Surviving as a Rogue Hospital Director - Chapter 39

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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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Chapter 39.
It’s a public fact that the quality of medical care at the Military Hospital, the exclusive medical institution for soldiers, falls short of civilian standards. There are even urban legends that military doctors practice on soldiers as experimental subjects before building their skills and being discharged.
Unlike university hospitals that provide rigorous training, military doctors work alone without anyone to consult, creating a system where no one knows what they don’t know.
In an environment where independent judgment is inevitable, the rumor that “soldiers become test subjects” has some merit.
And so, enduring and enduring until the patient load becomes unbearable, the Military Hospital transfers patients to a contracted civilian hospital, but in this process the critical window for treatment is frequently missed. Serious aftereffects can linger, or the patient may die.
“That’s unnecessary. The Military Hospital may lack resources compared to civilian facilities, but I wouldn’t say the current standard is poor. Ahem, well… there’s no use making a bigger issue of this.”
With that final statement, the Commander seemed to be salvaging his true feelings from moments before, crossing his legs.
“I think there’s been a misunderstanding, sir. I’m saying we should contain this situation properly. The Rimmuseong patient—he didn’t arrive at the hospital within the Golden Time window.”
“Are you suggesting that we caused the delay?”
Stung by Beom Jun’s words, the Commander denied it outright. But the soldiers standing on either side of him swallowed hard, their Adam’s apples bobbing visibly.
Instead of answering the Commander directly, Beom Jun turned to So Jung, the attending professor, to ask for her assessment.
There was no benefit in breaking him down emotionally. Right now, he needed to keep the conversation constructive.
“Professor Shin, what was the patient’s condition like in the Emergency Room?”
“There was considerable hematoma around the wound, and the blood pressure was significantly low relative to the blood loss. We can conclude that the bleeding had been ongoing for an extended period.”
So Jung briefed him on her observations when she first saw the patient, but the military personnel just exchanged glances. They hadn’t understood much of what she said.
“That would mean a considerable amount of time had passed since the patient was injured.”
Once Beom Jun clarified, a few of them nodded as if they understood.
“The gunshot wound itself was probably not stopped by the patient’s own efforts either. Since Rimmuseong sustained a gunshot wound to the Deep Flexor Muscle
*
of the right forearm, it would have been impossible for him to apply pressure with his hand.”
* Deep Flexor Muscle: a type of muscle used in gripping strength
Unfortunately, the Commander, unable to fully understand the technical explanation, became suspicious and slammed his fist on the desk.
Bang!!!
“Can you take responsibility for what you just said?!”
But So Jung’s eyes only grew sharper at the loud noise. She was completely unfazed by the Commander’s intimidating display.
“Of course I can. I’ll stake my medical license on it. What are you willing to stake, sir?”
Watching her without so much as a blink, the Commander had nothing to say. Instead, he turned his gaze to the soldiers,
and quickly distanced himself as if he knew nothing of it.
“This… this is outrageous! What’s going on here?!”
“Well, you see, we discovered the patient quickly. But, it seems that…”
The soldier seemed accustomed to it, searching for excuses and deflating as he spoke. Beom Jun stepped in and answered for him.
“A North Korean soldier was found, so naturally he’d have been transported to the Military Hospital first. When it seemed treatment was beyond their capacity, he was brought here to Korea University Hospital.”
Whether or not it was Rimmuseong, this was precisely the kind of situation that had occurred repeatedly.
And Beom Jun calmly laid out his proposal. What he wanted was to integrate the Electronic Medical Records Systems between the Military Hospital and Korea University Hospital.
“Once Korea University Hospital becomes a contracted facility for the military, we’ll provide consulting support. We can review military patients through the Electronic Medical Records System—without the patients having to come to the hospital in person.”
This way, just as Beom Jun could view patient information from the director’s office, Korea University Hospital would be able to check on patients at the Military Hospital.
While they might not be able to respond immediately in emergencies, it would be a tremendous help in establishing treatment strategies.
Of course, building the system wouldn’t be simple. But once it’s done, it will help countless people—not just soldiers, but military doctors too.
And more than anything, if Korea University Hospital becomes a contracted facility? The Ministry of Defense budget comes in. Given that it’s Ministry of Defense funding, we’re talking hundreds of millions.
Meanwhile, seeing that Beom Jun showed no inclination to fight, the Commander’s desire to struggle faded away.
“If Korea University Hospital becomes a contracted military facility, in situations like this, we’ll be able to directly access Rimmuseong’s patient records.”
Beom Jun added one remark at a time, shaking the Commander. Even if he didn’t fully understand the details, he would intuitively grasp that this benefited him—no loss to it.
“Mm, well, this isn’t a decision I can make alone. Not that I’m saying no! We’ll review it internally and get back to you.”
Hearing the Commander’s words, Beom Jun broke into a grin. That was good enough. At least the report would go up the chain of command at the Ministry of Defense. Why would Korea University Hospital say they’d do it only to refuse?
Beom Jun was already thinking in his head about how to use the Ministry of Defense budget. Anticipating the hospital’s coffers swelling.
‘What should I do? First, maybe replace all the old medical equipment. Or I could expand the annex building.’
* * *
After the Commander left, Beom Jun received a summons from Chairman Han.
The old man had been impossible to meet despite every attempt, yet whenever the Chairman wanted him, Beom Jun could always be called. It felt bitter.
‘What’s this about? Did he already hear the contracted facility news?’
