When I came to my senses, I had been dragged to the emergency medicine residents' office.
In the office, I stood like a criminal.
“What the hell? Han Hyeonjae? Was the bumbling act I’ve seen all this time just an act?!”
Standing before me was the fourth-year chief resident, Dr. I Minjae.
…Fuck.
Why am I here doing this.
My mind grew hazy.
It was right after I had admitted the ciguatera patient and finished almost all the backlog of charting.
‘Dr. Han, the Chief was looking for you?’
At those words, my heart sank to the bottom.
I had firmly believed that the incident where I cursed out Senior Choe Sumin had finally reached the chief resident’s ears.
But the first words out of the Chief’s mouth completely missed the mark.
“Answer me!!! Han Hyeonjae!!! Why were you acting bumbling all this time!!! Huh?!”
The Chief grabbed my shoulders and pressed in on me.
His tone was completely unhinged.
“…I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? You’re sorry now? Beckwith-Wiedemann syndrome! And what? Ciguatera? A first-year, and an EM first-year at that, catching two rare cases in a row that even internal medicine couldn’t catch?! Does that make any sense?!”
It was absurd enough to be understandable.
For the past few months, the Chief had been busy covering up all the mistakes I had made.
When I was grabbed by the collar by a drunk patient, when I failed an IV line more than five times and the patient’s guardian filed a complaint, it was always a senior who went in my stead.
I Minjae’s wails continued.
“I believed in you, Hyeonjae…! I believed you were a good kid with a good heart, even if you caused some accidents! But how could you pull this hidden camera prank on me! My heart! My heart can’t take it!”
“But sir…”
The moment I tried to offer some excuse, fourth-year resident Yu Seonghun, who had been lying like a corpse on an old sofa in the corner of the office looking at his phone, opened his mouth without moving a muscle.
“Ah, Minjae. Stop it and sit down. You’re embarrassing yourself.”
“Shut up, Yu Seonghun! I’ve gone back to the pure passion I had when I aspired to the theater department, and I’m pressing Hyeonjae right now! My inner Method is awakening!”
The Chief shouted, but Dr. Yu Seonghoon just snorted.
“Bullshit. What theater department. Maybe if you were a comedian.”
“That bastard, really….”
The Chief snapped back at Dr. Yu Seonghun once, then turned his head back to me.
“Anyway, Hyeonjae. Tell me honestly. It’s one of two things.”
“Was Han Hyeonjae, who couldn’t even get a single IV line right and got chewed out for it, who wandered the halls with vacant, dilated pupils while acting bumbling, all an act? Or are you that kind of deformed type with disgustingly no hand skills but a head specialized for internal medicine?”
An act, or a deformity.
I couldn’t answer.
I couldn’t exactly say, ‘One day, I suddenly started seeing an internet community of dead doctors, and I cheated from there.’
But I couldn’t say it was all an act either.
Because just a few hours ago, I had truly been a first-year nobody floundering soullessly among the flood of patients.
What answer could I give to safely end this bizarre interrogation?
A method-actor doctor, or a half-baked genius?
Excluding the ugly truth of ‘I’m actually a cheating piece of shit,’ there were only two paths I could choose to survive.
First, a historic method-actor doctor.
A setting where I was actually a perfect, omnipotent munchkin capable of everything, but had been acting bumbling to preserve the hospital hierarchy and peace, and to show humility as a newcomer.
This was insane.
The moment I chose this setting, I would be crowned the ultimate sociopath of the residents’ office.
“Isn’t that the crazy bastard? The one who called himself a genius with his own mouth in front of the Chief?” Such talk would follow me everywhere.
Second, a half-baked genius with garbage hands.
A setting where my mind was extraordinary but my physical ability, that is, my technical skill, remained at a first-year level.
This was rather realistic. There definitely existed people in the world who were sharp in theory but disastrous in actual handiwork.
Of course, I might be mocked as having garbage hands for the rest of my life, and it was a fatal weakness as an emergency medicine doctor who had to perform direct procedures in emergency situations.
But at least I wouldn’t be treated like a crazy person.
Fuck, choosing the former would mean giving up on being human.
Yeah, since it’s come to this, let’s lock down the concept clearly.
“I actually studied incredibly hard!!!!”
I decided to survive as the pathetically hardworking, brainy nerd character.
At my shout, the Chief’s eyes narrowed.
