Chapter 164

               

“Uhh…”

The first to speak among those seated was, unsurprisingly, Director Choi Jo-eun.

Being the director of the most prestigious hospital in Korea meant that, whether he liked it or not, he had to maintain an expansive network.

More importantly, Choi Jo-eun wasn’t planning to end his career as a hospital director.

He’d long dreamed of following in the footsteps of Choi Pil-du, the former doctor-turned-Minister of Health and Welfare.

‘Wait… isn’t that Park Sung-min, the floor leader of the opposition?’

Even though the current opposition was often mocked as a “perennial loser,” Park Sung-min himself was anything but minor.

As a first-term lawmaker, he’d revitalized his district’s economy. In his second term, he ran in a contested area and won, cementing his position within the party.

“I thought this was just a meeting with Professor Baek…”

Park stepped into the doctors’ lounge wearing the kind of affable, obviously practiced smile that everyone could see through.

He looked around the room and greeted each person in turn.

“Director Choi, I believe we’ve met before. Wasn’t it during that golf gathering with Minister Choi?”

“Oh… yes, Assemblyman. A pleasure to see you again. I’m Choi Jo-eun.”

“Haha, no need to stand up for me like that…”

“Not at all, sir. It’s an honor to meet you in such an unexpected setting.”

Director Choi still hadn’t fully grasped what was happening.

‘Why is ‘he’ here?’

That was the only thought racing through his head.

Still, even in his confusion, he was perfectly polite. A director through and through.

“I—I’m Hong Jae-hoon. Uh… Planning… I mean, Infectious Disease Department.”

Compared to him, Choi’s demeanor looked refined. Hong nervously blurted out whatever came to mind.

“I’m Jin Tae-rim. A pleasure, Assemblyman.”

At least Department Head Jin Tae-rim of Anesthesiology maintained her composure and offered a calm greeting.

After a somewhat chaotic round of introductions, Assemblyman Park casually took a seat next to Kang-hyuk.

A seasoned politician like him could already tell what the dynamics were.

‘Choi Jo-eun’s side—hospital leadership. This side—the Severe Trauma Center team.’

There was no way someone like Park would show up without being fully briefed.

He’d already had his aides gather the whole picture.

‘They pulled some underhanded crap.’

As he sat down, Park cast a very brief, yet sharp glance at the hospital executives.

It was just for a moment—but it was enough to make Director Choi’s heart sink.

‘Why’s he sitting over there…?’

It looked like a confrontation.

No, judging by that expression—it ‘wasn’t’ just a setup. He’d come to oppose them directly.

“Alright.”

Before Choi could unravel that train of thought any further, Kang-hyuk tapped the table and brought the room’s attention back.

“Let’s pick up where we left off. What were we saying again? Ah, right—why did I save Captain Lee Hyun-jong, was it?”

With a smirk, he fired the opening salvo.

The reporter in attendance immediately began hammering away at his laptop keyboard.

Beside him, a small voice recorder was already running.

The hospital executives’ faces turned bright red.

“You—you’re twisting this. We never said that!”

“I thought the question was, ‘How are we going to deal with the losses from saving him?’ That’s basically the same thing, isn’t it?”

“N-no, that’s not it, Professor Baek.”

Director Choi waved his hands frantically, unable to hide his agitation and embarrassment.

“Then what was it?”

“We were saying we need to ‘discuss’ the losses. How could you twist it into blaming someone for saving a life? Of course saving people is what doctors do.”

“Gag.”

At that, Jang-mi made a retching gesture, involuntarily.

She couldn’t stand how quickly Director Choi was parroting back the same lines Kang-hyuk had been saying—all because the situation had shifted.

Hong Jae-hoon glared at her, but Director Choi held him back.

Under normal circumstances, he would’ve reprimanded her.

But right now, they were on the losing end.

‘This is a trap… we walked right into it…’

They should’ve been suspicious when Kang-hyuk agreed so easily.

That should’ve been a red flag.

‘He lured us into a setup…’

Who would’ve thought his hidden ace was the floor leader of the opposition?

It was a checkmate none of them had seen coming.

Everything they’d prepared to say had become meaningless.

“If saving lives is so natural, then why is there no support?”

Whatever was running through their minds, the conversation continued.

Naturally, Kang-hyuk had the upper hand.

And Assemblyman Park’s silent presence was all it took to solidify it.

That was the power of a political heavyweight.

“W-we’re not ‘withholding’ support… the hospital is absorbing massive losses…”

“And isn’t that being covered entirely by the surgery department’s budget? As far as I know, it’s not the hospital helping—it’s just our department. That’s why Director Han Yoo-rim’s hair is turning white.”

Had Han heard that, he might’ve cried on the spot.

At this rate, he wouldn’t even ‘have’ white hair left.

“T-that’s…”

Director Choi glanced around desperately.

But if even ‘he’ couldn’t find the words, how could the other two?

Both Hong and Jin simply stared at the table, red-faced.

Just the presence of one outsider had turned all their actions into something shameful.

