The True Future
“I knew it. You’re still alive.”
“Didn’t I tell you I would come find you again?”
Kim Jun-young wore a faint smile as he addressed Park Su-hwan with careful courtesy.
“There’s one thing I’m curious about. May I ask?”
His manner was markedly more respectful than before. Not a trace remained of the quiet disdain he had once shown toward the so-called fraud shaman.
“By all means.”
“Fourteen forty-two. Why was I about to be hit by a car right there at that exact moment? I could just as easily have still been at the hospital.”
It almost sounded like an interrogation, yet the curiosity was pure. Su-hwan read it without difficulty.
“Because of your daughter. She likes bread, doesn’t she?”
“How did you— Yes. That’s right.”
“After finishing Han Su-young’s surgery, you were on your way to buy bread for your daughter before heading home. That’s why you were at that place at that time. Originally, that is.”
Kim Jun-young swallowed hard. He had believed he was already sufficiently astonished. He had not expected there would still be more surprises left.
“Then Han Su-young…?”
“Exactly what you’re thinking. The only reason Han Su-young could live is because you were still at the hospital.”
“Heh…”
Su-hwan laid out the facts with quiet calm.
“That was the true future I saw for you, Professor.”
Only then did Kim’s face clear, every remaining question falling into place. Every piece of the puzzle fit perfectly.
So that’s why he kept insisting I stay at the hospital.
If he had finished the surgery that day and simply gone home… Han Su-young would have died, without question, from delayed hemorrhage.
It was not a problem the duty doctors or residents could have handled. On top of that, a major traffic accident had flooded the ER with critical surgical cases; the place had been pure chaos. What they needed most was the hands of a seasoned surgical specialist. Because Kim Jun-young had remained at the hospital, the worst had been averted.
How many lives did that single word of his save?
He’s real… a real shaman.
Stories he had half-heard from acquaintances drifted back to him. The genuine ones, they said, could look at a face and simply recite the future.
A chill ran down his spine. If he had ignored the warning, what would have become of him by now?
Kim Jun-young bowed his head deeply, gratitude thick in the gesture. Startled, Su-hwan hurriedly waved both hands to stop him.
“I truly don’t know how to thank you. First, I bought a few gifts. Would you accept them?”
He held out shopping bags filling both hands. Su-hwan’s eyes flicked over them on pure instinct.
Huh. All of them from department stores?
Among them even sat an orange shopping bag. However much of a luxury novice Su-hwan might be, he still knew what that one meant.
Far too extravagant for mere compensation. Without meaning to, Su-hwan stammered.
“I-I’m fine. I’ve already received the Bokchae. Rather than gifts… there is one favor I’d like to ask.”
He forced down the greed welling up inside him. Right now there was something more important than those luxury brands. He remembered why he had rushed home in such a hurry.
“Please take these as well, and then tell me the favor. If it’s something I can do, I’ll help with anything.”
Kim Jun-young did not miss the lingering look in Su-hwan’s eyes toward the gifts. The human reaction drew an involuntary small smile from him.
“Well, if you insist.”
“Good. What is the favor?”
“Someone I know is going to collapse from a cerebral hemorrhage soon. Would it be possible for him to get a full work-up beforehand?”
“He’s going to collapse from a cerebral hemorrhage soon?”
He saw someone else’s future again.
Kim was certain of it.
A cerebral hemorrhage was a time bomb that detonated without warning. Knowing of and preventing a disease that struck suddenly with no precursors was something nearly impossible by medical standards.
Yet what came from Kim Jun-young’s mouth was this:
“Cerebral hemorrhage isn’t my specialty, but I can still help. I’ll contact a neurosurgery professor directly.”
Complete, trusting affirmation of Su-hwan’s words.
He added, as if to set him at ease:
“He’s a close friend of mine, one of the top five cerebrovascular surgeons in the country. I personally guarantee his skill, so you’ll be able to get the full work-up immediately without any waiting. And…”
His gaze shifted to Su-hwan’s visibly uncomfortable leg.
“Your leg seems a little troublesome. I’ll arrange for a thorough examination of it as well while you’re there. Make sure you get it checked this time.”
“Ah…”
Su-hwan drew in a sharp breath at the completely unexpected offer.
He had been thinking only of saving Old Man Choi. He had never imagined help would extend this far.
I was curious anyway…
He wanted to know in medical detail exactly how his leg had changed. Whether it was simple improvement, or whether he could truly walk properly again.
“I still can’t believe this.”
Choi Young-gam, dressed in a patient gown, looked around the luxurious hospital room with a dazed expression.
“I told you it was real.”
Su-hwan was just as stunned. Kim Jun-young had secured the room the very next day and called them in for admission.
At a university hospital, even getting tests done immediately was already an enormous privilege…
He had never dreamed they would be given a special suite.
Kim had even already arranged with the administrative office to cover every expense.
Never thought I’d set foot in a place like this in my whole life.
A plush leather sofa, a large television, a personal computer, even a refrigerator. It was on an entirely different level from a multi-bed ward.
I should offer a prayer of gratitude later, ask the General to look kindly on our professor. Not that I know whether it’ll do any good.
“Money really is the best, isn’t it?”
Su-hwan’s greed was already lifting its head again.
“What kind of nonsense is that.”
