Chapter 148

“No… you’re just going to walk into a government meeting like that?”

Still bent over, Jaewon asked Kang-hyuk as he passed by.

“It’s not like I’m planning a terror attack. I’m just going into the meeting.”

“That’s…”

The words ‘Isn’t walking into a meeting uninvited basically terrorism?’ lingered on Jaewon’s tongue.

But he couldn’t bring himself to say it.

He had been hunched over too long; all the pain he’d ignored while focused on disinfecting suddenly came crashing down.

“Ugh.”

So all that came out was a groan.

“What the hell.”

Kang-hyuk gave him a look of disdain, then walked out of the ICU.

“Seriously, what was that about?”

Even Jang-mi reacted the same way.

He had said something strange enough to deserve it.

“I’m in pain.”

He blurted out anything, hoping to smooth it over.

But of course, it didn’t help.

It only backfired.

“You’re really in pain? What’s wrong with you?”

She pressed the back of her hand against his forehead.

Her face practically spelled out: ‘Has he lost it?’

“What? What did I do? Why are you like this all of a sudden?”

Jaewon pulled his head back, embarrassed.

But there was a reason Jang-mi was nicknamed Gangster.

It was almost as if Kang-hyuk had a knack for piercing to the essence of people when he gave nicknames.

“Hold still.”

“Uh, hey. I can’t breathe.”

Before he knew it, she had him in a headlock.

Then she practically jammed a thermometer into his ear.

It felt like being manhandled, but strangely not unpleasant.

‘What the hell is going on?’

Jaewon’s face flushed red in confusion and embarrassment.

Meanwhile, Jang-mi stayed utterly calm.

“Strange. No fever.”

She frowned at the reading of 36.4°C, then glanced at Jaewon’s red face in surprise.

“Why are you like this? You must really be sick.”

“No, I—”

“Should I check your forehead? This might be inaccurate.”

Ear thermometers were convenient and fairly accurate.

But they weren’t the absolute standard.

“No. No, don’t. Rectal—”

“Yes, yes. Wait, what? Are you insane?”

The word ‘rectal’ slipped out, sounding oddly natural to him, and he nodded before realizing what she was about to do.

“Stay still. You’re a grown man, what’s there to be embarrassed about?”

“Exactly because I’m grown, it’s embarrassing!”

“This is an exam. Do you act like this at the hospital too?”

“At the hospital, no one pulls down your pants!”

Jaewon yanked desperately at his scrubs as they slipped down.

He hadn’t brought many clothes, so wearing scrubs was his mistake.

The more he pulled, the more they slid.

He was just barely saving his underwear.

Jang-mi smacked him on the back.

“You came from Anus, didn’t you? You pulled patients’ pants down all the time!”

“No, that’s…”

He had no immediate rebuttal.

Of course, with clear thinking, he’d have said it was different.

Examining hemorrhoid patients’ rectums was one thing; checking fevers that way was something else entirely.

As they struggled over his waistband, someone entered.

Thankfully, it wasn’t local doctors or other staff.

It was Gyeongwon.

“Perfect timing, senior.”

He had clearly been watching a while, smirking as he spoke.

From a distance, it probably sounded like a man and woman flirting.

That’s how badly it looked.

“No! It’s not like that!”

“It’s not like that! At all!”

But then why…

Jaewon waved his hands frantically, but Jang-mi waved hers even more.

It stung a little.

Still, the Severe Trauma Team didn’t care about teammates’ small emotional shifts.

Not just because of Kang-hyuk, but because that’s how they all were.

“Anyway… Professor Baek said to watch the patient while he’s at the meeting. With you here, I doubt there’ll be any issues.”

Gyeongwon got straight to the point.

Jaewon didn’t need anything else from him anyway.

He was just glad to escape Jang-mi’s grip alive.

“R-right.”

“But… what’s he going to say at that meeting?”

“Hm…”

Jaewon closed his eyes.

Memories of Kang-hyuk’s past ‘conversations’ with powerful people came to mind.

Whether to call them conversations or tantrums was debatable.

“Sigh.”

The more he thought about it, the more his head hurt.

