The ER Deputy Director's office was bathed in the warm glow of evening light filtering through the blinds. Dr. Lee Sang-wook sat behind his desk, his posture relaxed yet commanding as he reviewed a stack of patient files. Across from him, Yoon Mu-shin sat with the composed demeanor that had become his trademark in the hospital, though internally he felt the weight of evaluation upon him.
It had been a long day—one that capped a month of intense work. Today alone, Mu-shin had treated over fifty patients in the Minor Procedure Room with Nurse Yoo Jae-won at his side. She had already departed for home, her day shift complete, leaving Mu-shin to face this final assessment alone.
Dr. Lee looked up from the files, his experienced eyes studying Mu-shin with careful consideration. "Your results this past month have been exceptional," he said, his deep voice carrying the weight of authority earned through years of saving lives. "Far beyond what we typically expect from interns."
Mu-shin inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment, a sense of relief washing over him. The opportunity Dr. Lee had given him—treating patients independently in the Minor Procedure Room—had been both a privilege and a test. Failing would have meant returning to the traditional intern rotation, shadowing residents and performing only the most basic tasks under close supervision.
"Thank you, sir," he replied, his voice steady despite his internal relief.
Dr. Lee leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled before him. "Based on your performance, I've decided you won't be treated as an ordinary intern going forward." A slight smile crossed his face as he noted Mu-shin's carefully controlled reaction. "However, skill is only one component of becoming a good doctor. Experience—real clinical experience with a variety of cases—cannot be rushed beyond a certain point."
He leaned forward, his expression becoming more focused. "For the next week, you'll continue in the Minor Procedure Room, handling the same types of cases you've been seeing. The following week, you'll transition to more complicated cases—still not critical injuries, but ones that require more complex assessment and treatment."
Mu-shin listened attentively, mentally noting the structured progression Dr. Lee was outlining.
"The third week," Dr. Lee continued, "you'll handle patients requiring urgent treatment—cases where time is a factor but not immediately life-threatening. And in the final week of the month, you'll be assigned to patients needing immediate attention—the most serious cases that don't require surgical intervention."
It was a carefully designed escalation of responsibility, each week building on the skills and confidence developed in the previous one. The approach showed Dr. Lee's experience not just as a physician but as a teacher—someone who understood how to develop talent effectively.
"This entire month will be an evaluation," Dr. Lee emphasized. "How you perform with each increasing level of complexity will determine whether you're ready for more challenging assignments afterward."
Mu-shin nodded, his expression serious. "I'm ready for any challenge, Dr. Lee. Thank you for the opportunity."
Dr. Lee studied him for a moment longer, then nodded, apparently satisfied with what he saw. "You're dismissed. Get some rest—tomorrow begins a new phase of your training."
With a respectful bow, Mu-shin rose and left the office, his mind already processing the implications of Dr. Lee's plan. As the door closed behind him, a familiar blue interface materialized in his field of vision.
[Congratulations Host for getting high evaluation from Dr. Lee Sang-wook who is one of the top Trauma Specialists in Western Seoul]
[You have been rewarded with
[Special Talent is different from Skills and Special Skills, while skills can be given to you at higher level proficiency already, Special Talents needs to be mastered and progressed]
[Special Talent; X-ray Vision has been given]
Special Ability Unlocked: X-Ray Vision
Rank: Basic ★☆☆☆
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
At the Basic Rank, you can:
✔ View/Diagnosis through human skin, muscle, and soft tissue.
✔ Clearly see skeletal outlines and larger internal structures.
✔ Detect obvious fractures, dislocations, or foreign objects.
✔ Focus on small, targeted areas with precision.
✔ Can see fine details like microfractures or subtle tissue damage.
✔ Field of view is narrow — requires conscious focus on one spot.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
System Message: Your eyes now carry the insight of a master — though still rough, they are destined to pierce deeper truths.]
[There are four ranks for Special Talents: Basic, Intermediate, Mastered and Perfected]
[To advance from Basic to Intermediate, please do your best to fulfill hidden conditions]
Mu-shin's eyes widened slightly at the unexpected reward. X-ray Vision—a talent that complemented his existing Eye of the Doctor skill perfectly. Together, they would allow him to perform diagnoses with unprecedented accuracy, potentially eliminating the need for certain imaging studies and saving critical time in emergency situations.
He glanced down at his hand, curious to test this new ability. Focusing his concentration, he felt a subtle shift in his perception. The skin and soft tissues of his hand seemed to fade into transparency, revealing the intricate structure of bones beneath—metacarpals, phalanges, the delicate articulations of joints, all visible with startling clarity.
