Chapter 165

               

“Right now?”

Kang-hyuk’s tone came out informal with excitement.

Fortunately, Assemblyman Park had already been briefed well beyond the HIRA documents.

He also knew exactly how Kang-hyuk usually spoke and acted.

So he didn’t take offense.

‘If I start working with someone this talked-about…’

There was an unwritten rule among politicians:

””Whether it’s good or bad, keep your name in the media.””

Anyone who’d taken a marketing class probably knew the idea.

For companies or products, bad publicity usually spelled death.

But for politicians, it was the opposite.

As long as your name was known, it translated to perceived competence.

‘And this guy’s public image is nearly spotless. Plus, he doesn’t seem interested in politics himself.’

To a politician, Kang-hyuk was the ideal partner.

“Yes, right now.”

Park maintained a bright smile, keeping his real thoughts hidden.

Even if Kang-hyuk figured out what those were, he was in no position to turn the offer down—so he welcomed it.

“How exactly?”

He figured that working with the floor leader of the National Assembly had to mean something. Even if politics was a foreign world to him, he at least understood that much.

But he had no idea what kind of help it could entail.

“Professor Baek.”

“Yes?”

“Do you know what one of the biggest perks of being floor leader is?”

Instead of answering directly, Park asked a question in return.

It was a roundabout way of speaking.

Something Kang-hyuk hated the most.

But he didn’t lash out.

He could tell there was something useful at the end of this particular detour.

And when that was the case, he had incredible patience.

“No idea.”

Even so, his reply was completely deadpan.

“It means I can directly call in ministers and vice-ministers.”

“Ministers… and vice-ministers?”

“Yes.”

“Ah…”

Kang-hyuk couldn’t quite connect the dots.

It ‘sounded’ important, but he didn’t know how that helped this particular situation.

He didn’t even know what ministry the fire department was under.

Park saw right through his confusion.

‘Yeah, he’s just a doctor.’

It wasn’t meant disrespectfully.

There was actually a great deal of respect behind it.

He’d met plenty of doctors in his role—but none who prioritized patients like Kang-hyuk did.

‘Anyone else would’ve come to me today.’

Not many people had the gall to summon the floor leader of the National Assembly.

It wasn’t about pride—it was just experience.

People didn’t come to him because they admired him.

‘This guy really just wants to save the trauma center.’

There wasn’t even a hint of personal gain behind it.

Of course, Park couldn’t rule out that Kang-hyuk was just ‘that’ good at hiding his ambitions…

But even then, that was something worthy of admiration.

Having made up his mind, Park continued.

“The fire department is under the Ministry of the Interior and Safety. And the current minister is former Assemblyman Kim Kyung-ryul.”

Kim was a senior member of the ruling party, a seasoned lawmaker.

Park wasn’t sure what made him a good fit for that ministry, but whatever—he had a working relationship with the guy.

On TV they might be shown yelling at each other, but off-camera, they could share casual banter like, ‘“Hey, maybe I went too far earlier.”’

“So?”

But Kang-hyuk had no clue who Kim Kyung-ryul was.

While Kim was making waves in the National Assembly, Kang-hyuk had been crawling through warzones in Syria.

Park glanced at him, smiled faintly—and for the first time, it felt ‘confident’ rather than polite.

“I’ll call him and the fire department commissioner in together.”

“Oh.”

“Once they’re both in the room, the conversation will go ‘very’ smoothly.”

“That’s… honestly, not something I ever considered.”

What’s the worst position for a mid-level administrator to be in?

Getting yelled at by your boss?

Getting challenged by your subordinates?

No—”it’s when you’re being grilled by your boss ‘and’ someone even higher up.”

‘Now ‘that’ would be something to see.’

Kang-hyuk would’ve loved to watch it unfold, if he had the time.

But of course, that was unlikely.

First, Park wouldn’t allow him to tag along.

Even if he did, there was still a bigger problem.

This hospital still couldn’t treat severe trauma patients without Kang-hyuk.

‘More than ten patients died in the ten days I was gone.’

Some died en route, some at the ER door.

No one had stepped up like he did—braving lawsuits, ignoring the risks, and charging forward.

And rightfully so.

No ordinary person could shoulder that kind of burden.

It took someone damn near heroic.

“Once that’s done, the [Central Rescue Unit] can start supporting dispatches again.”

“Thank you, Assemblyman.”

“No need to thank me. We should’ve done this a long time ago.”

Park glanced back at the documents his secretary had handed him earlier.

When he’d first received them, he was so dumbfounded that he was at a loss for words.

Nobody had offered support to the person doing the most important work—they’d only made things harder.

“Oh, and…”

His gaze shifted away from the files and toward the window.

The doctors’ office was on the first floor, so there wasn’t much of a view.

Still, something had clearly come to mind.