The chances of Kang-hyuk speaking politely seemed slim.

So he gave up thinking.

And also…

“You’ve got a headache? I should check your temperature again.”

“Stop it already!”

Jang-mi lunged at him again.

While Jaewon was under siege, Kang-hyuk was making someone else suffer.

“No, you can’t enter without authorization!”

An employee blocked him in front of the consulate meeting room.

No one knew how he even got there.

Even being Korean didn’t grant free entry.

“I’m treating the patient. And I don’t know the transfer plan? How does that make sense?”

Kang-hyuk asked calmly, even as he pushed the man back with his whole body.

“I-I understand, but you weren’t invited to this meeting.”

“They must not have known I was here. If they knew, they’d have called me.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I know Captain Lee Hyun-jong’s wounds and condition best. Don’t you think the VIP would want to know? Bet he asks about it every day.”

“Uh… well…”

VIP meant the president.

And yes, the president did want updates on Lee Hyun-jong.

Every day, foreign ministry staff were sweating over it.

Given the political climate, it was inevitable.

All the media was buzzing endlessly about Captain Lee Hyun-jong, and the whole nation’s attention was on him.

A rare hero in the barren 21st century.

If he died, it would instantly be tied to the president’s incompetence.

“Wait here a moment.”

“See? You ended up going in anyway.”

Kang-hyuk grinned as the employee rushed inside.

A normal man would have waited.

But not Kang-hyuk.

He just followed him in.

“Professor Baek Kang-hyuk is requesting to attend. What should we—”

By the time the employee asked, Kang-hyuk was already inside.

“Him?”

“Huh?”

The man turned with a look that said, ‘Has the consul lost it?’—then screamed.

“Why are you already in here?!”

“I was coming in anyway.”

Kang-hyuk patted the man’s shoulder and sat down as if it were his seat all along.

So naturally, it felt almost rude that no one had saved him a place earlier.

“Well, well.”

The consul chuckled, then waved his hand.

“Since we have to talk about the patient anyway… might as well let him join.”

“Let’s. When does it start?”

Kang-hyuk didn’t bother thanking anyone.

Given how badly the transfer was being delayed, they hardly deserved gratitude.

“It’ll start now. Let’s connect.”

Three monitors lit up.

On one was a familiar face: Minister Choi Pil-du.

On another, the foreign minister.

And on the third, the Blue House spokesperson.

It was a massive meeting.

“Thank you for your hard work.”

As always, the meeting began with formal pleasantries.

Kang-hyuk shook his head with a smirk.

The medical team doing the real work was ignored, while they praised each other.

It was laughable.

“Let’s get to the point.”

At least Minister Choi, being a doctor himself, sensed Kang-hyuk’s mood.

“Shall we?”

Thanks to him, they went straight to the matter of transferring Captain Lee Hyun-jong.

“Let’s see the patient’s condition…”

Choi Pil-du was well-versed in the updates.

Every morning, he received progress notes, nursing records, and vital signs.

“Yes, he must be transferred as soon as possible. He cannot be treated in a region without transfusion capability.”

It was nearly identical to what Kang-hyuk had wanted to say.

“So we are considering possible transfer options, but…”

The foreign minister picked up the thread, trailing off ominously.

That meant bad news.

“First, the national airline is willing to remove seats for transport. But the cost and time are excessive.”

“How much?”

“About two weeks. And the cost… around 500 million won.”

“500 million? Are they insane?”

“That’s how much long-haul flights cost, with fuel, maintenance, and so on.”

“Damn…”

The ministers sighed back and forth.

They had considered more than one option, but none were realistic.

“Air Force transport planes can’t handle the weather and are too cramped for the patient.”

“So there’s no other way?”

“Using the national airline is most realistic, but the two weeks… that’s the issue.”

In two weeks, Captain Lee Hyun-jong would be dead.

Kang-hyuk finally spoke, his voice sharp.

“Are you planning to transport a corpse instead of a patient?”

The foreign minister flinched at the words.

“There’s nothing we can do. No other options.”

“Nothing you can do? Are you telling me the Republic of Korea doesn’t even have one air ambulance?”

“Air ambulance? What’s that?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”