Surviving as a Rogue Hospital Director - Chapter 5

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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 5.
The terrible headache vanished like a lie the moment all the information about Thoracic Surgery flooded into his mind.
“You only just got discharged. Don’t overexert yourself—why not rest? If walking is difficult, I can bring you a wheelchair.”
Unaware of what had happened, Im Sung-hyuk checked to see if Beom-jun was all right.
“I’m fine. You don’t need to go that far.”
Already, every eye in the hospital was on him now that he was Director—he didn’t need any more attention than that. Still, it was oddly touching.
That Im Sung-hyuk, always distant, even cold, was showing concern. It seemed unusual, probably because his position had shifted from director to patient. Either way, it was a stroke of luck.
Above all, choosing Im Sung-hyuk as his talent had been a stroke of extraordinary fortune. If he’d picked someone mediocre, he’d never have acquired this level of specialist knowledge.
“So, has Hee-sung’s departure date been set?”
Beom-jun asked, his face noticeably brighter than before.
“Not yet, no.”
Sung-hyuk’s gaze shifted away—clearly Hee-sung’s resignation was still weighing on him.
“You can’t hold back someone who wants to leave. Good people will come.”
“Where do you find them? You know the state of Thoracic Surgery, sir.”
Perhaps they’d grown closer. Im Sung-hyuk even spoke like this now.
Thoracic Surgery was, in truth, an unpopular field. Every patient was critical—they hovered at death’s door multiple times a day—and the pay wasn’t even better because of it.
More than that, no matter how long you worked at a university hospital in Thoracic Surgery, you couldn’t establish a private practice. You could only open a small neighborhood clinic to start your own business, and Thoracic Surgery didn’t allow even that.
So while Residents came and went, almost no doctor wanted to become a Fellow. When openings were posted, no one applied.
‘Hmm, what to do.’
Beom-jun wiped his mouth with his hand. Normally, a decent Fellow would only arrive midway through—some overseas-trained physician drawn to Korea University Hospital by Sung-hyuk’s reputation.
But until then, Sung-hyuk would have to manage the patients alone.
‘If I create an environment where he can focus on treatment, he won’t question the hospital’s systems. Then he won’t take an interest in the director’s position either.’
Because the destabilization of Thoracic Surgery is where all these incidents begin. Conversely, if Thoracic Surgery stands firm, there’d be no need to replace the director of Korea University Hospital.
A meaningful smile crossed Beom-jun’s face.
“Let me handle this. I’ll find someone for you.”
He’s become my man now. I should attach a capable one to his side.
* * *
“Beginning surgery.”
In the green room, Im Sung-hyuk in green surgical attire spoke the words.
Hee-sung had prepared everything for the operation. All of it was set—anesthesia, the surgical site, the heart-lung machine.
When operating on a beating heart, you connect a machine to replace the heart’s function—to stop it. You also have to lower the patient’s body temperature from 28 to 32 degrees to reduce metabolic rate.
“How’s the Cardiopulmonary Bypass status? What’s the body temperature?”
“No abnormalities, sir. Body Temperature is 32 degrees.”
At Sung-hyuk’s words, Hee-sung answered immediately. Sung-hyuk nodded. Given Lee Seo’s age, setting it to the maximum temperature had been the right call.
It was a genuine shame that someone this competent was leaving.
As Hee-sung split the skin with a Scalpel and exposed the ribs, a heart as small as Lee Seo’s frame beat in quick, steady throbs.
“We’ll proceed as quickly as possible. Hee-sung, keep up with me.”
“Yes, sir.”
The machine was beating in place of the heart, but as time passed, the burden on the patient increased. Sung-hyuk’s hands reached toward the heart swiftly.
First, the right ventricle. He exposed the outflow tract connecting the pulmonary artery and right ventricle. To fix the problem, you had to open it up first to see it properly.
“Hmm.”
Sung-hyuk then identified the pulmonary artery stenosis site and made an incision.
Blood that should flow from the right ventricle to the pulmonary artery was backing up—that was the fundamental cause of Tetralogy of Fallot. Today’s surgery aimed to eliminate that root cause.
