Chapter 129

‘Squelch, squelch.’

Kang-hyuk’s blood continued to flow through the line and into the child.

Though Kang-hyuk himself wore a calm expression,

The onlookers could hardly stay composed.

Especially Jaewon, who prided himself on being Kang-hyuk’s protégé.

“This… if it keeps going like this, we won’t even know how much blood has been transfused.”

“You realize you’ve been repeating that same line over and over, right? Are you hypoxic or something?”

While speaking, Kang-hyuk glanced toward the cockpit.

The altimeter showed an altitude of just over 2,000 feet.

Slightly lower oxygen than on the ground, yes—

But not enough to cause hypoxia symptoms.

“What… what are you talking about? Of course I’m worried.”

“If you’re that worried about me, then clamp the kid’s bleeding better. The more he bleeds and his pressure drops, the faster my blood’ll drain.”

“Ah.”

Come to think of it, that made sense.

All fluids flow from high to low pressure.

In other words, blood would move faster from Kang-hyuk to the child if the child’s blood pressure dropped further.

“Exactly. So get on with it.”

Kang-hyuk forced a faint smile as he looked at Jaewon.

An obvious attempt to seem fine.

But it was so awkward it was almost funny.

‘So he smiles when he’s pushing himself too hard, huh.’

Kang-ryul thought as he looked at the strangely gentle Kang-hyuk.

The Kang-hyuk he knew would’ve cursed Jaewon out by now.

But right now, he was only smiling.

Even for a strong and healthy adult, donating blood at this altitude was an extreme strain.

“Hmm… this part… I’ll suture for now.”

Meanwhile, Jaewon couldn’t focus on Kang-hyuk’s condition.

He was worried, yes—but the child’s injuries were far too urgent.

‘The blood loss increased with the rising blood pressure… it’s worse now.’

When he’d first examined the child, most of the bleeding had already occurred.

There was no active hemorrhage at the time.

But not anymore.

Blood was seeping out from multiple sites.

‘Shk.’

Following Kang-hyuk’s lead, Jaewon used thick sutures to aggressively close the gaping wounds.

The surrounding skin immediately blanched, cutting off the blood flow and halting the bleeding.

Leaving it like that for too long would cause necrosis from lack of circulation,

But as a temporary measure to stop the bleeding, it was highly effective.

“We’re almost there now.”

Just as he was finishing the suturing, the pilot’s voice came through.

Looking down, the full view of Hanguk University Hospital came into sight.

Kang-hyuk gazed longingly at the main building’s rooftop.

‘If only we could land there…’

In countries with well-developed trauma centers, hospitals usually had helipads adjacent to the ER or on the roof.

That way, patients could be moved straight to treatment upon landing.

But here?

“Landing at the tennis court.”

The helicopter began descending toward the only open space available.

At first, the pilot and Kang-ryul had found this absurd—but now they were used to it.

What could they do?

There wasn’t anywhere else.

‘Tat tat tat tat tat.’

But there was one thing they didn’t yet realize.

That they should be grateful to still be able to land here at all.

Soon, even that might not be possible.

– “Ugh, again with this crap.”

Nearby residents slammed their windows shut, muttering curses.

The noise was one thing, but the dust being blown into their homes by the rotor wash was unbearable.

The helicopter had taken off amidst swearing—and now it was landing to more of the same.

Meanwhile, Kang-hyuk removed the needle from his own arm and pressed down with an alcohol swab.

He capped the line that had been in the child’s vein.

Still, some of his blood had splattered onto the helicopter floor.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Kang-ryul looked between the bloody floor and Kang-hyuk.

There had to be limits, even for a self-sacrificing man.

Kang-hyuk had always been intense—but this was extreme.

“Hm? I’m fine. What, a little blood’s no big deal. Everyone’s donated before, right?”

Kang-ryul tilted his head slightly.

As a paramedic, he regularly donated blood.

So he knew that donating wasn’t usually dangerous.

‘But they always tell us not to go on calls or exercise afterward.’

Those rules existed for a reason.

To prevent complications.

“Ugh.”

By the time Kang-ryul snapped out of his thoughts, Kang-hyuk had already jumped out of the helicopter.

“What are you doing? Get the stretcher down!”

Kang-hyuk pointed at the still-bleeding, battered child.

In this situation, there was no room left for other thoughts.

Kang-ryul had thought Kang-hyuk was crazy—but even he was pushing himself hard too.

That someone from Gyeonggi Fire Department was leading transfers to Seoul’s Hanguk University Hospital—

It was something that could easily become a problem if someone made a fuss.

“Understood!”

But the kind of person willing to take that risk was someone driven by the desire to save lives.

“This way, this way!”

And Kang-hyuk wasn’t the only one.

Jaewon dashed off, pushing the stretcher toward the hospital.

Jang-mi was there too—having come out in advance to meet them.

