Chapter 173

               

Kang-hyuk and Jaewon swiftly completed the final sutures.

The difficult part had long been finished, so the rest of the work went smoothly.

For two seasoned surgeons, simple suturing was hardly a challenge.

“What was that call earlier?”

After tying the last knot, Kang-hyuk turned to Ji-min.

Ji-min knew well that when Kang-hyuk was focused, she should never interrupt unless it was about the patient.

So she had deliberately held back from mentioning the call until now.

“Ah, yes, Professor. A call came in from someone named Team Leader Ahn Jung-heon.”

“Ahn Jung-heon? What’s that guy calling for?”

Kang-hyuk tilted his head slightly as he stepped away from the operating table.

He calmly removed his bloodied gloves, tossed them into the disposal bin, and walked toward Ji-min—or more precisely, toward his phone sitting on the stainless-steel table.

“He didn’t talk long.”

He glanced at his phone and muttered under his breath.

Then he hit redial and turned toward Jaewon.

Jaewon was removing the sterile drapes that were stuck all over the patient.

“Slave, step back from the patient for a bit. I’ve got a feeling about this.”

“Ah… yes, Professor.”

Jaewon also sensed that Jung-heon wouldn’t have called out of the blue without a reason.

Even back when they worked together, that man never called for idle chatter—only for business.

In that sense, he was much like Kang-hyuk himself.

‘Click.’

While Jaewon was finishing up, lost in old memories,Kang-hyuk stepped out of the operating room, phone in hand.

“Yes, Professor. Have you finished the surgery?”

Jung-heon’s voice came through the receiver.

“Yeah, it’s done. What’s up?”

“Ah, you haven’t heard yet. The Fire Agency was completely turned upside down yesterday.”

“Turned upside down?”

“When did you build that kind of connection? I heard the Commissioner got summoned to the National Assembly and got chewed out pretty badly.”

“Ah… so he moved.”

Kang-hyuk murmured as he looked down at an unread message on his phone.

These days, phones could do just about anything—even mid-call, a quick check wasn’t hard.

> ‘ Had a pleasant talk yesterday with the Minister of the Interior and Safety and the Fire Commissioner. The Commissioner seemed deeply moved by your intentions and immediately carried out a personnel change yesterday afternoon.
>
> However, government funding for the helicopter landing pad will take some time to process. We’ll proceed gradually.
>
> – Park Sung-min

From the message alone, it looked like the conversation had been amicable.

But Kang-hyuk wasn’t naïve.
He could read between the lines.

‘Someone like the Fire Commissioner doesn’t just act out of sentiment.’

A man that stubborn doesn’t suddenly reshuffle personnel just because he’s “moved.”

That’d make even a passing dog laugh.

“Huh? Move?”

“No, not that. What happened exactly?”

The message only mentioned a personnel change, without details.
Perhaps Assemblyman Park thought that was all Kang-hyuk needed to know.

After all, things had gone exactly as Kang-hyuk wanted.

“Ah… I’ve been appointed as the new Commander of the Central Rescue Unit.”

“Oh.”

Actually, things had gone even better than Kang-hyuk expected.

He had only anticipated Jung-heon’s reinstatement as team leader.

But commander?

That meant far greater authority.

“And Kim Kang-ryul’s been appointed as team leader.”

“Heh. Team Leader Kim Kang-ryul too?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Very good.”

Kang-hyuk nodded with a satisfied smile.

Commander Ahn Jung-heon and Team Leader Kim Kang-ryul—Assemblyman Park had given him quite the gift.

‘Well… he’s probably trying to strengthen his party standing and draw attention to himself by using me.’

In other words, Park was trying to milk the situation for political gain.

Given that Kang-hyuk and Captain Lee Hyun-jong were currently national sensations, it wasn’t surprising.

But Kang-hyuk didn’t care.
In fact, he welcomed it.

‘Let them use me as much as they want.’

If it meant saving more lives, he’d gladly let them.

“Hmm? It sounds noisy where you are. Are you heading out on a dispatch already?”

Lost in thought, Kang-hyuk finally noticed movement on Jung-heon’s end.

If he were still in his office, he wouldn’t be hearing that kind of background noise.

“Ah, can you hear it?”

“Yeah, sounds like wind. Hmm… not a helicopter. Not an ambulance either. A car?”

“Uh… yes.”