Concentrated, Sung-hyuk’s eyes didn’t even blink as he saw through the heart. He held his breath to keep his hands from trembling. The patient’s heart was stopped anyway—this was nothing compared to that.
Lee Seo’s pulmonary artery, narrowed further by complication, was incredibly delicate. It looked like it would tear if he so much as touched it.
“Professor, should we replace the valve too?”
“No, this degree is manageable.”
Sung-hyuk answered Hee-sung’s question.
If it had been fibrosed, he’d prepared to insert an Artificial Valve, but fortunately the condition was acceptable.
Sung-hyuk expanded the outflow tract created between the pulmonary artery and right ventricle, opening the pathway so that blood pumped from the heart would flow properly to the lungs. Then that blood would return through the heart and spread throughout the body.
Sung-hyuk attached a Patch to the site and finished, ensuring the pathway wouldn’t narrow again.
“Phew.”
As the surgery entered its final stages, Hee-sung, who’d been holding his breath along with him, finally exhaled.
Sung-hyuk lifted his head to check the clock. Five hours had already passed. Time always seemed to disappear once he entered the Operating Room.
Sung-hyuk blinked at the green ceiling. They said green was complementary to blood and eased eye fatigue, but for long surgeries, the effect wasn’t much.
“Finish up, and contact me if there’s any problem.”
Sung-hyuk handed things over to Hee-sung and left the Operating Room. He was the type to see a patient through from beginning to end, but Hee-sung was trustworthy enough. Sung-hyuk felt there was no one who could replace Hee-sung in that role.
‘Still, I can’t stop someone who wants to go.’
As Sung-hyuk washed his hands, he let his emotions wash away with the water.
At least he’d been able to operate on Lee Seo before Hee-sung left. Sung-hyuk removed his surgical gown with a face as relieved as pulling out a bad tooth.
* * *
Beom-jun was poring over Korea University Hospital’s personnel roster, wondering which colleague would suit Im Sung-hyuk best.
He was in the middle of flipping through documents when he heard a knock.
— Knock, knock, knock.
The ones who came to the Director’s Office were none other than Lee Seo’s parents.
‘Ah, today was the surgery.’
By the time, Lee Seo’s heart surgery should have ended.
“Hello, Director. I’m sorry to intrude so suddenly. I hope we’re not catching you at a bad time.”
Seeing Lee Seo’s parents, Beom-jun feigned ignorance.
“Not at all. Please, come in. How is Lee Seo? The surgery went well, I trust?”
There was no need to ask. Clearly Im Sung-hyuk had pulled off the operation without issue.
“Just as you said, Director.”
“We can finally breathe easy.”
The couple clapped their hands, delighted. They did everything the same.
“We were actually going to refuse the surgery. It’s all thanks to you, Director. We’re truly grateful.”
In , it was the kind of story where they’d agonize but eventually decide to go through with it, and Lee Seo’s mother, who hadn’t seen how that story ended, spoke now.
“No, no. Professor Im did the work.”
Beom-jun felt strangely embarrassed. It was awkward to receive thanks when he hadn’t done the surgery himself.
“Without you, Director, Lee Seo wouldn’t have had the surgery.”
But Lee Seo’s father spoke up as well.
‘How did it come to this.’
“You know how strong Professor Im is, right? We were really considering moving to a different hospital.”
Lee Seo’s mother opened up about her worries all this time.
A different hospital, presumably—
‘It would’ve been Cheon Hee University Hospital.’
Pediatrics was fundamentally unprofitable. That’s why, unlike adult medicine which was divided into over ten specialties, pediatrics was lumped together as one.
In , only Korea University Hospital and Cheon Hee University Hospital operated Pediatrics as divided subspecialties like adult departments.
Korea University Hospital at least received government funding since it was national, but he couldn’t fathom how Cheon Hee University Hospital managed it.
Unlike Korea University Hospital, which had the prestige of being ranked first in the nation, Cheon Hee University Hospital was depicted as a hospital with abundant capital. In short, a place with plenty of money.
Beom-jun’s thoughts halted at Lee Seo’s mother’s words.
“I can’t tell you how relieved we are that the surgery went well. Thank you so much, Director.”