Unlike conventional X-rays, which produced flat, two-dimensional images, this vision provided a three-dimensional view that could be adjusted by changing his focus. Even more remarkably, there was no radiation exposure to worry about—a significant advantage over traditional imaging methods.
A smile spread across his face as he released the focus, his hand returning to normal appearance. With Eye of the Doctor providing enhanced visual assessment of external symptoms and X-ray Vision allowing him to see internal structures, his diagnostic capabilities had just taken a quantum leap forward. These abilities would be invaluable in the increasingly complex cases Dr. Lee had planned for him.
With a renewed sense of purpose, Mu-shin made his way through the hospital corridors toward the resident dormitory. The hospital's rhythm had shifted with the evening hours—the daytime bustle replaced by the more measured pace of the night shift. Nurses moved between rooms with quiet efficiency, the occasional announcement over the PA system breaking the relative calm.
When he reached the dormitory, he found his roommates—the residents he had met on his first day—lounging on their beds, each engaged with their mobile phones. Though it was 2002 and smartphones were still years away, the flip phones and early PDAs of the era provided enough distraction for medical staff seeking brief escapes from the pressures of hospital work.
"There he is—the miracle intern," Kwon Hyun-sik called out as Mu-shin entered. "How was your meeting with Dr. Lee?"
Mu-shin set his bag down beside his assigned bed. "It went well. He's given me a structured progression for the next month—increasingly complex cases each week."
"That's unprecedented," Jo Sung-hoon remarked, looking up from his phone. "Most interns spend their first six months doing scut work and basic procedures under constant supervision."
Shin Woo-jin nodded in agreement. "Dr. Lee must really see something in you. What was your day like?"
"Busy," Mu-shin replied simply. "Treated over fifty patients in the Minor Procedure Room."
The residents exchanged impressed glances. "Fifty?" Baek Tae-hyun whistled low. "We were in the OR all day—just three surgeries, but they were complex ones. Assisting the specialists during those procedures is mentally exhausting."
Their faces indeed showed the strain of intense concentration maintained over hours of high-stakes surgery. Mu-shin could relate—though his procedures had been less complex, the volume and variety had required constant focus and adaptation.
As they shared stories from their respective days, Mu-shin felt a growing sense of camaraderie with these young doctors. Though they had more formal experience than he did, they treated him as a peer rather than a subordinate, perhaps recognizing that his unusual path didn't diminish his capabilities.
Eventually, fatigue overtook conversation, and Mu-shin settled onto his bed, allowing his body to rest while his mind continued processing the day's events. Soon, the steady breathing of his roommates indicated they had fallen asleep, leaving him alone with his thoughts in the dimly lit room.
The next morning, Mu-shin awoke to the now-familiar chime of a system notification.
[Congratulations Host for receiving your Daily Reward; 1 Energy Tonic]
[Energy Tonic; Recovers lost Energy equivalent to 1 hour without side effect.
Usage; 10 Tonics per day only, after 10 Tonics, Host is recommended to have a healthy rest for minimum of 6-9 hours. 6 hrs at minimum while 9 hrs at best]
Mu-shin studied the notification with interest. Unlike the skills and talents he had received previously, this reward was consumable—a resource rather than a permanent ability. One hour of recovered energy might seem modest, but in the context of a hospital where fatigue could lead to errors, such a tonic could be invaluable during extended shifts or emergencies.
He made a mental note of this new addition to his system inventory. While not as immediately impressive as X-ray Vision or specialized medical skills, the Energy Tonic represented a different kind of advantage—the ability to maintain peak performance beyond normal human endurance when circumstances demanded it.
Following his now-established morning routine, Mu-shin showered, changed into his intern uniform, and headed to the hospital canteen for breakfast. There, he joined the same group of residents he had befriended during his first days, sharing a meal and conversation before they all dispersed to their respective assignments.
When Mu-shin arrived at the ER nurse station, he was surprised to find Yoo Jae-won already waiting for him. Her presence was unexpected—nurse assignments typically rotated, and he had assumed he would be working with different staff as the month progressed.
"Good morning, Dr. Yoon," she greeted him with the warm smile that had become familiar over their weeks working together. "I was hoping to catch you before you started your rounds."
"Nurse Yoo," he acknowledged with a slight bow. "I didn't expect to see you here today. Are you assigned to the Minor Procedure Room again?"
Her eyes crinkled with amusement. "Actually, I requested to continue working with you. After a month of developing our rhythm, it seemed a shame to start over with someone new."
Mu-shin was touched by her dedication. Their working relationship had indeed evolved into something special—a seamless collaboration where each anticipated the other's needs and actions. Such partnerships were rare in medicine and valuable when found.
