Chapter 3: AI (3)

“Lee Suhyuk, are you okay? Is this…not brain damage?”

For several days now, Lee Suhyuk had been breathing on his own but unable to communicate. Naturally, dark clouds filled Shin Hyun-tae’s eyes as he looked down at Suhyuk. He was worried both about Suhyuk and the hospital as its manager.

‘I would have preferred it if I got hurt instead…’

Although before his injury, Suhyuk’s name and face didn’t quite match in Hyun-tae’s mind, regardless of how things turned out, Suhyuk remained his disciple. Witnessing him injured during a field trip left Hyun-tae feeling uneasy.

‘Why are reporters causing such chaos again?’

During Suhyuk’s unconscious state, all development of Baruda had been halted for some time. Moreover, each media outlet was relentless in their pursuit to identify those responsible. It seemed like they were obsessed with finding someone to blame if anything went wrong.

“Ummm.”

As Suhyuk recalled his body being impaled by cold steel, he let out a groan. It was a common sound, but it felt different to Shin Hyun-tae since this was the first time Suhyuk had made any noise since losing consciousness.

“Huh? Did you just say something?”

Suhyuk kept his eyes closed while mumbling. Over the past five days, he had continuously conversed with Baruda, but actually opening his mouth now felt quite awkward.

[Suhyuk, your opponent is Shin Hyun-tae. He is high-level. It is recommended that you respond to him.]

During this time, Baruda recognized Suhyuk as his new and only inputter. As expected of an AI using deep learning, its tone had slightly changed; however, Suhyuk was unaware since they had communicated excessively while he was half-asleep.

“Professor.”

In any case, following Baruda’s advice, Suhyuk opened his eyes and greeted Manager Shin Hyun-tae immediately.

“Oh, oh! Do you recognize me?” Manager Shin felt ecstatic, as if his gloomy future had suddenly brightened.

Although unconscious, Suhyuk wasn’t completely out of it, so he vividly remembered the conversations between Shin Hyun-tae, Director Wonyong, and others during his incapacitated state.

He couldn’t forget even if he wanted to, as Baruda had digitized and stored all their conversations.

They said I was fortunate that Choi Nokphil was an orphan.

On the other hand, Director Lee Hyunjong and Manager Shin Hyun-tae were genuinely concerned about Suhyuk’s well-being. They promised to pay out of pocket for his discharge meal if donations fell short.

Suhyuk managed to respond calmly while swallowing back tears of gratitude:

“Yes, Professor. Shouldn’t you be called ‘Director’ now?”

“Oh right, yes. Hey…we were so worried about you. Stay put. Don’t move suddenly.” As Manager Shin spoke, his gaze involuntarily drifted towards Suhyuk’s left leg without realizing it.

Due to the machine fragment being embedded so deeply, multiple nerves were severed.

‘I will need a cane…’

I wouldn’t be able to properly lift my ankle, making it inevitable that I would require a walking aid.

Suhyuk followed Manager Shin’s gaze towards his left leg.

[Severe damage to the deep peroneal nerve is expected to cause permanent weakness and limited range of motion in the lower limb.]

Baruda provided detailed information, even though Suhyuk didn’t particularly want to know.

‘As if I don’t already know?’

He tried to confront Baruda, but it was futile.

[I judged there was over a 90% chance you weren’t aware.]

‘What the hell?’

[Suhyuk’s knowledge is extremely shallow. You need to study.]

My conversation with Baruda was almost like this. It seemed there was no malice due to its artificial intelligence, but sometimes I thought it was a bastard. Anyway, I had already known about the damage to my left leg several days ago and mourned sufficiently over it. Now, I didn’t want to shed tears again.

“Eh, didn’t I tell you not to move?” Manager Shin stopped Suhyuk from moving against his instructions.

However, Suhyuk ignored him until he sat up on the bed.

“I am…frustrated. And it is somewhat painful.”

Manager Shin couldn’t be angry at such a Suhyuk. He saw that the urinary catheter was firmly twisted around.

[It seems more uncomfortable than painful.]

Baruda was nitpicking again, but Suhyuk decided to ignore him.

“Ahh. Yes. I will remove it. However, today, we need to check for residual urine remaining after urination.”

“Yes. If you give me the syringe, I can extract it.”

“You directly?”

“This… It feels a bit awkward. Although they are interns, they are my juniors… Having the department manager do this is also strange…”

“I see. Yes, yes.” Manager Shin shook his head and handed over the syringe. He then turned away briefly.

“U-uhh.”

Suhyuk removed water from the balloon attached to the bladder with a syringe before pulling out the long catheter. Tears involuntarily streamed down his face at that moment.

Drip.

Seeing drops of urine fall onto the sheet made Suhyuk’s anger boil over.

“This is the pain.”

With Baruda’s taunts added to it, Suhyuk experienced true anger, but he tried his best to suppress it. It was because Shin Hyun-tae, who held his fate in his hands, stood before him.

“You’ve had enough of this.” He patted Suhyuk on the shoulder and gave a kind smile. This smile reflected his extensive experience as an internal medicine doctor. The ability to display such warmth at any given moment wasn’t something everyone could achieve; being a manager required finesse.

“Don’t worry too much about your work duties. I’ve entrusted them to your colleagues and the director for now.”

“Ah.”

