Surviving as a Rogue Hospital Director - Chapter 77

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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 77.
“What I mean is, well, rather than surveillance, it’s more about being more careful and doing well, that sort of thing.”
Woo-jin stumbled over his words as if he’d made a slip, hurrying to correct himself.
He sensed something of Min-ho in Woo-jin—that strong desire for approval, the way Min-ho never left Sung-hyuk’s side.
The impulse to look good to others wasn’t always about gaining something in return.
“I’ll be more careful than when working alone, of course.”
Reassured by Beom-jun’s words, Woo-jin relaxed immediately. They called him dependent, but the truth was he absorbed influences from those around him easily.
Following his lead, Beom-jun changed into green surgical scrubs and entered the Surgical Suite.
Unlike most doctors, who rarely paid attention to surgeries outside their own specialty, Beom-jun, being an anesthesiologist, had his finger on the pulse of the entire operating schedule.
As he walked through the Surgical Suite, Beom-jun received a brief overview of what surgeries were being performed in which rooms and by whom.
“Rooms 8 and 9 are mostly used by General Surgery. Today we have a Left Hemi-colectomy scheduled in Colorectal Surgery.”
Midway through, Beom-jun’s pace slowed. It was a surgery he’d heard about countless times.
The procedure removed the cancerous section of the colon—he’d done it so often before his possession that he’d grown tired of it.
Typically, both sides were resected and the remaining colon was connected with a short anastomosis. If the cancer was close to the anus, a temporary colostomy was sometimes created by opening a hole in the front of the abdomen.
“Ah, were you thinking of observing for a moment?”
Beom-jun had drifted into nostalgia for only a moment when Woo-jin, catching the subtle shift, stopped in front of the Colorectal Surgery Operating Room.
Beom-jun, who made it his habit to look after talented people, was now the one being looked after by Woo-jin. It felt oddly awkward.
Honestly, he was curious. He rarely had the chance to watch another doctor perform the same surgery.
But Beom-jun turned down the offer.
“That’s alright. They’ll be concentrating, and I should make sure the environment is optimal for surgery.”
“You’re right. From the surgeon-in-charge’s perspective, it would be unsettling. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
Normally, advance notice was given before observing. The Operating Room was a space where the professor’s authority reigned absolutely.
If the Hospital Director burst in and rattled the surgeon-in-charge’s nerves, it could lead to a medical accident. The Operating Room was where such invasive procedures took place, after all.
‘If the Hospital Director walked in during my surgery? The very thought is horrifying. How could I focus on anything?’
Now that his personal curiosity wouldn’t be satisfied either way, it didn’t matter. The patient was still lost, and all he’d do was add more self-blame.
Beom-jun decided to carry his past self with him.
And then the Status Window appeared.
[Woo-jin’s Affection Level has increased by 1.]
Woo-jin was the type whose affection rose not from others doing things for him, but from recognizing others on his own terms.
‘Not bad.’
It seemed better to build up affection in advance and develop him into a valuable asset.
While his knowledge of anesthesiology had no immediate use, information about Eunsung Hospital would prove useful going forward.
“Director, I heard you specialized in Thoracic Surgery. That must be from your experience performing surgeries.”
Meanwhile, Woo-jin was studying Beom-jun’s words, which showed he understood the surgeon-in-charge’s circumstances.
Strictly speaking, it wasn’t Thoracic Surgery, but he knew well the sensation of operating. That heavy feeling of holding someone’s remaining life in your own hands.
“That’s all in the past now.”
“Room 16 should be empty about now. You’d be welcome to have a look around.”
Even as Beom-jun demurred, Woo-jin guided him into the Surgical Suite, and Beom-jun followed along, feigning reluctance.
The empty Operating Room had surgical instruments still laid out—an unorganized Scalpel Handle, Blade, and Surgical Suture left from what appeared to be a hastily finished procedure.
In medical novels, actors often say “Scalpel,” but technically a scalpel handle isn’t a blade at all.
The handle holds interchangeable blades depending on the task, so there are far more types of blades than handles.
There were absorbable sutures that dissolved naturally in the body and non-absorbable ones that didn’t, and they came in single-strand and braided varieties.
Beom-jun picked up a PDS Suture he’d used frequently. It absorbed slowly, but during that time it held firm and reliable.
‘I can’t believe how long it’s been since I’ve seen this. I used to carry it every day.’
As a Resident, he couldn’t count how many times he’d practiced tying knots. Day after day, he’d tied sutures to the hospital’s phone lines over and over. The nurses’ complaints that he should stop were still fresh in his memory.
“I think your experience actually seeing patients is what made you the director you are today.”
At Woo-jin’s words, Beom-jun found himself nodding unconsciously.
If he’d been as extraordinarily skilled as Im Sung-hyuk, things would be different. He might have thought a sense of duty was secondary.
Would he have bragged about being the Hospital Director after possessing Doctor X?
Decades of his life flashed through his mind in an instant. Woo-jin didn’t rush him, just waited in front.
‘I sensed he had something he wanted to say, but maybe not.’
Beom-jun turned the conversation toward him.
“You must have built up good experience at Eunsung Hospital too.”
“Good… Yes, well. It was a good experience. It was a great help in coming to Korean University Hospital.”
At the mention of Eunsung Hospital, Woo-jin’s mouth moved with difficulty, but he said it was good.
‘So something did happen there, it seems.’
There was no point in cursing the past and spitting in his own face. But Beom-jun guessed it must have been a harsh time.
