Chapter 142

Screech.

The taxi pulled up in front of Incheon Airport.

Kang-hyuk immediately handed his card to the driver.

“Receipt, please.”

“Ah… yes.”

It was the same man who had been muttering all the way about killing and saving lives.

The driver eventually realized that none of those threats were aimed at him—

Still, it had been nerve-wracking.

Jaewon, Jang-mi, and Gyeongwon had already gotten out and were waiting for him.

“Do you usually keep receipts?”

Jaewon asked as Kang-hyuk carefully tucked the receipt away while getting out.

Kang-hyuk replied casually.

“I’ll need to file a claim later. It’s national work, after all.”

“Come on, it’s just a few bucks…”

“A few bucks? Punk, it’s over fifty thousand won. This guy thinks money doesn’t count unless it’s his own.”

“But Professor, it’s not like you ever use the money you get anyway.”

Jaewon recalled the untouched savings that had been piling up in Kang-hyuk’s account these past few months.

Sleeping at the hospital, eating at the hospital—there had been no expenses.

It was like going back to his intern and resident days.

If Jaewon was in such a situation, Kang-hyuk, who had an even higher salary but less time to spend it, must be worse.

“Money isn’t good because you use it. It’s good just to have it.”

Kang-hyuk flicked Jaewon’s forehead with the corner of the card before heading into the airport.

“Ouch…”

Oddly, it hurt far more than it should have.

Jaewon didn’t know that Kang-hyuk could see where sensory nerves were most densely packed, striking the tender spot without fail.

To him, it just felt like, ‘Even his hands are as vicious as his temper.’

“Ah, Professor Baek. We should’ve arranged a car for you. Our apologies.”

Two men in black suits approached as soon as they entered the airport.

Though he wasn’t wearing a name tag, they recognized Baek Kang-hyuk immediately.

Partly because of his reputation—

But more because he was simply hard to miss.

A head taller than most, broad-shouldered yet with a handsome face—he stood out.

“Yeah, right. I had to spend my own money on a taxi.”

Another man would’ve waved it off politely.

Not Kang-hyuk.

He pulled out the receipt he’d neatly stored earlier and shoved it into the official’s hand.

“My account number’s on the back. Send it later.”

“Ah… yes.”

The official froze.

Of all things, he hadn’t expected the very first step in this mission of saving a life to involve reimbursing a taxi fare.

“What are you standing there for? We need to hurry. Isn’t boarding already in process?”

Kang-hyuk, on the other hand, hadn’t lost focus for a second.

He patted the official’s shoulder and pointed to the large digital clock hanging in the airport.

It had already been an hour and a half since Minister Choi Pil-du reversed course and asked him to go.

The plane would leave in thirty minutes.

The official finally snapped back to attention and nodded.

“This way, through the Foreign Ministry passage. Since, well…”

He glanced over at Kang-hyuk’s party.

It wasn’t a vacation, but they were traveling far.

And yet, their luggage was minimal—barely enough for even a change of clothes.

‘Well… all the better if they’re in a rush.’

Clothing was their own concern.

As long as they did their jobs, that was enough.

“Since you don’t have much baggage, we can go straight through.”

“Straight through? Fine, let’s go.”

Kang-hyuk nodded, following the official.

The private passage was tucked away, far from the bustling crowd.

On the other end, an airline employee was waiting.

Checks were performed, but only perfunctorily, and they were waved through.

“We’ll help you with boarding.”

The airline staff led them toward the plane.

“Hm… This isn’t our national carrier, is it?”

After a while, Kang-hyuk asked the flight attendant.

It wasn’t the familiar uniform.

She smiled politely.

“There aren’t that many flights to Dubai. The Foreign Ministry chose the fastest one, which happened to be our airline.”

“Oh… Emirates, huh? First time for me.”

He muttered as they reached the boarding gate.

The attendant guided them toward first class.

Kang-hyuk’s eyes widened.

“Hm?”

“There weren’t many tickets left… so first class was all we could book.”

This time it was the official who explained.

Normally, they would have been in economy, but with no seats available, they’d been placed in first class.