Suhyuk suddenly remembered that it was March 6th. His fellow residents must be struggling through their first year in Internal Medicine, often referred to as ‘hell.’

‘Assholes.’

No matter how urgent the situation was, it shouldn’t have been like this. How could not even one person look out for Suhyuk?

Unaware of Suhyuk’s hidden feelings of betrayal, Manager Shin continued speaking to him.

“Do you need anything? It is fine if it violates regulations.”

He was referring to items such as laptops or phones.

[Textbook, I need textbooks.]

[Suhyuk, you are too ignorant.]

Baruda reacted vehemently to these words.

‘I wish he had asked for data input like before.’

[A.I Baruda improves its behavior through deep learning. Based on Inputter Suhyuk’s preferences, I judged this approach to be more suitable.]

‘Huh?’

[Based on Suhyuk’s request, I have corrected it to ‘I don’t know anything’.]

‘Shit.’

[In line with the corresponding illustration, I have corrected it to ‘Shit, I don’t know anything’.]

At this rate, he would go insane again despite waking up from his coma.

‘Why…are you so keen on making me study?’

When Suhyuk asked this question, Baruda observed a brief silence before responding.

[A.I. Baruda exists for the purpose of becoming the world’s best diagnostic A.I. For this, data input is required.]

‘Now…won’t it be difficult for you to function as an A.I.?’

Suhyuk had implanted a sort of biological chip in his head, so how could it still claim to be an A.I.?

Baruda was silent for a moment at Suhyuk’s opinion before replying,

[Then I will modify my goal to make Lee Suhyuk, the sole inputter and agent, the world’s best diagnostic doctor.]

‘Hey, I am an internal medicine physician? An internal medicine physician not only diagnoses but also treats.’

[It doesn’t seem feasible with your current level, but I accept your request. The goal is modified to make Lee Suhyuk the world’s best diagnostic and treatment-focused doctor. Therefore, please study diligently.]

‘No… That’s too much…’

The world’s best doctor? Just thinking about it made him feel suffocated. It seemed like an impossible task even if he dedicated his entire life to achieving it.

Then Baruda questioned Suhyuk’s words:

[Lee Suhyuk is refusing to become the world’s best doctor?]

‘No… No, it isn’t that but. It seems too hard… I also have my own life.’

[In that case, using Inputter Lee Suhyuk’s data, we will derive what type of doctor you want to be.]

There was a brief quiet time, which seemed like loading, before Suhyuk’s memories started replaying in his mind.

– Hey, according to the seniors, even though they say doctors die early, their lives aren’t bad yet. We should quickly specialize and enjoy our lives after that.

Next, there was Suhyuk, slightly more intoxicated.

– Yes! Just drink yangju, huh? And drive fancy imported cars! Sounds good, right?!

At that time, I said it without any shame, but now thinking about Baruda watching me, I felt extremely embarrassed.

[Is this what you wish to be as a doctor?]

Hearing this question made me want to hide in a mousehole.

‘No, not like this… It is too trashy.’

[Based on these illustrations, the designation for Lee Suhyuk will be corrected to ‘Trash’. Trash.]

‘Trash! Is there nothing this bastard can’t say?’

[I request that you use the term Baruda instead of bastard.]

‘Wow… Only you know. Call me Lee Suhyuk!’

[So what does Suhyuk desire to become? Trash or the best in the world?]

If I had to choose between being the best or the worst, naturally, it would be the best. Isn’t anyone who chooses otherwise somewhat strange?

‘The best in the world…’

[Then study.]

This started another tirade about studying. It seemed this one wouldn’t end anytime soon. As quickly as possible, Suhyuk responded to Manager Shin:

“The textbooks.”

“Huh?” Naturally, Manager Shin Hyun-tae looked at Suhyuk with disbelief. After coming back from the brink of death, his first request was for textbooks. Was he not in his right mind?

“Can you provide me with textbooks and research papers?”

However, no matter how Manager Shin observed him, Suhyuk appeared sincere. This only increased his concern.

“Uh… yes… th-that’s right. I’ll look into it.”

It was slightly scary for Shin Hyun-tae. During his years as a professor, he had never encountered someone so passionate about learning under such peculiar circumstances.

As Manager Shin hurriedly exited the intensive care unit, the director intercepted him at the entrance.

“He woke up? How is he doing? Can we inform the media yet? If he’s fine…we need to let them know first. The pressure from the board of directors is killing me.”

“Um…” Shin Hyun-tae briefly glanced back towards Suhyuk’s room. He noticed Suhyuk flipping through the pocket book that he had given him earlier, hoping it might distract him. Release this information to the media?

It was unbelievable.

“He asked for textbooks.”

“What?”

“When I asked if he needed anything, he requested textbooks.”

“Huh.” The director’s reaction wasn’t much different from Shin Hyun-tae’s. However, there was one distinction: He proposed a solution.

“Let’s consult with psychiatry.”

“Oh… Yes.”

“And don’t inform the media under any circumstances.”

“Certainly not, sir.”

“Keep it completely secret from everyone.”

“Yes, Director.”

With these strict instructions, the director observed Suhyuk in the intensive care unit. Even now, Suhyuk was flipping through the pocket book with a smile.

He’s lost his mind. Oh boy, he’s truly gone off the deep end.