“You haven’t even brought up the request to pressure [HIRA], right? Honestly, it feels like things got ‘worse’ after I asked for help.”

“That’s unfair. That’s not true, Professor Baek.”

“Anyway, you remember what you said earlier, right?”

“W-what part?”

“That it’s a doctor’s duty to save lives. Funny how unnatural that sounds coming from you. Doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue, huh?”

Director Choi could only let out a soft sigh as Kang-hyuk mocked him.

He was bouncing off the walls like a reckless brat, yet Choi couldn’t say a word.

“How about it? Got a problem with me?”

But what could he do?

The power dynamic had flipped.

At least for now, Kang-hyuk had the upper hand.

“N-no… I think we’ll be going now. You seem to have another engagement.”

“Leaving already? You didn’t finish your meal.”

“No need. Enjoy your conversation—we’ll speak later.”

Choi decided there was nothing more to gain by continuing this conversation.

Jin Tae-rim had come to that conclusion long ago and stood up eagerly.

“Uhh…”

Hong Jae-hoon, completely out of sync with the mood, scowled and scrambled to follow them.

Just as the trio was about to leave the room, Assemblyman Park finally spoke.

“Ah, Director Choi.”

If it had been Kang-hyuk calling out, they might’ve pretended not to hear.

But not ‘him’.

There was no ignoring ‘this’ man.

“Yes, Assemblyman?”

Director Choi reluctantly turned around.

Park met his gaze with an ambiguous expression and continued.

“After I finish speaking with Professor Baek, I’d like to meet with you as well. Do you have time?”

He didn’t ask ‘when’—he just asked if Choi had ‘time’.

If it had been anyone else, Director Choi might’ve snapped back, ‘Do I look like I’m free?’

“Yes, of course. I’ll make time.”

“That’s the right answer. Now if you’ll excuse us—I’d like to speak with Professor Baek.”

“Yes…”

He’d stood thinking he was leaving on his own terms.

Now it felt like he was being ‘kicked out’.

Slouching, he walked off with sagging shoulders—only for Hong Jae-hoon to catch up like an eager puppy.

All bark, no bite.

“Why do you think Assemblyman Park came?”

“I don’t know… probably Baek Kang-hyuk called him.”

“You think just ‘anyone’ can summon a man like that?”

“I said I ‘don’t know’, damn it!”

While Hong got scolded for his cluelessness, Park took Kang-hyuk’s opposite seat.

The floor leader of the opposition party sure didn’t sit still for long.

To Kang-hyuk, he was a very likable kind of man.

“Well, talk about timing. I didn’t expect to find Director Choi here too.”

Park chuckled as he pulled up a chair.

Kang-hyuk smirked as well.

Watching Director Choi slink away had been ‘so’ satisfying.

Petty? Sure.

But hey, that’s just who he was.

“I didn’t expect it either. He showed up on his own.”

“Haha, you’re as bold as they say.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of my thing.”

“Well, I didn’t come empty-handed…”

Park chuckled along, then suddenly stopped and extended a hand.

His secretary immediately handed over a thick stack of documents.

They were the materials Kang-hyuk had submitted to [HIRA].

The ones that had been completely ignored.

“I’m not a doctor, so I can’t say I fully understand…”

Park flipped through the documents, showing they had been highlighted and marked up.

‘So this is him trying to show he did his homework.’

Kang-hyuk smirked at the transparency.

“But your documents look solid. I reviewed them myself.”

Park continued.

It was exactly what Kang-hyuk had been hoping to hear.

“So I ordered the head of HIRA to properly review them. From what I saw, it looked like no one even bothered to read them.”

“That’s… really appreciated.”

“No need to thank me yet. There’s no guarantee anything will come of it.”

Because HIRA reimbursement policy directly impacted money.

Specifically, the budget for national health insurance.

And that budget was one of the most politically sensitive issues for any administration.

Once it starts bleeding, premiums have to go up—and that costs votes.

Not even the president could make promises about this.

“But trying matters.”

“Exactly. If we can compile enough of these cases, we might be able to push for legislation.”

“Legislation?”

Kang-hyuk tilted his head, unfamiliar with the topic.

“Yes. A bill. Something that allows different review standards for Severe Trauma Centers. As you said—people who ‘could’ be saved are dying in this country.”

“That’s going to take a while…”

“You’re right. Unlike hospitals, the National Assembly doesn’t always put human lives first.”

It was a painful truth.

The lives of a few unknowns didn’t matter as much as the livelihood of the masses.

And in the long run, that ‘did’ tie back into more lives.

“But if a senior lawmaker takes the lead and keeps pushing, it’ll see the light someday.”

Park tried to reassure Kang-hyuk, who clearly looked disappointed.

But it didn’t help much.

Kang-hyuk wasn’t interested in “someday”—he wanted change ‘now’.

Sensing this, Park nodded and changed the topic.

“That said… I heard there’s been trouble with helicopter dispatch lately?”

“Hm?”

“That—I can help with ‘immediately’.”