Some might have taken offense at being “forced” into it.

Kang-hyuk chose instead to focus on the fortune before him.

“Not bad. Didn’t think I’d ever ride first class.”

“Th-the budget’s way over. You have to succeed.”

“Budget? I don’t care about budgets.”

This was the man who’d never once flinched at the hospital’s endless deficit reports.

Did anyone really think a bit of overspending government funds would faze him?

“B-but still…”

The official looked flustered at Kang-hyuk’s utterly unorthodox response.

Kang-hyuk met his gaze, his expression suddenly more serious.

“First class, economy, or on foot—Captain Lee Hyun-jong will live. Don’t worry.”

“Ah… that’s… a relief.”

“Relief? Whatever. Anyway, where’s our seat? Why’s this corridor so long?”

They’d been walking down the narrow passage for some time, yet no seats appeared.

The attendant smiled, pressed what looked like a wall—

Creak.

A door swung open.

“Huh?”

Kang-hyuk let out a rare, stunned sound.

Behind him, Jaewon almost regretted he wasn’t recording.

‘This is a once-in-a-lifetime sight…’

But he, too, was too shocked to dwell on it.

Their first-class seat wasn’t just a seat.

It was a private room.

“This will be your place, Professor.”

“This room?”

Kang-hyuk asked, almost respectfully.

The attendant nodded cheerfully.

“Yes. Please rest inside. Normally this plane doesn’t run the Incheon–Dubai route, but just this once, it did.”

“Well, damn…”

He stepped inside and couldn’t help but marvel.

‘Sad to admit… but it’s nicer than my on-call room.’

He thought of the cramped space he shared with Jaewon.

And come May, when a new slave—Lee Kang-haeng—joined, it would be three to a room.

Each man’s share of space wouldn’t even match this cabin.

“Please enjoy your flight. The rest of you, this way.”

“Ah, right. Hey, you better study what I gave you. No, wait. Can we use USBs here?”

Even now, Kang-hyuk worried his team might waste time.

Had this been a leisure trip, he wouldn’t have cared.

But not even first class could distract from the life waiting on the line.

“Ah… yes. The system supports it. You can view what you want.”

“Perfect. Slave, you watch this. Gyeongwon, this one. Jang-mi, this one.”

Relieved, Kang-hyuk handed each of them a USB.

They contained surgical and ICU videos he’d recorded in Syria—

Some published as papers, others archived as Black Waters training material.

Doctors of his caliber were rare not only in Korea, but worldwide.

“Yes, Professor.”

Gyeongwon, ever the eager yes-man, accepted first.

“Might as well—ow! Okay, okay, Professor, I’ll watch it.”

Jaewon grumbled until a kick to the shin shut him up.

Jang-mi, witnessing it, wisely took hers without complaint.

“Might as well. Nothing else to do on the way.”

So each of them took their USBs and left for their seats.

Click.

The door closed. Kang-hyuk was alone.

“Hmm…”

He exhaled something between a sigh and a groan as he sat down.

Unlike ordinary first class where the seat turned into a bed, here the chair and bed were separate.

‘Crazy…’

Luxury enough to make him curse.

A flying machine with facilities like this.

How much must it cost for a single trip?

‘Well… good. This is good.’

The journey to Dubai was long—

Familiar as the name was, the distance was vast.

Even direct, it would take nearly ten hours.

‘If my strength runs out, it’ll be a disaster.’

He was only just recovering from the aftereffects of emergency blood donation.

If he exhausted himself en route, he might arrive more a burden than a help.

Then the patient would die, and the hospital’s worst fears—criticism on top of failure—would come true.

‘Maybe God really does want Captain Lee Hyun-jong saved.’

How else could an ordinary doctor end up in a seat like this?

How else could others’ cancellations place him and his team here?

It didn’t feel like coincidence.

It felt like something greater was urging him: Save Lee Hyun-jong.

‘Then I can’t just sit idle.’

Kang-hyuk pulled up cases far more difficult than the ones he’d assigned his students—

The kind that had made even him feel the shadow of failure.