Chapter 126

It had already been three days since Kang-hyuk, Jaewon, and Jang-mi sent off the patient.

There wasn’t really a need to, but KODA was giving them brief daily updates on each of the transplant recipients’ conditions.

Fortunately, all the patients were recovering without any issues.

“How are you feeling?”

And it wasn’t just them—another patient was recovering at a terrifying speed.

The one who had been injured in the neck and chest by the falling blade at the factory was the same.

He had already regained full spontaneous breathing, and the tracheostomy had been closed.

“Yes, I’m doing well.”

His voice was just slightly hoarse.

It seemed the blade that pierced near the aortic arch had touched the [recurrent laryngeal nerve] that loops around the aortic arch.
(T/N: The recurrent laryngeal nerve controls the vocal cords and is susceptible to damage near the aortic arch, which can affect voice and breathing.)

There was paralysis in his left vocal cord.

“Your voice still sounds hoarse. Are you having trouble with food going down the wrong pipe?”

“Sorry? Ah, no, I’m okay.”

As Kang-hyuk listened to the patient, he turned to Jang-mi.

The patient’s words were of course important during assessment.

But sometimes the medical staff who closely monitored the patient could provide even more important information.

Especially in the ICU, that was even more true.

“He coughs now and then at night, but his oxygen saturation hasn’t dropped.”

“Looks like there’s a bit of leakage… Hmm.”

Kang-hyuk recalled the patient’s vocal cords as confirmed earlier in the ENT consultation.

The paralysis of the left vocal cord was so pronounced that even a layperson could see it.

The patient had been informed, but didn’t seem to mind too much.

He had, after all, come back from the brink of death.

He probably thought, ‘It’s just a voice.’

But Kang-hyuk saw it a bit differently.

‘Of all things, the left vocal cord isn’t positioned quite in the center.’

Because of that, even if the right vocal cord moved to the center, the contact area was small, which resulted in a weak voice.

On top of that, the gap could cause symptoms of aspiration.

The patient was still young, so for now it only led to mild coughing.

But with age, it could develop into [aspiration pneumonia].
(T/N: Aspiration pneumonia is a lung infection that occurs when food or liquid is inhaled into the lungs, often due to difficulty swallowing or impaired vocal cord function.)

“For now… let’s keep watching it. If it doesn’t improve, we’ll either refer him back to ENT or I’ll treat it myself. I should’ve cleaned it up properly the first time.”

“No, no. Please don’t say that. I’m alive thanks to you, professor.”

“I only saved you because I could.”

“Aww, come on, don’t say that…”

“Anyway, once you’re moved to the general ward, start doing some light exercise. It’ll help your recovery.”

“Yes, yes. Got it.”

The patient nodded repeatedly.

For someone who had undergone major surgery just three days ago, he looked almost too cheerful.

Aside from some pain, there were hardly any restrictions in his movement.

Jaewon felt Kang-hyuk’s teachings every time he saw this sort of thing.

‘People always say someone’s a great surgeon, but… this is on another level.’

Jaewon had graduated from one of Korea’s top universities and trained at what was considered the best hospital.

Sure, Hanguk University Hospital had poached many talented young professors from Chilseong Hospital.

Even so, he had a sense of pride that Hanguk University Hospital was still the best in the country.

‘But this is different.’

Why do people say a good surgery leads to a good prognosis?

Because the influence of a surgery didn’t end with clean removal and suturing of the affected area.

It also had a huge impact on the patient’s recovery.

Just look at this patient—if someone else had done the surgery, he might have died on the spot or still be unconscious.

But now?

He was going to the bathroom on his own.

‘That speeds up recovery even more.’

While Jaewon was deep in thought, Kang-hyuk popped into the on-call room for a moment and came back out.

He had taken off his gown and was now wearing a black suit.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

Because of his broad frame—and especially because Jaewon and Jang-mi knew his personality—he looked exactly like a gangster.