"I'm glad," he said simply, but his tone conveyed genuine appreciation.
Together, they made their way to the Minor Procedure Room, falling into the comfortable pattern they had established over the past month. As days turned into weeks, they faced increasingly challenging cases, just as Dr. Lee had outlined. Mu-shin's new abilities—particularly the X-ray Vision—proved invaluable, allowing him to make accurate diagnoses and treatment decisions with unprecedented speed and confidence.
Each morning brought another Energy Tonic as his daily reward, gradually building his collection to twenty-nine unused tonics by the end of the month. Though tempted to use them during particularly demanding shifts, Mu-shin chose to save them for true emergencies, relying instead on his natural stamina and discipline.
On the final day of the month-long evaluation, Mu-shin and Jae-won completed their shift with a sense of accomplishment. They had successfully managed every case assigned to them, from simple lacerations in the first week to complex multi-system injuries requiring immediate intervention in the final week.
As they cleaned and restocked the procedure room for the next day's staff, a comfortable silence settled between them—the kind that develops only after extensive time working closely together.
"It's been quite a month," Jae-won finally said, organizing a tray of instruments with practiced efficiency. "I've learned more working with you than in all my previous training combined."
Mu-shin looked up from the inventory checklist he was completing. "The learning has been mutual," he replied honestly. "Your assistance has been invaluable."
Jae-won's expression softened. "We make a good team, don't we?" She hesitated, then added with uncharacteristic vulnerability, "If you become a doctor with your own department someday, I hope you'll consider adding me to your team."
The request caught Mu-shin by surprise—not because it was unreasonable, but because it revealed a level of forward thinking and ambition he hadn't previously recognized in Jae-won. She wasn't just a nurse-in-training content with her current role; she was planning her own career trajectory, seeing in their partnership a potential path to advancement.
"I would be fortunate to have you," he replied, meaning it. In both his lives, he had learned the value of reliable teammates—whether in combat or in medicine, having someone you could trust implicitly made all the difference.
With their work complete, they parted ways at the hospital entrance, Jae-won heading home while Mu-shin returned to the resident dormitory. He found it empty, as had become usual for this time of night. His roommates, like most of the hospital's residents with evening free time, had gone out to enjoy Seoul's nightlife—seeking brief escapes from the pressures of medical training.
In the month since his arrival, Mu-shin had not once left the hospital grounds. His focus had been entirely on establishing himself in his new role, learning the hospital's systems, and maximizing the opportunities presented by Dr. Lee's unusual training program.
After a quick shower, Mu-shin returned to his bed with a towel draped over his damp hair. Alone in the quiet room, he summoned the system interface to check his accumulated points.
[Yoon Mu-shin
Age: 25
Position: Intern
Doctor Points: 1300
Knowledge Points: 650]
[Host can purchase Doctor Items and Doctor Skills with your available Points:
Resident Level: 100 Pts
Specialist Level: 500 Pts
National Level: 2000 Pts
Global (World) Level: 5000 Pts]
The numbers represented a month of dedicated work—treating patients, learning procedures, applying medical knowledge in practical situations. Each successful diagnosis and treatment had earned him Doctor Points, while his continuous learning and application of medical knowledge had generated Knowledge Points.
As he studied the available options, Mu-shin considered his next steps carefully. Dr. Lee would soon evaluate his month-long performance and determine his future assignments. Being prepared for whatever challenges lay ahead was essential.
After careful deliberation, Mu-shin decided to invest in a skill that would serve him well regardless of his next assignment. He allocated 500 of his Knowledge Points toward the purchase of Advanced Trauma Life Support skills. The system responded immediately with a new notification.
[Item Purchased: Advanced Trauma Life Support (ATLS)
Level: Specialist
Cost: 500 Knowledge Points
You have acquired:
✔ Full mastery of trauma assessment and management.
✔ Expert-level knowledge of prioritizing injuries, stabilizing patients, and executing life-saving interventions.
✔ Command over rapid decision-making under high-pressure emergency conditions.
✔ Techniques covering airway, breathing, circulation, disability, exposure (ABCDE) — applied with near-instant recall.
✔ Specialist-level insight on when to intervene and when to transfer for surgical care.
> System Message: From now on, no trauma case is beyond your hands. You are a specialist among specialists, even if your title does not yet reflect it.
You are able to:
✅ Take control in chaotic emergency scenes.
✅ Stabilize polytrauma patients faster than seasoned doctors.]
As the notification faded, Mu-shin felt the now-familiar sensation of knowledge integrating into his consciousness—not just facts and procedures but muscle memory, decision-making frameworks, and the intuitive understanding that came from experience. It was as if he had spent years managing trauma cases, the lessons of hundreds of critical situations suddenly available to him.