Beom Jun wondered why the Chairman had summoned him. No matter how he thought about it, there was only the contracted facility situation.
It wasn’t officially designated yet, but honestly, even by his own assessment, he’d done well. He entered the Chairman’s office riding high on this expectation.
But Beom Jun immediately sensed that the conversation would go differently than expected. Vice Director Gu Hui Jung was sitting right there next to Chairman Han Myung Jae.
“Ah, sit down there.”
With the Chairman in the middle, Beom Jun and Hui Jung sat on either side.
The sleek black leather sofa was clean only where Beom Jun sat—like new—while the spots where Chairman Han Myung Jae and Vice Director Gu Hui Jung sat were scuffed and creased with age.
How much time had the two of them spent in those seats? Soon, one of them would be conspiring to kill him, and the other would be covering it up. For Beom Jun, this was the worst combination imaginable.
“The Ministry of Defense was just here, I hear.”
The Chairman began to speak cautiously.
“And I heard you met separately with the director of the National Organ Donation Center last time. Why are you acting so recklessly? You should have consulted with the Vice Director.”
Ah, now he understood how things worked. Beom Jun smiled bitterly, laughing. He was being given unwanted advice when he’d barely done anything wrong.
“Chairman, you’re putting that oddly. Was I supposed to get permission from the Vice Director?”
While it was true that the Vice Director managed overall administrative duties, that didn’t mean the hospital director—Beom Jun himself—had to report to her. There was a clear chain of command.
“If the Vice Director had known in the process, shouldn’t I have asked whether she could help? I didn’t realize she was the kind to just gossip behind people’s backs?”
Seeing that Beom Jun didn’t bow meekly even before the Chairman, Hui Jung looked startled.
But from the moment the Chairman mentioned the Vice Director, Beom Jun was relentless. They’d set the trap and drawn him in.
‘Then I’ll smash that trap to pieces.’
He wouldn’t surrender easily.
As Beom Jun’s gaze turned toward Hui Jung, the Chairman’s voice rose.
“Hospital director! I’m talking about the hospital’s system. You should have presented this to the board! Do I really need to explain such basics?”
The Chairman sided with the Vice Director without reason, then changed his tone, bringing up the board of directors.
Beom Jun clenched his teeth. The board of directors appeared to support non-clinical matters that the director as a physician might not know well, but in reality it was one of the systems preventing a private hospital director from acting autocratically.
By the Chairman’s logic, Beom Jun had skipped that process, so to some extent he had a point.
But there was plenty of room to slip through. The Commander had only just said he’d report to his superiors.
“It’s not at a stage ready to be reported yet, sir.”
“Wasn’t Korea University Hospital designated as a military contracted facility?”
Surprisingly, the Chairman didn’t have a clear grasp of the situation.
“The government doesn’t move that quickly. The decision alone will take about a month.”
Beom Jun exaggerated. It would take a while—the military would probably submit detailed regulations favorable to themselves.
Beom Jun had spent twenty years as a professor. He knew from bitter experience how exhausting government-entangled research projects could be.
“There needs to be something concrete before sharing with the board. Right now, there’s a significant chance it could fall through. Even in the meeting just now, the Commander wasn’t favorable to it.”
“So you’re saying that’s not the right time to speak of it? Is that all?”
But despite having sufficient reasons, the Chairman repeated the same question.
Beom Jun understood what this meant.
Sometimes the content, the process, and even the conclusion that emerges don’t matter. In the end, it’s only about who bowed at the last moment.
‘If he says bend, you bend.’
Half a lifetime in medicine had taught Beom Jun to follow this precedent.
Beom Jun bowed to the Chairman.
“I will proceed with any further matters in consultation with the board.”
“Good.”
Having heard what he wanted, the Chairman relaxed.
‘I’d rather spend this time raising the survival odds by even 1%.’
Once he survived and expanded his influence at Korea University Hospital, he’d never have to go through things like this. He needed to escape the Chairman’s and Vice Director’s grasp as soon as possible.
Still, he’d learned information he didn’t know before—that was a gain.
Beom Jun took note of the fact that information about the Ministry of Defense hadn’t reached the Chairman accurately. He didn’t know what was said in the meeting, only what had filtered out externally.
‘The Vice Director’s hands don’t reach the National Organ Donation Center. The Vice Director seems to have no connection with Professor Shin So Jung.’
This meant that Professor Shin So Jung wasn’t aligned with the Vice Director. If she were, everything that happened in the meeting would have reached the Chairman’s ears.
‘I can roughly predict now.’
In the future, she would overcome discrimination and earn her colleagues’ respect, but the time hadn’t come yet. In the Vice Director’s eyes, she would be an outsider—not a Korea University graduate.
‘I need to register Professor Shin So Jung as talent.’
Her Favorability Rating was already at 7. It had gone up by one more during the meeting with the Commander. He’d only put it off because the meeting seemed more pressing, but Beom Jun remembered.
“Well then, I should be going. Is there anything else?”
“No, you can go.”
Beom Jun rose from his seat without hesitation.
But before he shut the door, through the gap he saw the Chairman and Vice Director, and his teeth clenched. If he said otherwise, it would be a lie.
Beom Jun ground his molars and checked So Jung’s location. Approximately six months remained until death. He had to start doing what he could.
[Checked So Jung’s location: VIP Ward, Private Room 1]
Beom Jun headed toward Rimmuseong’s hospital room.

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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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