“Hoo, is that so? Studied? And not just studied, but studied incredibly?”
His voice was mixed half with doubt and half with anticipation.
“Yes! That’s right!”
“Even rare diseases? Are you saying you memorized every textbook there is, including things like Beckwith-Wiedemann and ciguatera that you might see once in a lifetime?”
“Yes!!!!!!”
I was mechanically shouting affirmatives to the questions, almost like Pavlov’s dog.
“Really? That’s great then. From now on, all internal medicine cases coming into our hospital ER—Dr. Han can handle them all by himself. No need to attach seniors, staff, or fellows, right?”
…?
What? He wouldn’t attach a senior?
I couldn’t go to the fellows and staff who were harder to approach than seniors but always had killer answers?
Wait, could the Chief even do that as he pleased? No way? Could he?
“…Huh?”
For a moment, I doubted my ears. What did he just say?
“Did I hear wrong?”
“No, you said you studied incredibly hard. That you diagnosed things third-years don’t even know with ease. At that level, you should be able to see and diagnose most internal medicine conditions by yourself, shouldn’t you?”
Cold sweat poured down my spine like a waterfall.
This crazy bastard was testing me.
If I answered “Yes, that’s right!” here, from tomorrow I would really be saddled with all sorts of internal medicine patients.
Without the Gallery’s help, I might not even be able to distinguish between simple gastritis and pancreatitis, and could end up killing a patient.
Of course, that was a bit of an exaggeration, but anyway, there was no guarantee that the Gallery would always provide quick answers 24 hours a day.
I needed insurance too.
“Ah, no! Senior! Since I only saw these things in books, knowledge and actual clinical experience are completely different, aren’t they! What I need is the abundant experience and years of practice that you seniors have….”
As I desperately reeled off excuses, the Chief finally couldn’t hold back and burst out laughing.
“It’s a joke, a joke. Look at this bastard’s face turning white.”
The Chief tapped my shoulder.
“I know, I know. The trademark of guys like you. Your head is good but you lack real-world experience, so you’re a coward. Actually, I was like that too. When I was a first-year, seeing an LBBB (*Left Bundle Branch Block) on a new EKG (*electrocardiogram)…”
“That story again?”
Dr. Yu Seonghun, lying on the sofa, muttered as if fed up. The Chief jumped and shouted.
“No, it’s true that I became the star of the ER back then! Everyone thought it was a heart attack and was going to use thrombolytics, but I alone shouted LBBB and saved the patient!”
Senior Yu Seonghun just shook his head instead of answering.
Listening to the two of them, I thought inwardly.
This guy is really crazy too. Especially crazy about EKGs.
The Chief was a kind of EKG pervert who could diagnose all sorts of bizarre and nonspecific cases like a ghost.
The sight of a fake genius who cheated off the Gallery acting all high and mighty in front of a real genius.
Reality came crashing down on me.
After the commotion died down, Senior I Minjae looked at me again with a serious face.
“Anyway, Hyeonjae. You’re going to have a very hard time from now on.”
“Huh?”
“You know how fast rumors spread? Especially on a cramped hospital floor like ours. By now, ‘A diagnostic demon first-year has arrived in emergency medicine’ has already spread everywhere.”
The Chief mixed a cup of instant coffee and handed it to me, continuing.
“Soon, interns will come running to you asking, ‘Doctor, please look at this EKG,’ ‘Doctor, this patient’s lab results are strange, what could it be?’ Why? Because they’re scared shitless of getting torn apart like dogs if they ask a senior like me or Seonghun and we don’t know. But you’re different. They thought you were a bumbling first-year only slightly better than an intern, but suddenly you became a genius. You’re the best gateway to get correct answers without the risk of getting chewed out.”
“….”
“And it’s not just interns. Your peer Jihun, the other first-years too—it’ll be the same. Before notifying the professors, seniors, or fellows about a patient’s condition, they’ll come to you first. ‘Hyeonjae, I think this patient has such and such, what do you think?’ Because they want to double-check even once more. You’re becoming a kind of human UpToDate.”
I couldn’t say anything.
I had only gotten two diagnoses right, yet as payment, I was on the verge of becoming the unofficial consultant for all the junior residents of the emergency medicine department.
With an innocent expression, not knowing my inner turmoil, the Chief tapped my shoulder and grinned.
“Prepare yourself, our ER’s new star.”