I sat in an empty on-call room chair, staring blankly into space.
In my head, the unhinged comment left by 'HitByTruckGuy' kept floating around stubbornly.
'If you haven't been hit, keep your mouth shut.'
Fuck.
Yeah, I haven't been hit.
And I don't want to be hit, you crazy bastard.
I sighed as I looked at those ghosts who had no intention of coming to their senses even after death.
Hmm…
Let's think this through.
Until now, I've just been lurking on this database, barely absorbing whatever information flowed by.
Like when I posted about an FUO patient—if I was lucky someone answered, and if not, that was that.
I can't keep going like this.
This is way too inefficient.
If I want to properly tame these bastards and put them to work, I have to clearly lay my cards on the table.
'I'm alive.'
Just these words.
I have to imprint this fact clearly into the brains of those ghost bastards.
'Alright, let's do it.'
I sprang up from my seat.
The problem was how to verify it.
"Verification, huh."
The simplest way is a selfie.
Taking a picture of my face and uploading it.
I pondered for a moment, then shook my head.
Am I crazy?
Imagining myself in this gloomy on-call room making a V-sign with a dead expression made me so cringed out I felt like my hands and feet would curl up and vanish.
That didn't suit my personality. Above all, the thought of those ghost bastards holding a critique session after seeing my face gave me goosebumps.
'Looking at this bastard's face, he must've studied like hell, lol.'
Comments like that were bound to appear.
Then what was another way?
What about taking a screenshot of the EMR system?
Patient list and prescription records. There was no stronger proof of being a doctor than this.
'…No.'
Warning bells went off in my head.
'Violation of the Personal Information Protection Act.'
Patient names, ages, and diagnoses.
All of this was sensitive information. If I leaked this, not only would my medical license be revoked, but I'd end up with a criminal record too.
But wait.
"They're ghosts."
Right?
That's right. They're already dead.
Ghosts who can't be judged by the law or interfere with reality.
Would the Personal Information Protection Act really extend to the underworld? Did the underworld have a cyber investigation unit too, ready to send me a message saying, 'HellJoseonSlave1, you are requested to appear for unauthorized leak of personal information'?
It was absurd just imagining it, but you never know. I had to avoid high-risk gambles.
After much thought, I came up with the most perfect and safe method.
Patient monitor.
Heart rate, blood pressure, oxygen saturation.
The monitor where a living person's vital signs blinked in real time.
With absolutely no personal information, yet it was something that would prove more clearly than anything that this was a currently operating hospital.
Good, let's go with this.
I looked around and picked up a Post-it note and a pen. Then I pressed down hard and wrote six letters symbolizing my identity on it.
[HellJoseonSlave1]
Now the preparations were complete.
I quietly slipped out of the on-call room and headed to the ER station. Fortunately, everyone was busy, so no one paid attention to a first-year resident stuffed away in a corner.
I approached the patient monitor next to the empty bed in Area B.
Beep- beep- beep-
A perfect background.
I stuck the Post-it note on one corner of the monitor where it was clearly visible. Then I opened the gallery and pressed the capture button to record that scene.
Click.
I returned to the on-call room and threw myself onto the bed.
The title didn't need to be grandiose.
Short and intense.
Title: Verification. I'm the practicing doc you've been looking for.
I didn't write anything in the body. Only one photo. Below it, I added one short sentence.
'Taking questions.'
Now I'm the one with the power.
Eheheh.
One deep breath.
I pressed the register button.
And.
After one second of silence,
comment notifications exploded simultaneously.
[A new comment has been posted.]
[A new comment has been posted.]
[A new comment has been posted.]
[A new comment has been posted.]
[A new comment has been posted.]
The gallery exploded.
Anonymous (1.234): Holy shit, why is this real?
Anonymous (211.36): Hey, fuck, isn't this Photoshopped? The handwriting on the Post-it is fucking chicken scratch.
DescendantOfHippocrates: O living one, so you truly existed in the present world!
BoneOtaku88: Wow, fuck, so does that mean you can really show me my bone marrow slide? Hey! Answer me! I'm so fucking excited right now!
└ Anonymous (118.235): Nobody asked, you fucking pervert bastard.
PediatricsWraith77: Hey you bastard!!!! So it was real!!!!! Hurry up and run to the pediatric ER to check if kids are having an RSV outbreak these days!!!!!! It's urgent, fuck!!!!!!
