Chapter 170

               

“Ah…”

Jaewon nodded as he watched what Kang-hyuk had just demonstrated.
This was true, living education. The kind of knowledge textbooks didn’t teach—or, even if they did, never in a way you could really grasp.

“So that’s how it works…”

Even Captain Lee Dong-ju, watching from the back, and Chief Yoon Jae-ho, who had no business in the OR, were stunned.

Working in a university hospital meant you picked up bits from other fields here and there. And by what they knew, this [free flap surgery] was among the most complex procedures in existence.
(T/N: Free flap surgery involves transplanting tissue with its blood supply to reconstruct a defect, requiring microvascular connections.)

Yet here Kang-hyuk was, performing it so effortlessly, even with enough leeway to teach as he went.

It made the room feel colder, goosebumps breaking out on their arms.

“Alright, let’s move on to the vein.”

Kang-hyuk wiped away the venous blood oozing from the forearm wound with wet gauze, then looked back at Jaewon.

“Yes!”

Jaewon responded with energy, pulling the vein into view. He had quickly set aside his astonishment.

‘I’m not just here to learn. I’m here to work.’

He knew his place well—not only as a student, but as a slave, a worker.

“Good. Veins are… trickier. Why?”

He pulled on the fragile venous wall with his needle. Despite how thin it was, it didn’t tear or split. Kang-hyuk’s perfect control of tension made sure of that. His superhuman eyesight also let him choose the sturdiest point to grip.

“Because veins collapse. They don’t hold shape like arteries.”

“Right. So how do you make it easier?”

“Uh…”

This wasn’t in any textbook. They only said, *suture the vein.* No methods, no tricks.

Even papers weren’t helpful—no professor would publish his little secrets. Who would risk showing up colleagues with a petty “trick”?

That was why, even in the 21st century, surgery still relied on apprenticeship.

“What did you just say makes veins difficult?”

As he irrigated the vein with saline, Kang-hyuk asked again. Tiny blood clots flushed out. No surgeon worth his salt would work with debris left behind.

“They collapse.”

“Then make them not collapse.”

“Is… is that even possible?”

Jaewon stared at him, dumbfounded. It reminded Kang-hyuk of the surgeons he’d met at Black Waters—men who had trained at the best trauma centers in the world, even the U.S. Marine Burn Center.

‘They all looked at me like that too.’

At first, they hadn’t asked. Who would lower themselves to learn from some Korean doctor from a “small country”? But in the field, pride meant nothing compared to saving lives. Again and again, they’d come to him for tips.

“Why are you smiling?”

“Did I?”

“Your eyes are smiling.”

“You’re imagining it. Anyway—make it taut.”

“How? How’s that even possible?”

Kang-hyuk shook his head. Jaewon was acting like he had the right to demand answers just because he was a “disciple.” But then, wasn’t that the point? Only a true student would ask so bluntly.

“Just watch.”

Still irrigating, he kept spraying the vein.

“Watch closely. What happens when I do this?”

“It gets… wet?”

“God, your IQ needs testing.”

He sighed and gestured to Jang-mi for another syringe. She handed it over immediately. They’d worked together long enough that she moved like an extension of him.

“Now look.”

He pushed saline into the vein. The collapsed wall swelled, turning taut. Temporary, but enough.

“See that?”

“This is… the tip?”

“You little brat. That’s a priceless trick and you look like it’s nothing?”

“But… it only lasts a second—ahhh! Why step on my foot?!”

Tears welled up as Jaewon yelped. Kang-hyuk just grinned.

“What? That was less than a second.”

“Argh…”

“Long enough, right?”

“You’re saying that’s the same thing? Ow! Why again?!”

“For yelling.”

“Argh…”

Jaewon groaned and whimpered until he went quiet. Kang-hyuk silently handed him the syringe. In the OR, refusal wasn’t an option.

“Spray it?”

“You planning to drink it?”

“N-no…”

Face crumpled, Jaewon irrigated the vein. He’d done this before, but only now realized it wasn’t just for cleaning—the water actually made suturing easier.

‘It really does… tighten.’

For just a moment, the vein stiffened.

Thunk.

Kang-hyuk seized the moment, stabbing the needle through.

“Wow… Master—uh, Professor…”

The awe slipped out of him. He prayed no one had heard the slip. But the cameras recording everything surely had.

“See that?”

He pierced the other end with the same needle, then looked at Jaewon.

“Yes, yes, I saw.”

“You can do it too, right?”

“Well…”

He faltered. Watching was one thing, doing another. Like soccer—on TV, pros looked sloppy, but try it yourself and your body wouldn’t obey.

“Mm.”

Kang-hyuk nodded, surprisingly understanding. Even the world’s greatest surgeons had once admitted as much to him.

“Keep watching. It’ll come to you.”

“Yes, Professor.”

“Spray more. Or you want an MRI to check for stroke?”

“No, sir…”

Jaewon sprayed again, and Kang-hyuk kept sewing—sometimes when Jaewon expected it, sometimes before he even realized. The result was seamless, like the vein had never been cut.

‘So that’s why none of his flaps ever necrosed…’

In these reconstructions, arterial failure killed flaps quickly, while venous failure suffocated them slowly. But Kang-hyuk’s method eliminated both risks.

Snip.

Before anyone realized, he tied the final knot. Less than five minutes for a vein anastomosis most surgeons considered a nightmare.

“Wow…”

“Incredible.”

From the back, Lee Dong-ju and Yoon Jae-ho gasped.

“Hm.”

Jaewon, surprisingly, was quiet. Not because he wasn’t amazed—because he was replaying every step in his head.

‘Will I… ever be able to do that?’

He still assisted, but part of his mind was locked on the lesson.

“Now, the bone. Drill.”

“Yes.”

Kang-hyuk moved on without fanfare. It was time to join the grafted bone to the forearm. The site had been cleaned since the bullet removal, sterilized and ready.

All that was left was to drill holes and fix screws.

Difficult, yes, but nothing compared to vessels.

“Okay, done. Let’s see.”

He examined the fit. Any true expert would have been more stunned here than at the vessels—the graft’s length and contour matched the missing bone almost perfectly. No measuring tools used.

‘This won’t impair function. Maybe no sprinting, but that arm will work.’

For Captain Lee, a left-hander, that mattered more than his leg.

“Good. Close up the rest and we’re done.”

He tapped the wound lightly. Jang-mi handed suturing tools to both him and Jaewon.

As they began closing, Kang-hyuk’s phone buzzed on the desk.

The caller ID read: Former Rescue Team Leader Ahn Jung-heon.