Chapter 171

               

Drdrdrdrdrdr.

Most of the furniture in the operating room was made of stainless steel.

It wasn’t to give off a futuristic or sci-fi atmosphere.
It was purely to prevent infection.

If wooden furniture were used in a place where sterilization must always be the top priority, wouldn’t that be strange?

Sure, wood looked warm, beautiful, and aesthetically pleasing—
but by nature, it was a material that couldn’t avoid harboring resident bacteria.

Drdrdrdrdrdr.

Because of that, Kang-hyuk’s phone was ringing so loudly that any ordinary ringtone would be utterly drowned out.

“Will someone please answer that already!”

It was loud enough to scatter Kang-hyuk’s concentration.

He, who almost never stopped mid-suture, suddenly halted and shouted in frustration.

But Jang-mi couldn’t answer since she was in surgical attire.

Captain Lee Dong-joo and Internal Medicine Chief Yoon Jae-ho were hesitating, wondering if picking up the phone in his stead would be overstepping their bounds.

“Yes, I’ve answered the call! Professor Baek Kang-hyuk is currently in surgery!”

Thankfully, Nurse Hwang Ji-min had returned just in time.

She was sweating profusely after having just moved a large, heavy microscope all by herself—again and again.

“Ah… this is Ahn Jung-heon.”

“Who?”

“Ah… hmm.”

Jung-heon suddenly realized it was a voice he’d never heard before.

‘Must be someone new.’

If so, it was understandable they didn’t recognize him.
It had already been several weeks since he’d been forcibly prevented from working with them.

“Please just tell him I’ve got very good news. I’ll explain the details directly when he calls back.”

“Ah, yes. Understood.”

“Then please tell him I wish him strength for the surgery.”

“Yes.”

Ji-min hung up the friendly call with a puzzled expression.

Given Kang-hyuk’s position and responsibilities, he received phone calls quite often.
But they were either strictly businesslike—or openly hostile.

Someone speaking so kindly was a first.

‘What was that…?’

While Ji-min ended the call with a questioning look, Jung-heon couldn’t wipe the smile from his face.

He couldn’t stop laughing whenever he recalled what he’d heard that morning.

‘Professor Baek… when did you raise such a protégé like that?’

Keeping his head lowered so others wouldn’t see his expression, Jung-heon recalled the story again.

—

“Ah, Commissioner. This is the Minister of the Interior and Safety.”

“Yes, I know… Good to see you, it’s been a while.”

“Haha, no need to bow so low. It’s just a ministership.”

“No, sir.”

The Commissioner knew very well why that man was a Minister.

Ordinary citizens barely cared how many ministries there were in the country or how many ministers existed.
They might know a few names and faces of those they often saw in daily life—but the Minister of the Interior and Safety?
That one was hardly familiar.

‘The tone of that call… didn’t sound too friendly.’

But for those within the ministry, the Minister’s position was absolutely monumental.
One wrong move, and your career could be over.
After all, the Minister was appointed directly by the President—the head of the department itself.

“Haha. Please, have a seat.”

And it wasn’t just the Minister at the table.

The **Floor Leader of the main opposition party** was there as well.

He wasn’t the party leader, but still someone powerful enough to be called the very core of influence.

‘Why would he call me here along with the Minister…?’

The Commissioner had been racking his brain ever since he received the summons.
But he couldn’t figure it out.

He had long forgotten that he’d cut off Jung-heon and the Central Rescue Unit from support.
He couldn’t imagine that a political heavyweight like Assemblyman Park Sung-min would call him over such a trivial issue.

His mind was on something completely different.

‘Don’t tell me… he knows about the corruption during the doctor helicopter procurement process?’

Just thinking about it made his chest turn cold.
If that were exposed, not only would he lose his position, he could very well end up in prison.

From what he knew, Assemblyman Park Sung-min was a man without a speck of dust to his name—
and someone who took great pleasure in exposing others’.

Gulp.

The Commissioner unconsciously swallowed dryly and sat down.

“Minister, how’s life after stepping away from the National Assembly? Peaceful?”

“Haha, it was hard to adjust at first, but I’m fine now. Ah, look at me, I’m speaking casually to the Floor Leader.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine. This isn’t an official meeting. I just wanted to see you both together.”

“Oh? Then we can talk comfortably?”

“Of course. Still playing golf these days? I’m stuck just shy of breaking single.”

“You’re too impatient. Golf’s all about waiting—relax the power, let your hips move, and wait for your arms and club to follow.”

Contrary to the Commissioner’s fears, the conversation was just small talk.

‘Wait… is this…?’

He even began to wonder if they were trying to recruit him into politics.

Just when the Commissioner’s face finally relaxed in relief, Assemblyman Park shifted the mood.

“By the way, did you see the news? Professor Baek Kang-hyuk from Hanguk University Hospital’s Severe Trauma Center rescued Captain Lee Hyun-jong.”

“Of course, I did. We’re actually holding a meeting in our ministry to see how we can assist.”

In other words, they were trying to figure out how to ride the wave of public interest surrounding Kang-hyuk and Captain Lee Hyun-jong.

Assemblyman Park glanced at the Commissioner briefly, then continued with a faint smile.

