Chapter 118

Tatatatata.

A doctor helicopter based on the AW139 model was landing on the outskirts of Hanguk University Hospital.

It wasn’t a proper helipad—it was a tennis court.

Whoooosh.

Naturally, the downwash from the rotor blades sent dust flying in all directions.

The spread was more extensive than expected, enough to cause trouble for nearby homes.

“Hurry, hurry!”

But no one inside the helicopter had the time to care about that.

“I’ll get off first and take the patient!”

“Ah, Team Leader Kim!”

The Gyeonggi Fire Department junior that Jung-heon had introduced was named Kim Kang-ryul.

He was a full head taller than Jung-heon, who already had a solid build.

He was nearly Kang-hyuk’s size.

“Up we go.”

He leapt toward the ground even before the helicopter had fully landed.

It was a smooth, practiced motion—he had clearly done this many times before.

“Here! Bring the stretcher!”

Unbothered by the wind, he gestured inward.

Meanwhile, the helicopter touched down safely.

Kang-hyuk and Jaewon immediately handed the head end of the stretcher to Kang-ryul.

“Got it!”

“Okay. Let’s run!”

“Yes, sir!”

The patient was a worker at a factory that manufactured casting products.

A blade had fallen from the ceiling and injured his neck, and the wound was dangerously deep.

They had secured his airway for now and transported him to the hospital.

Dadadada.

Although the patient had a tracheotomy, he was fully conscious.

Despite a blade over 20cm long having stabbed deep enough that its end couldn’t be seen.

‘What the hell is going on…’

He glanced at the fast-passing hospital scenery and thought.

Above him were two people—emergency responders or doctors—with serious expressions.

‘This must be serious…’

Naturally.

A blade sharp enough to slice metal was lodged in his neck.

So deep the handle couldn’t even be seen.

It was a miracle he was alive and conscious.

At first, he’d thought maybe it wasn’t as bad as it seemed.

But when a helicopter arrived with medical personnel, all such thoughts vanished.

“Impending rupture! High risk!”

Kang-hyuk shouted from the rear of the stretcher.

The patient couldn’t understand the words.

But Jaewon and Kang-ryul did.

“Damn.”

“Increasing speed!”

They sprinted with the stretcher with everything they had.

It was obvious which vessel was at risk of rupturing.

Kang-ryul, who had seen that particular vessel rupture in the field before, tensed up.

‘This is only my third dispatch, but… this guy’s never been wrong.’

When he first heard about Kang-hyuk through Jung-heon, he’d assumed there was some exaggeration.

Back then, Jung-heon had been reassigned under bizarre circumstances.

People sometimes acted irrationally when emotional.

But now, seeing Kang-hyuk in person, the reality exceeded the rumors.

‘Well, Senior Ahn’s never been great at explaining things.’

In short, Baek Kang-hyuk’s diagnosis would be spot-on again today.

And that wasn’t exactly welcome news for someone trying to save lives.

“This way!”

Jang-mi, who had been alerted in advance and made full preparations, shouted from the forcibly propped open emergency entrance.

Behind her, a few Emergency Medicine residents and nurses were standing by.

There was an order from the Deputy Director for all severe trauma patients to be handled by the trauma team.

But the younger residents didn’t care.

Emergency Medicine wasn’t a department where seniority mattered much.

And if they were offering to help, no one was going to stop them.

Clatter.

The stretcher rolled inside with a harsh rattle.

The three men pushing it were sprinting at full speed, so they reached the ER in no time.

Now Kang-hyuk had to make a decision.

‘A laceration from a blade… the one I saw at the scene was shaped like an awl.’

Too narrow to be blindly cut into without precision.

Charging into surgery without knowing the full extent of the damage could cost precious time.

‘And we don’t even know how far the damage goes…’

He recalled the emergency on the helicopter.

The patient had suddenly begun wheezing.

At the same time, his oxygen saturation had plummeted.

Thankfully, Kang-hyuk had immediately punctured the thorax and performed a tracheotomy.

Otherwise, the person they’d brought back would have been a corpse.

‘At the very least, it reached the lung…’

A knife stabbed vertically into the neck touching the lung implied many dangerous possibilities.

None of them good.

Carotid rupture, esophageal rupture, airway damage, aortic rupture, cardiac rupture…

The list of worst-case scenarios was endless.

‘But the carotid rupture is imminent. There’s no time…’

Most wouldn’t notice.

But Kang-hyuk, with his hyper-sensitive eye, detected changes in blood flow.

The left carotid where the knife was lodged was swirling abnormally.

That meant something was obstructing it.

And that something could only be the blade.

“Professor, what should we do?”

Jaewon asked as soon as they entered the ER lobby.

To the left was the Severe Trauma Center, where the OR was.

To the right was the regular ER—with X-ray, CT, MRI, and all kinds of diagnostics.

“Hmm.”

With a short grunt, Kang-hyuk made his decision.

