if you couldn’t actually treat patients.
“If you face any difficulties, Eunsung will provide support.”
That’s why Eunsung Hospital was actively involved in the Physicians’ Rights Association. By appearing frequently and trying to recruit as many doctors as possible.
“We’re still persuading them. The effect doesn’t differ much from what was used before.”
“Hmm, our hospital is also still working on it. The existing pharmaceutical company seems to have caught a whiff of something.”
The new drug had been developed quite some time ago, but the reaction was lukewarm, not as expected.
The same active ingredient was already in circulation, but a new drug had been developed by merely changing the dosage. And the Physicians’ Rights Association was driving the old drug out of the market.
When a drug has been used long enough, its name becomes the brand itself. Like Tylenol, which contains acetaminophen. It’s that established, that trustworthy to patients.
“Hah, as if they can do anything about it now! They should have gotten it right from the start.”
“Exactly. I heard Bio Centric sponsored five hundred million won to the Physicians’ Rights Association this time.”
There was no other reason to switch drugs. It was simply to prevent the power imbalance between doctors and pharmaceutical companies from reversing.
“Ensuring the rights of physicians is the same as protecting the health of the nation, is it not?”
Put another way, the Physicians’ Rights Association’s claim meant that without guaranteeing doctors’ rights, there could be no national health.
“Hear, hear!”
Representatives from hospitals slow to adopt the new drug subtly shifted the topic.
Switching drugs would help the Physicians’ Rights Association, but in practice it was quite awkward. You’d have to retrain staff, ensure pharmacies had stock, and re-educate patients on dosage methods.
And if the Physicians’ Rights Association switched pharmaceutical companies again later, you’d have to repeat the whole process.
As the hospitals kept putting it off, Han Myeong Jae spoke up.
“At Hankouk University Hospital, there are no major obstacles. The switch to the new drug will be complete within days.”
He quietly brought the conversation back to the agenda, and the hesitant atmosphere shifted after his statement.
“As expected from Hankouk University Hospital.”
“…We’ll try to make more effort.”
“I think we’ll be converting soon. Perhaps in about a month.”
At his words, the conference participants watched for cues and praised Hankouk University Hospital. Some added remarks about their own efforts.
Han Myeong Jae himself remained unimpressed, calmly observing the changed atmosphere as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Only the representative from Eunsung Hospital broke a sweat managing the meeting. Then Han Myeong Jae drove a wedge that concluded the discussion.
“Incidentally, Hankouk University Hospital will jointly develop a treatment method for rare diseases with Bio Centric and grant first commercialization rights.”
Strictly speaking, it wasn’t joint development. It was using the patents Hankouk University Hospital already possessed.
In the end, Han Myeong Jae had decided to release the treatment method to the medical community, exactly as Beom Jun had proposed.
“An excellent idea. For rare diseases, bundle them separately and handle them as non-covered treatment if possible. Health insurance won’t even cover development costs. Or you could raise medical fees across the board.”
Chun Hee University Hospital, which had similar precedent, offered advice.
“Hmm, I think medical fee increases should be approached long-term. There’s a high chance the Physicians’ Rights Association would be exposed.”
“Right. Before that, wouldn’t it be safer to guide the government to announce insurance rate policy?”
But there were plenty of cautious voices too. The general sense was that it was too early. After gauging the mood, Han Myeong Jae encouraged another doctor.
“When is there ever a ‘proper time’? The time set by the Physicians’ Rights Association becomes the proper time.”
“I agree. There’s no point in just waiting around doing nothing. I think it might not be bad to begin making the Physicians’ Rights Association known to the outside world.”
Chun Hee University Hospital sided with him again this time.
When the two hospitals competing for the top position in the country said the same thing, those who’d been objecting fell silent.
“Very well. We’ll work out the details gradually, and let’s wrap up this meeting here.”
The representative from Eunsung Hospital appropriately concluded and ended the meeting.
As the participants logged out one by one from the grid of video conference windows, black screens appeared. Han Myeong Jae took his leave last, exchanging greetings with everyone in the Physicians’ Rights Association.
Though he was supposed to be anonymous, his voice was his business card. Few in the medical world failed to recognize him.
He turned off the monitor and looked out the window—darkness had already fallen. It seemed Hankouk University Hospital had completed its final round of patient visits and switched off the lights. Alone in his office, the chairman picked up his pen to leave a note.
– Medical Fee Increase
Hankouk University Hospital’s revenue declined year after year, and doctors quit to open their own practices, but Han Myeong Jae had no intention of leaving the hospital.
To him, Hankouk University Hospital was a place he’d devoted himself to for decades, from medical school to becoming chairman. Less a mere workplace, more an empire of his own making.
He was determined to preserve his empire by any means necessary, and for now, a medical fee increase was the only solution that could save the hospital.
‘If necessary, I’ll force it through.’
He circled the word “increase” twice.
The fountain pen in his hand bore the logo of the Physicians’ Rights Association and his initials engraved upon it. Around the barrel coiled a silver serpent, tail wrapping round.
It was modeled after the staff of Asclepius, the god of medicine from Greek mythology, which bears a serpent wound around it.
The serpent, which sheds its skin and is reborn, is a symbol of life—of medicine itself—but in the Physicians’ Rights Association, the serpent meant far more than life alone.

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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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