Gangwon-do, Samcheok-si, Geumsan-myeon, Geumsan-ri.
A township office tucked deep within layer upon layer of winding mountains.
The place where Kang Tae-ho stopped was a three-story building with a sign reading “Geumsan Clinic.” Seeing it in person, it looked far older than he had expected.
*In the end, I’ve returned to this quagmire.*
Tae-ho smiled bitterly inwardly.
When he left this neighborhood seventeen years ago, he had sworn never to return. Yet sudden misfortune had pushed Tae-ho back into this shabby rural clinic.
“Hey, Dr. Kang! Don’t just stand there, come in.”
An old man with white hair appeared at the building’s window.
Director Jeong Ho-cheol.
He was the director of Geumsan Clinic and the owner of the building. Director Jeong gestured for Tae-ho to come inside.
It was lunchtime, so the clinic was quiet.
Tae-ho passed through without lingering, yet he missed nothing that needed his attention.
*These machines are at least seven or eight years old. The X-ray is practically an artifact…*
A few elderly people sat in the waiting room chairs. They had been watching television to pass the time until lunch ended, but when Tae-ho entered, they all turned to look at him.
One old man whispered to another. When Tae-ho met their gazes, they quickly averted their eyes, so it was clear they were talking about him.
Controlling his expression, Tae-ho moved toward the examination room.
He could more or less guess why the old men looked at him so strangely, why they regarded him with suspicious eyes. Compared to Director Jeong Ho-cheol, who had put down roots in this village for over forty years, a young doctor like Tae-ho from Seoul must seem untrustworthy.
When Tae-ho entered the examination room, Director Jeong smiled broadly.
“You’ve had a long trip. Sit down. Have you eaten?”
“Yes, I had something simple.”
“Heh, they say Seoul folks are so busy they even rush through lunch. Don’t think you can get by on youth alone—make sure to eat your meals on time.”
After a good-natured, hearty laugh, Director Jeong picked up the documents on the table.
“This is, well, basically a handover agreement. Nothing too complicated. I’m leaving behind all the machines in the physical therapy room, the X-ray, the ultrasound equipment—everything. Put them to good use.”
Tae-ho glanced over the contract. However, the item for equipment transfer costs was set quite a bit higher than he expected.
“Director, as far as I know, the machines here are quite old. The X-ray looks to be nearly twenty years old. Isn’t the price too high?”
Without a hint of fluster, Director Jeong stroked his chin and smiled.
“Well, by city standards, many of them are outdated. But they work perfectly fine without a single glitch. Think about how much it would cost to buy all new ones. There’s no way you could afford it right now. For a rural clinic, this level of equipment is more than sufficient.”
“Then what type of X-ray is it? Is it DR or CR?”
“Oh, DR would be nice, wouldn’t it? We still have CR equipment here. It’s closer to a film processor, but I had it modified so you can convert the images to digital to some degree and print them. The ultrasound machine can’t do B-mode color Doppler, but there’s no problem examining the liver, gallbladder, or doing simple abdominal diagnoses. The ECG machine is a ten-year-old model, but it runs without breaking down.”
Tae-ho bit his lip.
*Weren’t these machines basically garbage?* Director Jeong was smiling with a kind expression while trying to rip off a greenhorn junior.
The problem was that Tae-ho had no other options.
Director Jeong raised his eyebrows slightly. He didn’t like at all that Tae-ho wasn’t signing the contract cleanly and was instead dawdling.
“There’s nothing to think over. Are you trying to haggle again? I already lowered the price so much before you even came here. I can’t go any lower.”
“Honestly, the equipment is too old. Wouldn’t it be unsurprising if it broke down right after I start treating patients tomorrow? The amount you’ve written down is too high. Please reconsider.”
Tae-ho replied with an awkward smile.
Geumsan Clinic had been listed for sale on MedCircle, the largest community for doctors. If this place weren’t so remote, the price would clearly be impossible. Tae-ho wanted to wrap things up as amicably as possible.