“You’ve been using the tennis court all this time, right?”

“Yes… that’s where we landed helicopters.”

“Seriously.”

Transporting critical patients to a tennis court?

He’d be too embarrassed to even ‘mention’ that overseas.

‘“In Korea, we land patients in dusty pits!”’

How could you say that with a straight face?

And this wasn’t some rundown rural hospital—it was the best hospital in the country.

Even overseas fellows came here to train in transplant surgery.

The imbalance was ridiculous.

“I’ll do something about that too. It’s not something I can fix by force, so it’ll take time—but I’ll try to make it happen by the end of the year.”

“Really? Thank you. That would make our jobs ‘so’ much easier.”

“Would it?”

“Absolutely. It improves patient safety, makes transport smoother… survival rates will go up.”

“I see.”

Kang-hyuk hadn’t mentioned convenience for medical staff even once.

Park silently scolded himself for assuming otherwise.

‘This guy’s the real deal.’

People always said, ‘“Shouldn’t doctors care only about patients?”’

But very few actually lived that way.

Sure, many started out that way…

But almost none stayed that way forever.

‘Same with politics.’

How many politicians truly worked for the people?

Park placed a hand over his chest and thought.

How many in the National Assembly—himself included—could say that with confidence?

It was hard to say “I am” without feeling ashamed.

All he could manage was, ‘“At least I’m better than most…”’

Which made Kang-hyuk that much more remarkable.

Whatever was pushing him this far, it was something relentless.

“It’s truly fortunate that someone like you exists, Professor Baek.”

“No, it’s fortunate that there are people like you willing to help.”

“I…”

Park almost blurted out, ‘“I came here because partnering with you would boost my chances at a presidential run.”’

It had been so long since he’d met someone this genuine, even if a bit rough around the edges.

The guilt hadn’t stopped gnawing at him since earlier.

“I’ll help with everything I’ve got.”

To ease his conscience—and because he truly meant it—he made that promise.

Kang-hyuk, who hadn’t cared about his motives from the start, simply smiled.

Since arriving in Korea, this was the first time he felt he had an ally with real power.

“I’ll be counting on you.”

As they shook hands, Kang-hyuk’s phone buzzed from inside his coat pocket.

“Excuse me a moment.”

“Of course.”

Park let go quickly and gestured for him to take the call.

Kang-hyuk glanced at the screen—it was the ICU.

‘Something happened?’

His chest tightened for a moment, but he composed himself.

Only nurse Hwang Ji-min was on duty there now.

If it was truly urgent, she wouldn’t have called—she would’ve run.

No matter how skilled a new hire was, they were still below even the dumbest second-year.

But there was also Director Yoon Jae-ho and Captain Lee Dong-joo present.

‘Whew.’

Relieved, Kang-hyuk answered the call.

“What is it?”

“Ah, Professor. It’s not about the patient.”

Just as he expected—it wasn’t critical.

He nodded with a look of relief.

Normally, he would’ve snapped about getting a non-emergency call this late.

But in the trauma center, that kind of etiquette didn’t apply.

Every medical staff member here was on-call 24/7.

“Go on.”

“Uh… it’s about Director Han Yoo-rim. He said it was urgent but couldn’t call you on your personal line.”

“Director Han? Why’s he calling?”

Han was one of the few senior doctors Kang-hyuk didn’t resent.

It hadn’t always been that way—but he’d been doing his best to support the trauma center lately.

Still smiling, Kang-hyuk asked again.

“He says [Pediatric Surgery] requested some [Gore-Tex].”

“Gore-Tex? Why… oh, they still haven’t gotten a shipment?”

“No, sir. We checked with every hospital nationwide. No one has any stock left.”

“Damn.”

Kang-hyuk’s face hardened.

He was the one who’d used the hospital’s remaining Gore-Tex.

If a child missed surgery because of that, it would be his fault.

Sure, he could blame the Ministry of Health for driving Gore-Tex out of the country…

But Kang-hyuk wasn’t the type to shift blame—especially not when a life was on the line.

“When’s the surgery?”

“They said it has to happen within the next two months. He wanted to know if you had any leftover from your last case.”

“No way there’s any left… that patient’s aorta was about to rupture.”

“Then… what should we do?”

Kang-hyuk fell silent, lips pressed tight.

He couldn’t think of a solution.

He considered asking Park for help—but he wasn’t the right person.

Even a floor leader couldn’t pressure a multinational corporation.

‘That’s exactly how things got messed up in the first place…’

So Kang-hyuk made a decision.

“I’m sorry. Something urgent came up.”

Park glanced at the reporter.

The journalist nodded silently.

They had more than enough material for a story.

“It’s fine. Go ahead.”

“Thanks. I appreciate everything today.”

“I’ll be in touch—with hopefully good news about everything we discussed.”