“What do you think I’m doing? Don’t you guys have any black clothes?”

Kang-hyuk shook his head at the two of them.

Even his necktie was black.

And in the ICU, of all places.

Jang-mi walked over with a displeased expression.

“What are you doing, seriously?”

“What do you mean? You don’t know what day it is today?”

“Today…?”

Jang-mi tilted her head and looked at the calendar.

It was Saturday.

For most people, it was a golden weekend day off.

But for the Severe Trauma Team, it was just another working day—nothing special.

‘Clack.’

Just then, the ICU door opened and another ‘crow’ entered.

It was Gyeongwon.

“Oh, professor. You’re not late.”

“Good timing. Let’s wait for these two to change.”

“What are you talking about…?”

Jang-mi looked at Kang-hyuk and Gyeongwon with a baffled expression.

Meanwhile, Jaewon, looking panicked, bolted into the on-call room.

“You didn’t hear from the Slave? I told you to be ready. It’s the funeral today.”

“Funeral? Who die—ah.”

Jang-mi looked like she didn’t care much—after all, death wasn’t unusual around here—but then she nodded.

She recalled the noble soul who had saved five lives not long ago.

And her eyes narrowed.

“I wasn’t told. And my clothes are way… way too cheerful…”

“What are you wearing? Is it ‘cause it’s March?”

Kang-hyuk looked out the window where spring was clearly on the rise.

The plum blossoms were in full bloom—the ones Jaewon insisted were cherry blossoms until Kang-hyuk smacked him on the back of the head.

Jang-mi answered with a dying voice.

“A… floral dress…”

“A dress? Isn’t that cold?”

“I’ve been in the hospital nonstop. I don’t know what the weather’s like.”

“Right. That’s fair.”

Kang-hyuk recalled going outside in a padded jacket just yesterday and almost dying from the heat.

He was always flying in helicopters, so he never had a sense of the actual weather.

“Still, we can’t not go. It’s about respect.”

“Wouldn’t going in a floral dress be more disrespectful…?”

“No. Honestly, you were the one who spent the most time with the patient. Before they passed.”

“Mmh.”

Anyone who had been hospitalized would know.

You barely saw the doctor’s face.

The medical staff you interacted with the most were the nurses.

ICU wasn’t all that different.

Sure, the ICU doctors made rounds, and so did Kang-hyuk, since it was his department.

But in terms of sheer time spent, Jang-mi had been with the patient the most.

“Okay. But seriously, my outfit is…”

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Just go change quickly.”

“Got it. We’re going to the funeral hall, right?”

“Of course. We can’t go far.”

Everyone was on duty.

If they had to fly out by helicopter, they’d contact the rescue command and hand off the patient.

But they couldn’t do that just for attending a funeral.

“Yes, professor.”

Jang-mi looked slightly relieved as she headed to the locker room.

In the meantime, Jaewon came out wearing a wrinkled suit.

His hair hadn’t been cut in ages, and the crumpled suit made him look absolutely miserable.

One of the patients nearly died laughing.

“Cough, cough. God, this is killing me. Cough.”

He didn’t seem to realize he could literally die from laughing.

“This guy looks like he’s suffering more than anyone else in the world.”

Kang-hyuk shook his head in disapproval.

“No, professor, seriously, you’re the weird one. Is that a wig? Your hair doesn’t grow.”

Jaewon reached up and stroked Kang-hyuk’s sideburns.

Gyeongwon flinched.

He was pretty sure Jaewon was about to get hit.

‘Smack.’

Naturally, Jaewon ended up clutching the back of his head, crouched on the floor.

With a single blow, Kang-hyuk had taken down a full-grown adult.

Looking down at him, he added,

“Bald? I shave it every morning when I shave my face.”

“I didn’t say you were—”

“Shut it.”

Jaewon gave Kang-hyuk a suspicious look, knowing how sensitive he was about baldness.

“You want me to pop your eyes out?”

