Chapter 8: Fragments of Memory Sharper Than a Scalpel

The world had once again been broken down into twice its normal resolution and was pouring into my brain.

It was well past midnight. The air inside Baekgyeong University’s medical library was tense with the sound of heavy breathing and pages turning.

The fluorescent lights on the ceiling cast a sharp white glow over the desks, and every now and then, someone’s sigh would cut through the silence like a blade.

Tomorrow was the day of the anatomy spot test, known among medical students as their first graveyard.

[System Active: Limited Body-2 (LB-2)]

[Visual Indexing Mode: Activated]

[Data Scan Speed: 1.2 sec/Page]

I stared at the mountain of anatomy atlases piled up in front of me.

The colorful illustrations in Netter and the precise line drawings in Grant passed through my retina and were instantly converted into three-dimensional coordinate data.

The complex paths of blood vessels and delicate nerve branches, which ordinary students struggled to memorize after an entire semester spent in anatomy labs surrounded by blood and formalin, were being indexed into my brain in real time.

I wasn’t simply memorizing them.

My brain was reconstructing every structure of the human body into a giant 3D hologram, creating a virtual anatomy lab inside my mind.

If I closed my eyes, I could practically feel the texture of fascia and the elasticity of arteries at my fingertips.

The anatomy knowledge, transformed into streams of zeros and ones, filled every gap in my neural network.

It was an exhilarating sensation, almost like becoming a god.

But at the same time, it brought a chilling pain, as though my brain was being pushed right to the edge of its information-processing limit.

“Uh… Han Ji-hoon.”

“Are you actually studying right now?”

“Or are you just fanning the pages?”

A classmate sitting beside me whispered in horror while trying to memorize the vascular system.

From his perspective, watching me mechanically flip a page every second made me look completely insane.

Without taking my eyes off the book, I smiled.

“Ah, I’m appreciating the artwork.”

“You should look too.”

“The branching point of the celiac artery here is beautiful.”

“It’s practically the golden ratio.”

“You’re crazy.”

He stared at me.

“At this rate, you’re going to completely lose it tomorrow.”

“Professor Park is supposedly going all out with the pins this time.”

Instead of answering, I closed the book and stretched.

Inside my brain were already perfectly indexed data sets from dozens of cadavers that had been dissected and scanned in detail.

All that remained was packaging this overwhelming absurdity as the achievement of a hardworking genius.

***

The Next Morning

The anatomy lab smelled of formalin so strongly that it seemed to seep through my clothes and into my bones.

Eighty first-year medical students stood in line with pale faces.

Twenty dissection tables were arranged throughout the room.

Cadavers lay on each table, covered in numbered pins marking tiny nerves, blood vessels, and anatomical structures.

Fifteen seconds.

At every bell, students had to move to the next table and identify the structure indicated by the pin, writing its exact name in both Latin and English.

It was a merciless relay race where hesitation and spelling mistakes were unforgivable.

“Han Ji-hoon.”

“Let’s see if your famous luck works in this lab too.”

Professor Park walked past me in his white coat.

His eyes burned with determination.

After the embarrassment I’d caused him during the seminar, he clearly intended to get revenge.

He had openly declared that he had deliberately placed pins only in the most difficult and highly variable anatomical structures.

Standing in the row beside me was Lee Se-young.

She maintained her perfect posture while repeatedly opening and closing the cap of a black Monami ballpoint pen.

“Ji-hoon.”

“Aren’t you nervous?”

“Yesterday you were flipping pages like you didn’t care.”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to hand in a blank answer sheet today.”

Her tone was cool, but the slight trembling in her fingertips showed she wasn’t immune to the pressure of this exam either.

“Come on, Se-young.”

“Can’t you hear my heartbeat?”

“It’s practically a drum solo.”

“Actually, since we’re bored, want to make a bet?”

“A bet? At a time like this?”

“If I get a perfect score today, you buy me dinner.”

“If I miss even one question, I’ll carry your bag and write your reports for the entire semester.”

“What do you say, Miss Top Student?”