‘If it ruptures, I’ll stop it on the spot. Charging in blind would be suicide.’

There was risk.

But operating without imaging was madness.

“We do a CT first. Then we head to the OR. Tell Gyeongwon too!”

“Ah… yes, sir!”

Jaewon wanted to ask why it was always “Gyeongwon” and “Slave” for him.

But now wasn’t the time.

Too many eyes were watching.

Not just hospital staff, but patients and caregivers too.

Kang-hyuk was the most well-known doctor in the hospital—if not when he first arrived, then certainly now.

It would’ve been stranger if he didn’t draw attention walking in with a helicopter patient.

“CT room is standing by! I’ll head to the OR and finish setup! Anything else to prepare?”

Jang-mi shouted cheerfully as she sprinted toward the OR.

Having CT already prepped?

She was a dependable teammate.

But instead of praise, Kang-hyuk gave more instructions.

Compliments could come after saving the patient.

“Prepare for [thoracotomy] too! Lay everything out!”

(T/N: [Thoracotomy] is a surgical procedure involving an incision into the chest wall to access thoracic organs.)

“Thoracotomy… understood!”

To the untrained ear, that might’ve sounded odd—“Why open the chest when the injury’s in the neck?”

But Jang-mi didn’t bat an eye.

It wasn’t for nothing that Cardiothoracic Surgery also dealt with the esophagus.

The neck organs were tightly connected to the chest.

Injuries often crossed over between the two regions.

“Alright, we’re heading to the CT! Team Leader Kim, handle registration… and contact the guardian, please!”

“Yes, Professor. Leave it to me.”

Kang-ryul had already been briefed by Ahn Jung-heon long ago.

It was something he handled every time they deployed with Kang-hyuk.

He dashed toward admin, documents in hand.

“Emergency Medicine! Get him another IV! He’s only got one line!”

“Ah, yes!”

A nurse and one of the ER residents ran up.

Even as the stretcher kept rolling, they calmly inserted another IV and began testing—arterial blood gas, among others.

“Whew.”

“Huh?”

“He’s… conscious?”

One of the nurses who had just jabbed him with a needle looked surprised.

None of the helicopter patients Kang-hyuk had brought in had ever been conscious.

“Yeah. He’s still with us. So keep a firm hold.”

Kang-hyuk replied nonchalantly.

The patient thought, ‘Instead of saying that, shouldn’t you explain before jabbing people?’

But with a tracheotomy, he couldn’t speak.

“Shhh.”

No matter what he tried to say, only the sound of wind escaped.

“Ah, yes!”

The worrying part was that none of the nurses seemed surprised by Kang-hyuk’s behavior.

This was what set ER and ICU nurses apart from ward or outpatient nurses.

They were so focused on saving lives, they overlooked the smaller things.

Which wasn’t a bad thing.

It was the way it should be.

“Alright. Two IVs… [ABG] and venous samples are drawn, right?”

(T/N: [Arterial Blood Gas] is a test that measures oxygen, carbon dioxide, and pH levels in arterial blood to assess breathing, oxygenation, and acid-base balance.)

At the CT room entrance, Kang-hyuk asked the nurse and resident.

The resident nodded.

“Yes! I’ll report as soon as the ABG comes out. For the venous sample… should I send for full lab?”

“Yes. Send it fast!”

“Yes, Professor!”

Even though Kang-hyuk wasn’t his attending, the resident bowed politely and ran to the computer.

Meanwhile, Kang-hyuk helped the tech move the patient inside.

“He’s conscious, so we’ll wait outside for now.”

“Understood, Professor.”

“Should we set up the monitor so we can see from out here? Just in case something happens.”

Kang-hyuk, despite the patient being able to hear, didn’t stop saying alarming things.

It was partly due to his lack of bedside manner, but mostly because of urgency.

“Understood.”

“Shhh.”

“Ah, please stay still. We’re running a scan.”

“Shhh…”

‘What do you mean something might happen?’ the patient kept trying to ask.

But Kang-hyuk and Jaewon chose to interpret it however they liked.

That was the only way to keep moving.

And so, amid the patient’s anxiety, the CT scan began.

This wasn’t like a Brain CT that only took head images without contrast.

This scan used contrast dye and covered the neck and thoracic cavity.

“Let’s see… how bad is it…”

Kang-hyuk and Jaewon stared anxiously at the real-time images.

Praying it hadn’t reached the [mediastinum] or aorta, at least.

(T/N: [Mediastinum] is the central compartment of the thoracic cavity, located between the lungs. It contains the heart, major blood vessels, esophagus, trachea, and other vital structures.)

“Ah.”

Then Kang-hyuk let out a sharp hiss.

“W-What is it?”

“This… this contrast is leaking!”

“Huh? Ah!”

Just a moment ago, the carotid looked fine.

But now, white contrast dye was leaking out.

Contrast dye is injected to highlight blood vessels.

In other words, it flows with the blood.

So what does it mean when it leaks?

“Rupture! It’s a rupture!”