“I’ve got five packs of O-type blood ready!”

She shouted while helping Jaewon push the stretcher.

Kang-hyuk nodded as he followed from the rear.

“Good work! But what are you doing here?”

He was looking at Gyeongwon now.

A mix of question and reprimand.

He should’ve been prepping the OR, not running out here.

“I didn’t have the child’s height or weight! You can’t dose anesthesia properly with age alone anymore—the variation’s too big in kids.”

“Oh.”

Kang-hyuk nodded, a bit impressed.

He was surprised not only that Gyeongwon had thought that far ahead,

But also that he himself had been too scattered to consider it.

‘Probably because I kept thinking about my dad…’

No matter how exceptional someone is—they’re still human.

And even Kang-hyuk had limits.

‘No. A doctor… must go beyond those limits.’

But in the field of life and death, those limits are rarely forgiven.

And Kang-hyuk had seen that reality more than most.

So he steeled himself again and kept running.

“First thing—we secure the airway. The kid still has weak spontaneous breathing and is maintaining oxygen saturation, but we can’t leave it like this.”

Meanwhile, Gyeongwon quickly inserted a small tube into the child’s throat.

Though the injuries were to the legs and waist, and spinal damage was unlikely,

He didn’t tilt the neck back.

Instead, he used the intubation endoscope that Kang-hyuk had practically extorted from Director Han Yoo-rim.

“This… this thing’s amazing.”

Even while running, Gyeongwon peeked into the endoscope after inserting the tube and couldn’t help but admire it.

With one ear, he listened through a stethoscope to confirm correct placement.

Kang-hyuk glanced at him with a smirk.

“The tool’s not amazing—you are.”

“Huh?”

“You intubated while running.”

“Oh…”

In any other department, Gyeongwon would’ve been overjoyed.

It was rare to receive such praise from a chief.

But the fact that the chief was Kang-hyuk made it more complicated.

So Gyeongwon squeezed the ambu bag and turned to Jaewon.

“Did something… happen?”

“Huh? Ah, not really. But he’s acting a little strange.”

“Right? I mean, this is the guy who does surgical incisions mid-run—why’s he so hung up on an intubation…”

Gyeongwon trailed off, and Jaewon sighed.

To him, this kid was a monster too.

But as a senior, he didn’t want to admit it openly.

Especially since he was already called “Slave.”

If he acknowledged him here, his authority would plummet.

‘Though honestly, I don’t think he’d gloat about it…’

Just thinking that already meant he’d lost.

So Jaewon feigned indifference and replied,

“Yeah. That’s not even a big deal…”

“Exactly. He’s acting weird…”

Kang-ryul joined in on the conversation.

“Right? Think it’s from the blood donation?”

“Blood donation?”

Still in the dark, Gyeongwon asked, and Kang-ryul pointed to Kang-hyuk’s left arm.

Normally he’d have it rolled up, showing his tattoo.

But now it was calmly covered by his dress shirt.

“Yeah. On the way here, he gave the kid his own blood.”

“Oh—so that’s why his blood pressure stabilized…”

Gyeongwon checked the child’s vitals with surprise.

Who knows how much had gone in over ten minutes, but the BP had stabilized in the 90s.

“Then no wonder he’s off.”

“Yeah. But…”

Gyeongwon still wasn’t sure if the change in Kang-hyuk was just physical.

Sure, emergency transfusions were hard.

But they’d faced worse.

Like stabilizing triple collision victims only to have quintuple collision victims arrive.

Or having a patient fall from a building right after an all-nighter surgery.

‘No way this is harder than those days…’

But he couldn’t find an answer.

Kang-hyuk wasn’t saying a word.

And by now, the stretcher had entered the ER through the rough pavement.

There was no time for idle thoughts anymore.

“Professor, are we going straight in?”

Jang-mi shouted at the fork in the hallway.

Kang-hyuk gave a silent nod.

“Okay, to the OR!”

“Just in case, get the ultrasound too.”

“Ultrasound… got it! I’ll request it!”

Jang-mi shouted back as she pulled the stretcher toward the operating room.

Inside, new nurses and others from different departments moved frantically.

An 8-year-old hit by a forklift and on the brink of death—

If things ‘weren’t’ busy, that would be strange.

‘Clack.’

The stretcher carrying the child burst into the room.

Jang-mi immediately turned to the new nurse.

“Are we ready?”

“Y-yes! Everything you requested is set!”

“Good. I’m scrubbing in. You go get the portable ultrasound!”

“Ultrasound… yes, understood!”

She was still a rookie for a reason.

She didn’t know where the ultrasound was or how to borrow it.

But she knew one thing:

This was the Severe Trauma Center.

And everyone here was busy.

“Professor! He’s under anesthesia!”

Gyeongwon shouted as he administered the gas.

Kang-hyuk, tearing off his dress shirt, replied,

“Start prepping! I’ll scrub in now!”