He understood the precise sequence of assessment and intervention that could mean the difference between life and death in the critical first minutes after injury. He could recall without effort the indicators for emergency surgical intervention versus continued medical management. The complex calculations for fluid resuscitation, the nuances of managing traumatic brain injuries, the techniques for temporary stabilization of pelvic fractures—all were now part of his working knowledge.
A smile of satisfaction spread across his face. This investment would serve him well in whatever assignment came next, preparing him for increasingly complex cases and positioning him to make the most of future opportunities.
Rising from his bed, Mu-shin decided to use the remaining hours before sleep to make rounds through the wards, checking on patients he had treated earlier. It had become his habit to follow up on cases whenever possible, tracking outcomes and learning from the progression of each condition.
With renewed purpose in his step, Yoon Mu-shin left the dormitory, eager to continue his rounds and prepare for whatever challenges awaited him in the coming days. The path from soldier to healer was unfolding before him, each step bringing him closer to mastery in his new profession.
The next morning, Mu-shin received a message from a nurse that Dr. Lee had requested his presence in the Deputy Director's office. With a mixture of anticipation and calm professionalism, he made his way through the hospital corridors, wondering what the outcome of his month-long evaluation would be.
He found Dr. Lee at his desk, reading from a thick medical text on emergency medicine. The senior doctor looked up as Mu-shin entered, gesturing for him to take a seat.
"Dr. Yoon," he began, closing the book and giving Mu-shin his full attention. "I've reviewed your performance over the past month in detail. The progression from simple cases to complex ones, your diagnostic accuracy, your treatment decisions, your documentation—all of it."
Mu-shin waited silently, maintaining the composed demeanor that had become his trademark.
"I am more than satisfied with the results," Dr. Lee continued, a rare note of approval in his voice. "You've demonstrated not just technical skill but sound judgment, appropriate caution when needed, and decisive action when required. These qualities are harder to teach than any procedure."
Relief and pride mingled in Mu-shin's chest, though his expression remained professionally neutral. "Thank you, sir. I appreciate the opportunity you've given me."
Dr. Lee leaned forward, his expression becoming more intent. "Based on your performance, I'm offering you another opportunity—one that's even more unusual for someone at your level of training."
Mu-shin's attention sharpened.
"For the next three months, you'll join me in the operating room whenever I perform surgery," Dr. Lee explained. "You'll observe and learn the protocols and procedures firsthand—something interns rarely experience until much later in their training."
This was an extraordinary opportunity—direct mentorship from one of the hospital's top surgeons, exposure to complex cases, and accelerated learning that could advance his career by years.
"I should clarify," Dr. Lee added, noting Mu-shin's carefully controlled reaction. "You'll be observing only, not operating. Not yet. The OR is a different environment from the procedure room, with higher stakes and less room for error."
"I understand completely," Mu-shin replied, his enthusiasm undimmed. Even observation at this stage was more than he could have hoped for.
"When I'm not performing surgery, you'll continue your work in the Minor Procedure Room and rotate through other departments and wards as required by your internship program," Dr. Lee continued. "After three months of this arrangement, I'll evaluate your progress again. If you continue to demonstrate the same aptitude and dedication, I may—and I stress may—allow you to assist me directly during procedures."
The implication was clear—this was another test, another opportunity to prove himself worthy of accelerated advancement.
"And if you can prove yourself as an assistant," Dr. Lee added, a hint of challenge in his voice, "who knows? Perhaps you might eventually be given your own team in the Trauma Bay."
Mu-shin couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. The prospect of leading a trauma team—something typically reserved for senior residents or fellows—was beyond anything he had anticipated at this stage of his training.
"Thank you for your faith in me, Dr. Lee," he said, his voice steady despite his excitement. "I won't disappoint you."
Dr. Lee nodded, a mysterious smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "We'll see. Medicine has a way of humbling even the most talented among us."
With that, Mu-shin was dismissed. He left the office with his mind racing, already planning how to prepare for this new phase of his training. The system's rewards—particularly his newly acquired Advanced Trauma Life Support skills—would prove invaluable in the operating room environment.
As he walked through the hospital corridors, Mu-shin felt a profound sense of purpose. In just one month, he had progressed from a newly arrived intern to someone being groomed for advanced responsibilities. The path ahead was challenging but clear, and with the Doctor System's assistance, he was uniquely equipped to excel.
With a determined stride, he headed toward the wards to begin his patient rounds, eager to continue building the knowledge and experience that would serve him in the operating room and beyond.