“I’m sure there’s a way you can help.”

“Oh? How so?”

“There was a request from Professor Baek Kang-hyuk, one involving an organization under your ministry.”

“Oh? This is news to me. There was such a request?”

“It was probably received by a lower department. The matter must have been deemed unimportant and never escalated upward.”

Now, Assemblyman Park was looking directly at the Commissioner, ignoring the Minister.

That was when the Commissioner realized why he’d been summoned by this man.

‘I’m screwed…’

And he remembered what he, along with the hospital director and chief administrator, had done.
Legally, it wasn’t a crime—but ethically, it was indefensible.

“Lower… department?”

The Minister followed Assemblyman Park’s gaze toward the Commissioner.

Now, both men—one a Floor Leader and the other a Minister—were staring at him.
The Commissioner felt like dying.

“Yes. You’re aware of the Central Rescue Unit under the Fire Agency, correct?”

Assemblyman Park’s voice was calm, but his eyes were sharp.

The Commissioner couldn’t even tell whether the question was aimed at him or the Minister.

“Uh…”

He tried to respond, but the Minister spoke first.
After all, he was a veteran politician, having served four terms in the Assembly—he could read the situation.

Though the Minister ranked higher in protocol, the hierarchy of influence was different.
The Minister was appointed by the President; the Assemblyman was elected by the people.
Their authority was incomparable.

“I know of it. Why? Is there some issue with it?”

“What was the Central Rescue Unit originally established to do?”

“Well… to conduct rescue operations, of course. To handle situations local fire stations can’t.”

“Right. But what if they were required to submit an official document each time before they could be dispatched?”

“Hah. That’s absurd. Don’t tell me that actually happened?”

The Minister’s face twisted in disbelief.

Had there ever been a case where a fire station had to file paperwork before leaving to put out a fire?
If that ever happened, the station chief would be fired, and both the Commissioner and Minister would have to issue a public apology on national TV.

And yet that was exactly what the Central Rescue Unit had done—requiring an official request letter from a partnered fire department or hospital before mobilizing.

“You should answer, Commissioner. Why are you silent?”

Assemblyman Park’s gaze bore into him.
The unflinching stare of a powerful man was overwhelming.

The Commissioner felt like he’d be crushed under that look.
He bowed his head deeply.

“I… I’ll ask the unit commander. I wasn’t aware… about the paperwork.”

“Oh, really? So it was a unilateral decision by the commander?”

Assemblyman Park’s tone was icy and deliberate.
The Minister immediately realized something.

‘He already knows everything.’

But the Commissioner wasn’t sharp enough to pick that up.
Half out of his mind, he was focused only on surviving this meeting.

“Yes… that’s right. I didn’t know.”

“I see. Then shall we ask?”

“Pardon?”

“Bring him in.”

Assemblyman Park gestured coldly to his secretary.

The secretary, understanding the gravity of the moment, opened the door personally.

A man even paler than the Commissioner stepped in—the very Central Rescue Unit Commander the Commissioner had recently appointed himself.

“Ah, don’t sit. This won’t take long.”

“Y-yes, sir.”

When the commander instinctively moved to take a seat, Assemblyman Park’s casual refusal made his face go even whiter.
Anyone watching might’ve thought he needed an immediate transfusion.

“Commander. You ordered a formal request letter for Professor Baek Kang-hyuk’s and Gwanak Fire Department’s rescue request, didn’t you?”

“I…”

“Can’t remember? Then take a look at this.”

Assemblyman Park tapped a document on the table.

It was a transcript of the call—the order to submit an official document before deployment, printed in black and white.

“This…”

“It clearly says you demanded a request letter. Correct?”

“Y… yes, that’s correct.”

The Commissioner was already suffocating in discomfort,and the commander—whose rank was far lower—looked ready to faint.

“Did you make that decision on your own? You seem quite enthusiastic—it must’ve been your first rescue request since promotion, wasn’t it?”

Assemblyman Park pressed on relentlessly.
The commander felt a fuse pop in his brain.

Even as the man stood there dazed, Assemblyman Park’s words didn’t stop.

“As a result of that denial, the rescue had to be done by ambulance. Do you know what happened to that patient?”

“I-I don’t.”

“Of course you don’t. That’s why you can sit here so calmly.”

Assemblyman Park’s tone turned as cold as a blade.

“That patient died.”

The words struck like a dagger.

“So, I’ll ask again—was it your independent decision? Or were you instructed to do it?”

The commander instinctively turned to look at the Commissioner.

Seeing that, Assemblyman Park nodded as if satisfied.

“So, the Commissioner gave the order. Was there a legitimate reason?”

“Uh…”

“Or perhaps someone put you up to it?”

“N-no…”

The Commissioner’s brain was spinning at full speed.
If he faltered now, his career was finished.

He had to say something—anything—to survive.

“Ah!”

“Ah?”

“There was… a request from the district office. They asked us to hold off on helicopter deployments due to the noise complaints…”

Even he knew it was a pathetic excuse, but at least it gave him something to say.

Unfortunately, it only made things worse.

Assemblyman Park was the kind of man who, once he started stepping on someone, never stopped until the person was crushed.

“The district office, huh? Right, there’s that person too. Bring them in.”