“There’s a reason the old saying goes that generosity comes from a full granary. Well? Doesn’t this make the Bokchae more than worth it?”
In return for reading the fortunes of Choi Young-gam and Choi Hana, he had obtained a rare and precious piece of Byeokjomok.
“Do you have any idea how much that was worth…”
Young-gam still sounded as if he could not let it go, voice full of lingering regret.
“Still cheaper than a life.”
“It was a hundred years old! A hundred years! Struck by lightning three whole times!”
Young-gam smacked his lips and raised his voice in frustration. But what could he do? It was the price for saving himself and his precious granddaughter.
Knock knock.
“Coming in.”
A doctor entered the room accompanied by a nurse pushing a wheelchair.
“Hello. I’m Jung Han-soo from neurosurgery.”
“Ah… yes.”
Choi Young-gam, Choi Hana, and Park Su-hwan all bowed their heads in greeting.
“Professor Kim kept asking me to take good care of you until I thought my ears would fall off. Honestly surprised me. That guy isn’t the type. Really now, ha-ha.”
Su-hwan offered a light nod and asked,
“We’ll be in your care. So the tests begin right away?”
“That’s correct. If you take a seat in the wheelchair here, we’ll move you comfortably to the examination room.”
Choi Young-gam left the room in the wheelchair, escorted by the medical staff.
“It’ll really be all right, won’t it?”
Choi Hana watched her grandfather’s retreating figure, voice trembling.
“Yeah. Nothing’s going to happen. Our General says he’ll be fine.”
“Our Young Lady hasn’t said a word, though…”
Originally they should have stormed the school together that very day. Young-gam’s earlier-than-expected admission had changed the plan.
“Ah, must be a lack of proper offerings. You’ve been praying diligently, right?”
“I guess so…”
Her face clouded over in an instant. Su-hwan, realizing his misstep, hurriedly waved both hands.
“Joke. Just a joke. Unclench that face. I’m going to drop by the rehabilitation medicine department for a bit.”
“Yes. Please go carefully.”
“Sure.”
Su-hwan left the room with a deliberately casual air. His gait still limped, yet compared to before it looked distinctly more natural.
A short while later, having finished the thorough examination in rehabilitation medicine, Park Su-hwan sat in a chair in the consultation room. The doctor who had been staring hard at the monitor tilted his head.
“This is genuinely strange.”
He wore the expression of a man who simply could not believe the results in front of him.
“How does it look?”
Tense to the limit, Su-hwan carefully asked about the findings.
“You said you were badly injured in a traffic accident when you were young?”
“Yes.”
“Which caused major nerve damage, and problems with the growth plate that led to leg-length discrepancy.”
“Yes.”
“This is odd. The nerves have completely regenerated. And there’s no significant abnormality in the bone either. The physical damage is in a fully recovered state. That shouldn’t be possible…”
Restoring once-damaged nerves remained a realm nearly impossible for modern medicine. The doctor’s open shock was entirely reasonable.
My leg really recovered…?
The vague sense that his leg had improved hardened into certainty. Hiding his trembling hands, Su-hwan asked,
“So I can walk properly again?”
“Not just walk—you could start running around right this minute. Tsk. A real mystery.”
The doctor rechecked the results as if still unable to accept them, then continued the explanation calmly.
“The limp you’re showing now looks, to my eye, like habit. You said you’ve walked that way for a long time. Steady rehabilitation and you’ll return to normal soon enough.”
“Thank you…!”
Su-hwan swallowed the emotion surging up inside him. Something he had dreamed of for so long had come true like a miracle.
“Ah, no need to thank me. I didn’t fix it or anything.”
The doctor smiled in a friendly way.
“I don’t know the reason, but good news is good news, right? Just think of it as a miracle that found you.”
There was more good news waiting for Su-hwan: Choi Young-gam’s test results.
“Truly a stroke of heaven’s luck. If you’d come even a little later, there would have been nothing we could do. So this is why Professor Kim kept asking me so urgently to take care of things.”
Professor Jung Han-soo let out a sigh of relief and pointed at the monitor.
“You see this blood vessel ballooned out like a berry? Classic cerebral aneurysm. It wouldn’t have been strange if it had ruptured today.”
“I was really about to die?”
Choi Young-gam muttered, staring blankly at the screen.
“Yes. I’ll explain the coil embolization procedure in detail. Just a moment…”
In the hospital room, Choi Young-gam had fallen into deep sleep after the grueling surgery. Su-hwan and Choi Hana therefore moved to the lounge.
Late evening; the lounge attached to the special suite was empty. Su-hwan looked at Hana sitting in a chair and asked,
“What do you want to do from here?”
Because Young-gam had received treatment in time, her future had already changed greatly.
But the fact that she was a victim of school violence remained unchanged.
“…I want to graduate.”
“Wouldn’t transferring be better? You could start fresh with new friends you meet there.”
“No. I don’t need friends. I’ve been on my own for years already. And I won’t run away. I have nothing to be ashamed of.”
After a moment’s thought she spoke in a firm voice.
As expected. She was far stronger than he had thought. There was a reason Bari Gongju had chosen her as medium.
“That’s right. The ones who did wrong are the ones who should run. Why should you leave?”
“I’m not going to put up with it anymore. I have all the evidence of everything those bastards did to me.”