AnesAndPainMed: What's the monitor model? Why's it so shiny;;
ScalpelGod: Fascinating. My friend, don't you have an emergency surgery case you're heading into right now? Laparoscopy or laparotomy, it doesn't matter. Share the surgical view with me.
HitByTruckGuy: Hey!!!!!!!!!! Does your hospital have a trauma center!!!!!!
I scrolled down, drunk on satisfaction. Ghosts from all sorts of departments were appealing their specialties and practically screaming their advances at me.
ScalpelGod: O living one. In your era, how is aortic dissection surgery performed?
PediatricsWraith77: Hey!!! Can't you hear me? Pediatrics!! I'm telling you to go to pediatrics!! What disease are kids dying from the most these days!! I have to take care of them!! And those little brats are fucking sensitive too!!
DescendantOfHippocrates: Amazing, this is precisely the proof of being alive!
I lowered the hand that had been on my forehead and opened the writing window again.
Title: Everyone calm down
Author: HellJoseonSlave1
From now on, I'll occasionally bring difficult cases.
If I throw you a few lines of patient info, you just spew everything you know like you're doing now.
It's a win-win for both of us, isn't it?
Post.
Then a reaction incomparably more intense than before burst out.
Anonymous (14.52): Deal!!!!!!!!
Anonymous (210.94): Of course, fuck!! Unconditionally!!
BoneOtaku88: Cases? What kind of cases? Osteomyelitis? Osteosarcoma? Spinal tuberculosis? I'll look at them all.
BackInMyDay: If it's an internal medicine case, this old man's experience should be of help.
ORWallClock: Fuck off, you internal medicine geezer, and bring surgical cases to me first. I'll read a laparoscopic view like nobody's business. Yep.
ScalpelGod: That proposal is reasonable. I accept it.
HitByTruckGuy: So does it have a trauma center or not, fuck!!!!!!!!
Ghost bastards from all sorts of departments started fighting, each claiming to be the expert.
Is this what idols or celebrities feel like?
This much is enough.
Now that I've obtained this powerful weapon, I just need to steadily collect LP and get my hands on the possession skill.
It was at that very moment.
"Hyeonjae!"
I flinched in surprise and raised my head.
"The patient in bed B-22 seems to have had a bit of a fever since earlier. Come take a look."
"Ah, yes! Understood!"
I sprang up from my seat.
Ding- ding-
The noisy patient monitor alarm. The shout of a drunkard coming from far away. The stinging smell of disinfectant.
This is my reality.
"Fuck, time to get back to work."
I muttered a curse under my breath and trudged toward bed B-22.
***
I Minjae, fourth-year chief resident of the Emergency Medicine department, stared blankly at the back of first-year Han Hyeonjae.
He had directly called a Rheumatology professor and diagnosed a rare disease called VEXAS syndrome, and a few hours later he even caught Ciguatera poisoning from tropical fish toxins.
This was the performance of a first-year who had barely been at it for a few months?
Records from the past few months flashed through his mind.
Han Hyeonjae.
He definitely wasn't this kind of character.
"…Hyeonjae, is it very hard?"
A patient brought to the ER with alcoholic cirrhosis.
Catching thin, inelastic veins is tricky. But this was a bit severe.
Hyeonjae had stabbed the patient's arm four times, sweating profusely, and the patient had a resigned expression.
In the end, unable to bear it, he opened his mouth toward the nurse.
"Ms. Jin, I'm sorry, but could you get the line instead?"
Hyeonjae couldn't even raise his head and only muttered apologies like an ant.
He was far from being an ace.
Just a clumsy first-year you could find anywhere.
"Hyeonjae, this patient's chief complaint is upper abdominal pain. What's the differential diagnosis here?"
"Acute gastritis is the most likely! We'll consider gastroscopy if needed!"
"Then what tests should we order?"
"Basic CBC, LFT, and inflammatory markers!"
His answers were at least spirited.
"Did you forget about acute pancreatitis? Don't we need a lipase lab?"
"......Ah!"
An exclamation burst out as if he'd only just remembered.
That kind of mistake was common in the early days of a first-year.
And that was it.
Not particularly outstanding, yet not so completely hopeless that he required a lot of hand-holding.
Yes, his nature was kind and diligent.
He was just that kind of guy.
Clumsy, sometimes pitiful, yet still somehow getting his work done—a first-year.
But today, Hyeonjae was a completely different person.
Like a veteran professor, he had reeled in two rare diseases in a row.
'What on earth? What happened in the meantime?'
There was always a reason when a person suddenly changed.
'Did he… study like crazy?'
Minjae stopped his thoughts there.