After all, he’d become a doctor with his medical school fees sponsored, so it was inevitable—a contractual condition. There was no such thing as a free meal in this world. If you took money, you had to pay the price.
Beom-jun didn’t press further. He wouldn’t offer hasty consolation to someone who had endured difficult times.
“It’ll be different here from Eunsung. If you need anything, let me know.”
Instead, Beom-jun talked about what he could do right now—what he, specifically, could do for Woo-jin.
“That’s not necessary, Director. What am I to say…”
Woo-jin initially deflected the offer awkwardly, refusing it.
“Why wouldn’t it be? You’re part of this hospital. It’s my way of returning the favor for today’s Surgical Suite tour.”
But at Beom-jun’s words, Woo-jin’s eyes deepened. The Status Window he’d seen earlier came to mind again.
[Woo-jin’s Affection Level has increased by 1.]
* * *
—14 missed calls.
Inside the Professor’s Office.
Woo-jin checked his phone and irritably covered the screen.
On the desk lay the surgical scissors and writing instruments he carried in his coat pocket, scattered haphazardly along with his phone—he’d pulled everything out roughly.
—Kim Mu-hyung, Executive Director
What could this man possibly want now? He’d failed to create distance even after changing hospitals. The medical field was a small world. He might never escape the network of doctors, not even until death.
—Bzzzzzz, bzzzzzz.
The phone vibrated in the silence.
It was Kim Mu-hyung again, as expected. The fifteenth call. At this point, shouldn’t he just accept the call back?
Woo-jin, who rarely showed any cracks and didn’t let it show when he did, crumbled in the solitude of his office.
But he also knew there was no escaping this. He understood that making Kim Mu-hyung wait would gain him nothing.
“Yes, Executive Director.”
“Why aren’t you picking up?? Huh?! Did you move to Korean University Hospital to cut ties completely?”
“My rounds ran long. I just finished.”
Woo-jin caught himself mid-sentence. He should have said surgery. The excuse was weak.
“Come on, can’t you make one call during rounds? Just a ‘I’ll call you back later’—can’t you do that?”
And just as he’d foreseen, that small slip became ammunition for criticism.
“Think back to when you were a tadpole, Woo-jin. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten how you became a doctor. Surely not? If you forget that, you’re not even human.”
“Of course not. I was doing rounds on an important VIP patient, so I didn’t have time to check my phone. What did you need to call about?”
Woo-jin tried to change the subject, but Mu-hyung wasn’t having it.
“Important rounds? What’s so important? Ah, I hear these days your director does rounds with two professors. Did you get on that line?”
“No, sir. It’s not what you think.”
‘Get on a line? I want to destroy the line I already have.’
Woo-jin’s meeting with the director in the Surgical Suite had been pure chance. Though starting the conversation had been intentional.
For Woo-jin, Korean University Hospital wasn’t a place others had chosen for him—it was a place he’d chosen himself.
At first, his resolve was simply to go anywhere but Eunsung Hospital, but the outcome turned out better than expected.
He hadn’t wanted to end up somewhere worse than Eunsung, and he was glad he’d come to Korean University Hospital. It was the nation’s number-one hospital by consensus.
He wanted to solidify his position here. If he couldn’t take root properly at Korean University Hospital, he was afraid he’d start thinking about going back to Eunsung.
The rumors that the director was a hothead bothered him a little, but it didn’t matter much.
‘As long as he’s not acting like a hothead toward me, it’s fine. Mu-hyung only does it to me. Could it be worse than this?’
“Anyway, Korean University Hospital is going to send doctors on dispatch to Eunsung Hospital soon, right? I’ll put in a word about you, so come along. I called to tell you this.”
“A dispatch from Korean University Hospital to Eunsung?”
“Yeah, it’s a project I’m planning. Doctors from Korean University Hospital and Eunsung Hospital will be gathering, and it’d look good to have you in the middle of it, wouldn’t it? It’ll be a good opportunity for you too.”
The reason Woo-jin couldn’t completely push Mu-hyung away was moments like these. After all, crumbs were still falling.
If Woo-jin became the center of the project, as Mu-hyung said, it would be good for expanding his foothold at Korean University Hospital.
“I understand what you’re saying. Of course I should participate.”
Woo-jin wasn’t foolish enough to let emotion cost him an opportunity. He took what was worth taking, distanced himself from what needed distancing, and maintained the right distance from Eunsung Hospital.
“So how is Korean University Hospital? Is it a decent place to work?”
Only after Woo-jin gave his immediate assent did Mu-hyung ask after his well-being. It had been less than three months since he’d left Eunsung after ten years, so Woo-jin was still adapting.
“Actually, never mind. It’s probably the same there. Honestly, all hospitals are the same anyway.”
Mu-hyung dodged Woo-jin’s answer without waiting for it, even though Woo-jin hadn’t said Korean University Hospital was better.
“Korean University Hospital will be different from Eunsung.”
Woo-jin heard Mu-hyung’s words overlap with what the director had said earlier, but without much deliberation, he answered the way Mu-hyung wanted.
“So far, I haven’t noticed any major differences.”
Actually, his opinion wasn’t far off from the truth.
All the large hospitals in South Korea might ultimately be the same.
Surprisingly, many patients chose hospitals based on accessibility. The closest one, the most convenient one to visit frequently—that was the best.
What was supposedly different? The words Woo-jin couldn’t immediately grasp lingered in his ears.

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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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