Chapter 144

“Beginning anesthesia.”

Gyeongwon looked down at Captain Lee Hyun-jong, who had been moved with difficulty from the ICU bed onto the operating table.

His face was so swollen it was impossible to even guess his age.

‘His records said he was originally sixty-eight kilos.’

Gyeongwon recalled the chart he had checked only moments ago.

Now he weighed seventy-two.

That meant they had pumped fluid into him to try and compensate for the blood loss.

And that fluid wasn’t just in the vessels—it had seeped into the tissues.

Into places like the lungs.

Grrrk.

Listening to the breath sounds with his stethoscope, Gyeongwon shook his head.

If this had been before his time in the Severe Trauma Center—

He would have declared anesthesia impossible.

Too great a risk the patient wouldn’t wake, or that another infection would strike.

But after working under Baek Kang-hyuk, he had learned—

There were times when surgery simply had to come first.

“Connecting now.”

Without hesitation, he attached the endotracheal tube already in place to the anesthesia machine.

What had been ventilated manually during transfer was now taken over by the device.

Whoosh, whoosh.

Captain Lee’s chest rose and fell gently.

Slower than usual surgery cases, almost subdued.

“Good.”

Kang-hyuk nodded at the displayed tidal volume.

Gyeongwon wasn’t flooding the lungs at once, but splitting gas delivery into smaller, repeated breaths.

It risked atelectasis—collapsed sections of lung—but in this case, overexpansion of fluid-filled lungs could be catastrophic.

“Alright, let’s move. First… sterilize.”

Kang-hyuk turned his attention away from anesthesia.

As always, Gyeongwon was meeting his expectations perfectly.

Such a colleague was rare.

It was fortune—not just for him, but for the entire Severe Trauma Center.

“Yes, Professor. But… how far will you go today?”

Jaewon, holding the Betadine handed to him by Jang-mi, asked hesitantly.

His face showed unease.

Operating on everything at once would be ideal, but the human body wasn’t built for that.

There was a reason they taught first, second, even third stages of surgery.

“How far? Everywhere.”

Kang-hyuk’s answer flipped Jaewon’s expectations.

If anyone else had said it, he’d call them insane.

But this was Kang-hyuk.

‘Wait… is he ending it all today? That’s crazy—no, it’s him… but still, without blood?’

His face showed his turmoil.

Kang-hyuk shook his head with disdain.

“Everywhere, yes. But not finishing everything. What were you thinking? Didn’t you study on the way? You just goof off?”

“N-no, sir.”

“Then why think something so stupid?”

“I just…”

He wanted to say, ‘Because you made it sound that way.’

But with that scalpel gleaming in Kang-hyuk’s hand, he swallowed it.

“Sorry, Professor.”

While Jaewon bowed his head to survive, Kang-hyuk began carefully sterilizing all of Captain Lee’s wounds with Betadine.

Drip.

The injuries were so bad that even cleaning was difficult.

A careless wipe could worsen them.

He didn’t forget that bullets still lay buried inside.

“Thorough on the incision sites. The rest—just let the antiseptic touch.”

“Ah… yes. The infection’s already severe there…”

“Exactly. Infection control comes first today.”

He scrubbed at a thigh so red and swollen it looked like car seat leather rather than flesh.

Just cutting into it could gush blood.

At Hanguk University Hospital, that wouldn’t matter—

In Korea, patients rarely died for lack of transfusion.

Budgets suffered, but not patients.

‘But here… even soldiers’ blood isn’t being used.’

Korea wasn’t overflowing with donors either, but the army kept the supply stable.

An institution despised by many—but vital, too.

He tightened his grip on the scalpel, oddly grateful.

Captain Lee, practically bathed in Betadine, lay before him.

“We’ll start here.”

He pointed to the right arm.

Two gunshot wounds—one with a humerus fracture, the bullet lodged in bone.

“Nngh…”

Jaewon groaned instinctively.

Instead of scolding, Kang-hyuk draped the other wounds.

There was no need to expose more.

Heat lost, fluids lost—pointless risks.

“Quit mumbling and hold.”

“Yes, but… the blood…”

“One pack.”

“You have one? I was told—”

Hospital staff had sworn none was left for him.

Said so right after the last two packs had been used.

“See that bag out there? Fresh as can be.”

Kang-hyuk jerked his chin toward the door.

A government official stood there, looking none too pleased.

“No way…”

“What’s with that look? Never donated blood?”

“I… I have, but—”

Never under force. Never like this.

“Same thing.”

Common sense never applied to Kang-hyuk.

Jaewon resigned himself.

‘Well… blood’s blood, isn’t it.’

Schlick.

While he faltered, Kang-hyuk cut into the wound with his scalpel.

The one with the bullet still inside.

“Wipe.”

Blood gushed immediately, pus stench rising.

“Ugh. Yes, sir.”

The infection wasn’t localized—it had spread through the tissue.

“Necrotizing fasciitis… as expected.”

“Then… what do we do?”

Even in top-tier hospitals, mortality approached fifty percent.

And this man had multiple such wounds.

“We do what we can. Just hold.”

“Yes.”

“Not so hard! The tissue’s friable—it’ll tear!”

“Y-yes, I’ll be careful.”

“Don’t just say it. Do it right. Like me.”

“Ah… yes.”

Why boast even now?

But Kang-hyuk proved it wasn’t just boasting.

“Here it is.”

With a few precise cuts, he located the bullet.

And with forceps, lifted it free—

Without damaging the surrounding tissue.

Clink.

The bullet landed in a tray.

“What’s with that look?”

Kang-hyuk asked as Jaewon stared, awestruck.

He couldn’t admit, ‘I almost fell for you, Professor.’

So he just shook his head.

“N-no, nothing.”

“You look like some lovesick fool. Disgusting.”

“That’s harsh…”

“Shut up and irrigate. The cavity where the bullet was—see?”

“Ah—yes!”

Pus poured yellow, foul, overwhelming.

The smell of death itself.

Ssshhhhh.

Thanks to Jang-mi’s foresight, saline was ready.

Jaewon flushed the wound, washing away the pus.

Each rinse cleared more.

The swelling eased, though blood loss mounted.

Still, the improvement was clear.

“Wow… it really does look better.”

“Controlling infection is everything.”

“True.”

Not that it was easy.

Anyone else would’ve damaged more tissue just getting the bullet out.

“But what about the bone? Fix it now?”

“Are you insane?”

As always, the wrong answer earned scorn.

Jaewon no longer flinched.

He’d been cursed at too many times already.

Only something truly novel would sting now.

“This is the nastiest kind of open fracture. Germs are packed in the gap. You want to align it now? Planning to kill him? You with Boko Haram? Signed up behind my back?”

“No—! I don’t even know their language!”

“Then forget it. But we can’t leave it either. Come here.”

“What, no hitting, please—”

“Hitting? Idiot. Hold his shoulder. I’ll set it roughly.”

“Oh…”

Jaewon realized the beckoning finger wasn’t a threat.

Relieved—too quickly.

“You weakling! Grip it firm!”

“I-I’m trying!”

“This is trying?”

“Any harder and I’ll crap myself!”

“Then crap! Better to shit and set the bone than leave it loose!”

“I’m still human—”

“Shut up!”