“You’ve got nothing to lose.”

Se-young let out a short laugh.

For a brief moment, a crack appeared in the face of the girl everyone called the Ice Princess.

“A perfect score?”

“There has never been a single perfect score on the first anatomy spot test in Baekgyeong Medical School history.”

“Fine.”

“But if you lose, prepare yourself.”

“I don’t eat anything cheaper than premium beef.”

[Bet Confirmed: Lee Se-young]

[Reward: Premium Beef Date]

[Objective: Achieve the Legendary Perfect Score]

Ding!

The bell rang.

The exam began.

Students rushed toward their assigned tables.

Fifteen seconds was nowhere near enough time to identify a structure and write the correct Latin spelling.

The sound of frantic pens scratching paper mixed with groans of despair and the smell of formalin.

I moved from table to table like flowing water.

The cadavers before me were not merely corpses.

The moment my analysis layer activated, the layers of fat and muscle became transparent.

The nerves and blood vessels beneath them unfolded like glowing maps.

Finally, I reached Table 20.

Professor Park’s masterpiece.

The slaughter zone.

The celiac trunk region, where fatty tissue and nerve plexuses intertwined so intricately that distinguishing them with the naked eye was nearly impossible.

To make things worse, he had placed pins on two of the most difficult structures:

The Left Gastric Artery and the Celiac Ganglion.

Students before me had moved on with hopeless expressions.

Even the top-ranked students in the class couldn’t determine whether the pin indicated a nerve or a blood vessel.

But my LB-2-enhanced vision could not be fooled.

[Data Analysis in Progress]

[Tissue Density and Refraction Calculated]

[Anatomical Correlation Matching Complete]

[Correct Answer Confirmed: Left Gastric Artery & Celiac Ganglion]

Three seconds.

That was all it took.

I wrote the answer.

With twelve seconds still remaining, I casually glanced toward Se-young at the neighboring table.

Her eyebrows were furrowed.

A small bead of sweat rested on the back of her neck.

Even the faint trembling of her eyelashes was perfectly visible to me.

I twirled my pen and waited.

***

Ding!

The final bell rang.

Teaching assistants collected the answer sheets.

Silence filled the room.

Everyone looked exhausted.

Then, near the professor’s office, Professor Park’s hand began trembling visibly as he reviewed the papers.

“A perfect score…?”

“He identified even the microscopic branch on Table 20 without a single mistake?”

“Han Ji-hoon… what are you?”

The lab erupted into murmurs.

Every student turned toward me.

Professor Park alternated between staring at my answer sheet and the cadaver.

I simply shrugged.

“Professor.”

“I listened to one of those ‘Anatomy ASMR Before Sleep’ videos on YouTube last night.”

“It works wonders for memory.”

“Science is amazing.”

***

Later That Evening

“You’re not human, are you?”

“Or maybe you’re an alien hiding your identity?”

We were sitting in a quiet Korean beef restaurant near campus.

Se-young stared blankly at a piece of beef sizzling over charcoal as she spoke.

The cool lavender scent she always carried now mixed faintly with the aroma of grilled meat.

Under the warm yellow restaurant lights, her face looked softer and more alive than usual.

“Come on, Se-young.”

“I’m human.”

“I just pushed my brain a little harder because I wanted an excuse to have dinner alone with you.”

“The meat’s done.”

“This piece is yours.”

I placed the best-cooked piece of beef onto her plate.

Normally she would have refused or responded coldly.

Today, however, she simply ate it with a strangely unguarded expression.

“It’s good.”

She chewed thoughtfully.

“But Ji-hoon.”

“Don’t act so perfect.”

“If you’re trying to hide something, you should be a little less competent.”

“When you get a perfect score this openly, people become even more suspicious.”

“Don’t worry.”

“I only act this capable in front of you.”

“In front of everyone else, I’m still Han Ji-hoon the former benchwarmer.”

I smiled.

“By the way, Se-young.”

“You look really happy when you’re eating meat.”