She wiped away tears mid-sentence, and Beom-jun handed her a tissue.
How could one ever truly understand the feelings of parents with a sick child. When Beom-jun was a professor, seeing such guardians was the hardest thing.
Watching mothers beat their chests, saying they’d given birth wrong. A Genetic Disease was simply like that. You couldn’t blame anything, and you kept gnawing away at yourself.
“Thank you so much, Director.”
Throughout this brief conversation, he heard the word “thank you” countless times, and Beom-jun felt embarrassed. It was a feeling he’d never experienced when he was directly treating patients.
“All the suffering you endured—it wasn’t in vain, I think.”
And unlike before the surgery, her eyes now held a glimmer of resolve. The determination to protect a child who had barely survived, no matter what.
“You should be discharged sometime this week. You’ve been through a lot. Go home safely.”
Beom-jun offered his parting words, but he already knew they’d be back. Not because of recurrence.
In the future, when Sung-hyuk faced persecution at Korea University Hospital, a petition campaign led by his patients would spring up, and this fragile woman before him would gather people and protect him.
To her, Sung-hyuk was a doctor who would have to care for her child for the rest of his life. A mother is never truly weak.
* * *
Beom-jun threw on his coat and left the Director’s Office.
Since the personnel roster didn’t give him the information he needed, he thought it would be easier to see the faces himself. Beom-jun wandered through the hospital.
Unfortunately, not every doctor was skilled. Especially if they were still in training.
‘I need to find someone to attach to Im Sung-hyuk soon. My survival odds will go up even a little.’
Beom-jun drifted among the doctors like he was drawing lots.
[Talent found.]
[Talent found.]
[Name: Kang Kyung-seo / Position: Internal Medicine Fellow]
Interview: ■■■□□
Examination: ■■□□□
Diagnosis: ■■□□□
Treatment: ■□□□□
Follow-up: ■■□□□
– Growth Potential: Negligible
– Favorability: 3
‘Hmm, this one’s a dud. You can’t eat just anything when you’re hungry.’
Then, passing through the hallway, someone approached from the opposite direction, phone to ear.
“Yes, this is Intern Choi Woo-jung.”
She was hurrying along with her phone wedged between her shoulder and ear. What she carried was a Portable Ultrasound. At a glance, she was taking it to use on an admitted patient.
[Talent found.]
[Name: Choi Woo-jung / Position: Intern]
Interview: ■■□□□
Examination: ■■■■□
Diagnosis: ■■■□□
Treatment: ■■■□□
Follow-up: ■■□□□
– Growth Potential: Substantial
– Favorability: 3
[The very definition of diligence. She carries out assigned duties with a sense of responsibility.]
Beom-jun examined her detailed information. It was decent stats. Overall three or above, and with growth potential, couldn’t she reliably improve to four?
“Oh! I’m so sorry. I’m on the third floor now. I’ll be there in five minutes.”
But she was an Intern. Even as a doctor, she was barely a first-year working professional—it would take a full year just to adjust to hospital life.
Beom-jun continued walking and reached the end of the hallway, where a door stood slightly ajar. It was near the ward, a space with no name—only a room number.
Such places were usually the Physician On-call Room. You couldn’t go far since you had to rush out the moment an emergency arose.
“Man, I’m so tired. I’m dying. Seriously.”
“Want some coffee?”
“I’ve already had over ten cups.”
Mumbling voices leaked from beyond the door, and when Beom-jun peeked in, two hollow-eyed doctors were sitting in chairs beside a two-tiered bunk bed.
[Talent found.]
This time too, the status window appeared for only one of them.
[Name: Lee Min-ho / Position: Resident, 3rd Year]
Interview: ■■■□□
Examination: ■■■■□
Diagnosis: ■■■■□
Treatment: ■■□□□
Follow-up: ■■■□□
– Growth Potential: Explosive
– Favorability: 3
[The type who acts without being told, strong desire for growth, susceptible to superiors with greater ability.]
Beom-jun’s eyes widened slightly as he reviewed the information.
This was the first time he’d seen “explosive” appear as a growth potential. And the base stats were already quite solid.
‘This one’s the real deal.’

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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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