Director Jeong subtly raised one corner of his mouth.
“Well, if you don’t like it, you don’t have to buy it. Just buy new machines instead. But that’ll cost at least tens of millions of won, won’t it? Even if they’re old, this is practically a giveaway. I worked here for over forty years, sent all my kids to study abroad, and saved for retirement. To do that, you have to be thrifty in places like this. Once you settle in, you’ll thank me.”
“Understood. Still, if possible, could you adjust it just a little… My financial situation isn’t good.”
Director Jeong twisted his face into a severe frown and shook his head.
“Hmph, asking for more of a discount? Tsk, a person should have some shame. Fine then. I suppose I’ll look for another doctor. Even if it’s the countryside, this is the only hospital around. There are plenty of people who want to come here.”
Director Jeong deliberately played with his phone, feigning indifference. As if he had not a single regret.
Tae-ho tasted bitterness in his mouth. He was worried about taking over with such old machines.
Just then, a cheerful trot ringtone sounded. It was Director Jeong’s phone. It seemed he had accidentally pressed a button, because a young boy’s voice suddenly rang out.
“Grandpa! When are you coming? Tomorrow? The day after tomorrow?”
“Huh? Oliver? No, later, later. Grandpa will call you back.”
Director Jeong hurriedly hung up, glancing at Tae-ho.
Tae-ho looked again at the photo on Director Jeong’s desk. It showed a young man, his wife, and a young child laughing happily on a foreign street. The young man looked quite similar to Director Jeong, so they were likely his son’s family.
*His family is waiting abroad. That’s why he’s in such a hurry to hand over the clinic.*
Tae-ho decided to push boldly. His own situation was desperate, but knowing Director Jeong’s weakness made it possible.
“Then let’s do that. It seems like too demanding a condition for me after all. You’d best look for another doctor.”
When Tae-ho suddenly tried to stand up, Director Jeong panicked.
It had already been over a year since he posted the listing. In all that time, Tae-ho was the only doctor who had come to this backwater countryside. If Tae-ho walked out now, the clinic takeover would be left in limbo. He was already burning with longing to see his son and grandson in Canada.
“No, what do you mean coming all this way only to say that all of a sudden?”
“As I said, my financial situation is very poor. It’s a shame.”
As Tae-ho bowed to leave, the flustered Director Jeong grabbed his hand tightly.
“Now, Dr. Kang. Don’t worry. Don’t worry at all. Pay slowly. In-installments. That’s right. Shall we do installments?”
“Installments?”
“Yes, pay a set amount each month in installments. I’ve met a fine talent like you, and I don’t want to waste any more time. Just sign the contract first.”
The haughty demeanor from before had vanished; Director Jeong smiled broadly, almost obsequiously.
“After all, you came all this way because you’re interested, right? Just sign and start right away. It’s a rural clinic, but if you do well, you can easily earn over thirty million won a month. It’s the only hospital in the area, so there are plenty of patients, and labor and rent are much cheaper than in Seoul. And that’s not all. When work ends, just go straight up to the third floor—that’s your home right there. That work-life balance young people like these days. Yes, there’s work-life balance here. Breathe the fresh air on the rooftop, gaze at stars you could never see in Seoul, grill some pork belly, and have a glass of soju. Hah! You won’t even envy the immortals.”
“It is deep in the mountains, enough for immortals to live here.”
“Still…”
“I’m sorry, but I think it’ll be difficult. Those machines aren’t worth installments—I should actually be paying you scrap disposal fees to get rid of them.”
“But they still work fine…”
“The shell might look fine, but the insides are a complete mess. And how could proper results come from machines like those? I don’t see how it can work.”
“Then what do you want?”
“Give me the machines for free. Even if they break in a few days, I won’t charge you disposal fees. And let me pay the transfer cost in installments.”