“N-no.”

Faced with physical threats, he backed down immediately.

As Jaewon reconsidered whether he should quit the gym, Jang-mi came out.

She looked very different from her usual scrubs or workout clothes.

Her bright and lively appearance almost made one forget they were in the ICU.

“Oh.”

“Slave, shut your mouth and look. That kind of reaction is rude.”

“I-I wasn’t saying anything…”

“Don’t mess with me. My eyesight is excellent.”

“I—sorry.”

Even as he spoke, Jaewon couldn’t take his eyes off her.

His gaze wasn’t creepy—there was something innocent about it.

‘Was this guy a virgin…?’

As Kang-hyuk jumped to conclusions about Jaewon, Jang-mi approached in small steps.

“How do I look? I don’t seem too disrespectful, right?”

With furrowed brows and a worried expression, she asked.

“No. You look fine. Actually…” (T/N: Damn! I am curious how she looks now! Even Kang-hyuk acknowledged her appearance.)

He turned to Jaewon.

Jaewon looked like an absolute mess.

“Maybe you should stay here?”

If Kang-hyuk were anyone else, he might have still brought him along.

But this was Kang-hyuk.

“No. I’m the one who convinced the donor. I should go.”

And this was Jaewon.

He even dared to throw complaints at Kang-hyuk.

“This guy… never mind. Let’s go.”

“Yes.”

So Kang-hyuk led the rest of the team to the funeral hall.

It would’ve been convenient if it were connected directly to the hospital—easier for the mortuary team and for moving around.

But to the public eye, that might seem unpleasant.

So the funeral hall was outside the hospital, a ten-minute walk away.

“Whoa, Baek Kang-hyuk. You look good in a suit.”

“Who’s the bum next to him?”

Kang-hyuk looked good in anything.

He had such a strong presence that he naturally drew attention.

And he was the most famous person in the entire hospital.

Naturally, passersby took notice.

“That… is that the Slave?”

“Oh, right. The Slave.”

Kang-hyuk didn’t care what people said about him.

As long as he could hold a scalpel and save lives, that’s all that mattered.

But Jaewon was different.

“Slave, seriously…”

He was devastated by one word.

“Who’s the one in the dress?”

“Dunno.”

“Isn’t she the gangster? Her face looks familiar…”

“Gangster? Come on.” (T/N: HAHHAHAHA. I love how their nicknames are stuck even to the other staff not just Kang-hyuk. lol)

Some even recognized Jang-mi.

Her face had been on TV several times during the media frenzy.

Being called a gangster made her face go beet red.

It was a different story hearing that from strangers instead of Kang-hyuk.

“This won’t do.”

“What won’t?”

“Let’s change my nickname. Just call me by name.”

“We have the same surname. It’s confusing.”

“Why’d it have to be Baek? That’s so rare.” (T/N: Hmm, is it really Baek Jang-mi? I thought it was Cheon Jang-mi? Well, this is what’s in the raw but I may have to investigate this further. But next time.)

“What do you want to be called then?”

“Hmm…”

Jang-mi kept thinking as they walked.

She was still thinking by the time they arrived at the funeral hall.

“Hey, think about it later. Let’s go in first.”

“Oh, right.”

The funeral hall was fairly quiet.

There didn’t seem to be many visitors.

A few people from the Korea Organ and Tissue Donation Agency were present.

They were helping the lone guardian with the funeral arrangements.

“There they are.”

Kang-hyuk pointed to the guardian at the memorial altar and quickly headed inside.

He first laid a chrysanthemum to pay his respects.

‘Thank you.’

Then, he approached the guardian and offered his condolences.

“Are you holding up okay?”

“I… I don’t know. It’s all a blur.”

Thankfully, the guardian seemed to be holding strong.

Knowing the transplant recipients were doing well seemed to be giving them strength.

“That’s good. Hm?”

Just then, Kang-hyuk’s phone rang.

It was the emergency room.