“Your heart rate is fifteen percent more stable than it was during the anatomy lab.”

Her eyes widened.

Then she burst out laughing.

For the first time, the Ice Princess of Baekgyeong Medical School laughed openly in front of me.

[Target: Lee Se-young]

[Heart Rate: 92 BPM]

[Affinity and Familiarity Data Increasing]

We ended up talking for much longer than expected.

She spoke about the pressure of growing up under a strict hospital-director father.

I told her about my shabby but warm childhood in Seoksu-dong, where Tae-ho and I sometimes survived on nothing but a single triangle kimbap.

She listened carefully.

And as I looked at my reflection in her eyes, I felt a strange sense of fulfillment.

After dinner, a cool night breeze carried her scent toward me.

“Thanks for today.”

“I’ll pay you back for the beef someday.”

“I’m winning our next bet.”

“Oh?”

“You’re already looking forward to the next one?”

“That’s a good sign.”

Se-young got into her white Porsche.

Through the window, she looked at me.

The sharp suspicion that had once filled her eyes had faded.

In its place flickered something much harder to define.

Curiosity.

Excitement.

Something more.

After her car disappeared, I boarded my usual bus back to Seoksu-dong.

Streetlights blinked lazily over the old apartment buildings.

At the entrance to the neighborhood stood the one bright beacon of our area:

Lucky Convenience Store.

Ding-dong.

“Welcome—”

“Huh?”

“Han the Sugar Daddy!”

“What are you doing here this late?”

Tae-ho looked up from behind the counter.

He had been sorting expired lunch boxes.

His old convenience-store vest was stained and worn.

“Tae-ho.”

“My exam’s over.”

“I finally feel alive again.”

“Oh right!”

“That anatomy thing.”

“What happened?”

“Don’t tell me you actually got a perfect score.”

He set down the triangle kimbap he was scanning.

Worry and hope mixed in his eyes.

“Tae-ho.”

“Who am I?”

“I’m Han Ji-hoon, the legend of Seoksu-dong.”

“Of course I got a perfect score.”

“And Se-young bought me premium beef afterward.”

“Stop lying.”

“You? Premium—”

He froze.

“…Wait.”

“Seriously?”

“You really got a perfect score?!”

“You crazy bastard!”

“That’s incredible!”

He scratched his head in disbelief before running around the counter and throwing his arms around me.

The smell of instant noodles and sweat clinging to him felt far more human than formalin ever could.

“Han Ji-hoon!”

“I knew you’d make it!”

“All that cheering wasn’t wasted!”

“I’m seriously moved, man.”

“A perfect-score medical student from Seoksu-dong!”

Breathing heavily, he rushed to the refrigerator.

He grabbed two 1,500-won cans of coffee and scanned them.

Then he pulled out a few wrinkled bills from his thin wallet and paid for them.

Tonight, there was something strangely proud about that gesture.

“Here.”

“This is my treat.”

“I can’t buy you beef.”

“But this is premium Let’s Be coffee, powered by the sincere feelings of Kim Tae-ho.”

“And when you become director of Baekgyeong Hospital someday, save me a spot there.”

“Maybe not in the convenience store.”

“Get me a job at the hospital shop.”

“Deal?”

I opened the cold can.

The expensive beef I’d eaten earlier was already fading from memory.

The sweetness of this cheap coffee, handed to me by my friend’s rough hands, struck much deeper.

[Bracket: Friendship and Trust Data Reaching Critical Threshold]

[Emotion Circuit Activated]

“Of course.”

“I’ll give you a spot right in the middle of the hospital lobby.”

“Maybe even decorate it with gold.”

I took another sip and looked at my reflection in the convenience-store window.

I had gained godlike abilities.

I was breaking legendary records.

Yet what truly supported me wasn’t any of that.

It was this old neighborhood.

This worn-down alley.

And my foolishly kind, loyal friend.

The night air was cold.

The can of coffee in my pocket was warm.

The true legend was no longer confined to the football field or the anatomy lab.

It was quietly making its way into the simple daily lives of the people I loved most.