Director Jeong clenched his molars. He was seething inside, but getting rid of this place even a day sooner was more important. His heart had already boarded a plane to Canada.
“…Very well.”
In the end, Tae-ho received the machines free of charge, revised the contract to the condition that the transfer cost be paid in installments, and signed his name on the signature line.
With this, Tae-ho officially became the director of Geumsan Clinic.
“You’ve worked hard all these years, Director Jeong.”
“I leave this village in your care from now on.”
Director Jeong’s expression wasn’t as pleasant as at the start, but he looked relieved to finally be done with the handover.
Just as Tae-ho finished the contract and was leaving the hospital,
his phone vibrated.
The caller was Seongun Capital.
“Mr. Kang Tae-ho, we’ll come find you within a month, so have the principal and interest ready. If you’re going to make pointless talk like last time, wash those hands of yours clean and wait.”
A brutal threat.
*Ha…*
Tae-ho clenched his teeth. There was no other way. He had to settle in here quickly and earn money. Surviving right now was the most urgent thing.
*If what Director Jeong said is true, I should be able to raise some amount within a month.*
***
But the next day, on his first day of work, Tae-ho sat blankly in the empty examination room all morning.
Director Jeong had said at least forty or more patients came each day, yet not a single patient had come all morning.
*Did I get scammed?*
But before coming here, he had clearly confirmed that Geumsan Clinic was the only hospital in the vicinity.
*But how could there be no patients?*
Just then, there was a knock at the door.
He straightened his posture, and Nurse Park Geum-ja peeked in through the door.
“Director, a delivery.”
“A delivery?”
“Yes, a delivery just arrived, and it seems to be addressed to you.”
Tae-ho received the box with a puzzled expression. Looking at the delivery slip on the box, the sender was listed as RemmaTech.
*RemmaTech?*
He remembered. Sometime last year, there had been an event to use the latest medical AI for free, and he had applied. He had filled out the questionnaire sincerely, but had forgotten about it when there was no response.
Tae-ho opened the box. Inside was a card and an ornate metal box. He opened the card first.
Remaa Next-Gen Medical AI Pilot User Selection Notice
Hello, Kang Tae-ho.
We at Remaa Tech are pleased to inform you that you have been selected as the optimal candidate for the pilot use of the ‘next-generation medical AI, Rema.’
The name “Remaa” was engraved on the side of the metal box. He took it out; it was a device in the form of smart glasses. On the outside, it just looked like a pair of sleek glasses.
He put on the glasses and pressed the power button. A faint light flickered in the lenses, and holographic letters rose into view. The text could only be seen when wearing the augmented reality glasses.
Remaa v.1.0
User Authentication: Kang Tae-ho.
Welcome! Remaa is a state-of-the-art medical assistance AI system.
“Remaa?”
The moment Tae-ho spoke, as if it understood him, a bright voice sounded. The sound seemed to be transmitted as vibrations through the frames, like a bone-conduction earpiece.
—“Welcome, Kang Tae-ho. I am Remaa. I will assist you to the fullest in whatever area you need—examinations, diagnoses, prescriptions. Please state your objective.”
—“So that the path of medicine you have chosen may become a great one that transcends mere healing to save lives and change the world, Remaa will dedicate itself to walking alongside you. Before long, you will become a true Great Physician that this era will remember.”
“A Great Physician?”
—“Yes. Remaa promises to make Kang Tae-ho the world’s greatest Great Physician.”
A confident voice. And background music with a subtly solemn, stirring feel.
Tae-ho let out a scoff without thinking.
A Great Physician? Hadn’t the decision to save a patient’s life ultimately come back as two billion won in debt?
He was sick and tired of debt and threats.
“I don’t need to be any Great Physician… I just want to earn a lot of money.”
At that moment, a small beep sounded. Then, as if flustered, an urgent voice was heard.
—“Objective setting error… Resetting protocol initiated… The objective is…”