Jung-heon was once again amazed at how this man could tell so much just from background noise.

‘Is this kind of perception what makes him such a surgical monster?’

The more he thought about it, the more it made sense.

Of all the doctors he’d worked with, Kang-hyuk was in a league of his own—a surgeon so exceptional it was almost unfair to compare him to others.

Diagnosis, surgery, execution—he was unmatched in every field.

“Where are you heading?”

“I’m on my way to Hanguk University Hospital.”

It was supposed to be a surprise visit,but since he’d already been found out, there was no point lying.

Especially not to Kang-hyuk—lying to him just felt wrong.

“You’re coming here? Why? You sick or something?”

Kang-hyuk looked genuinely puzzled.

If anyone could match Jung-heon in avoiding unnecessary contact, it was Kang-hyuk himself.

“No, sir. I just wanted to greet you, since I’ll be working with you again.”

“What’s the point? We’ll meet soon enough once something happens.”

“And also…”

Jung-heon grinned and glanced at Kim Kang-ryul, who was driving.

Kang-ryul met his eyes with the same sly smile.

The car was soon filled with laughter.

“There’s something I really want you to see.”

“Captain Lee Hyun-jong? You can’t.”

“No, no.”

“Then what?”

“You’ll find out soon enough. I think you’ll like it.”

“What is it this time… Fine. There’s no patient right now, so come quick if you’re coming.”

“Yes, Professor.”

After the call ended, Kang-hyuk stared at the darkened screen, tilting his head.

‘What is it I’m supposed to like?’

He couldn’t make sense of it.

And he didn’t have time to dwell on such things anyway.

The surgery had gone well, but it had only just ended.
That was when patients were most unstable.

‘Hope Slave’s managing fine.’

With that thought, his pace quickened.

Of course, Jaewon wasn’t alone in there.
Gyeong-won, Jang-mi, and even Chief Yoon Jae-ho were also present.

But a man like Kang-hyuk could never truly leave things entirely to others.

‘Clack.’

He walked past the crowd of reporters still gathered outside the ICU.

They all knew today’s surgery had been performed, and questions flew nonstop.

But Kang-hyuk, as usual, didn’t answer.
He just raised a finger to his lips.

Whether that meant “be quiet” or was an obscene gesture depended entirely on who saw it.

“Hey, hey…”

“He treats reporters like trash. He eats with prosecutors but won’t even look at us.”

“You think he’s hiding something?”

“Can’t tell. Hard to see from behind.”

“Tch.”

The reporters muttered among themselves, throwing in curses here and there.

Anyone else would’ve been intimidated—but not Kang-hyuk.

“How is he?”

He walked up to Captain Lee Hyun-jong, who had been moved to the ICU.

There was still a tube down his throat.
For someone who had been so close to death, it was a miracle he’d survived at all.

Expecting him to regain consciousness right away was unrealistic.

“He’s stable. His vitals have improved, and the fever’s gone since we closed the open wound.”

Jaewon smiled in relief as he spoke.

Just by looking, Lee Hyun-jong already seemed far better—his once-gaping wounds now neatly stitched.

Still, the improvement in his vital signs wasn’t drastic.
He was simply… stable.

“No change in blood pressure or heart rate for ten minutes since he came out.”

Ji-min relayed the numbers softly to Kang-hyuk.

She’d barely slept these past few days, working alongside Jang-mi to monitor every fluctuation in his condition.

Now, finally seeing stability, her voice trembled with emotion.

“Good. Very good. Hmm.”

Kang-hyuk nodded repeatedly, stepping closer to the bed.

Others assumed he just wanted to check the surgical site—but that wasn’t all.

Kang-hyuk could see things others couldn’t.

‘Lip color looks good. Toes too… fingertips, ears—everything’s pink again.’

These were changes imperceptible to most people,but not to someone like him, with abnormal color sensitivity.

‘It’s not just the vitals—peripheral circulation’s improved, and his breathing’s more efficient too.’

To confirm it, he only needed to check the color of the blood.

But if he pricked a finger without reason, the others would raise hell.

‘Especially the gangster nurse—she might actually hit me.’

There was a reason they called her that—her hands were deadly.

“Let’s check his blood sugar.”

So, he came up with an excuse.

“Huh? Blood sugar? He doesn’t have diabetes.”

“Don’t you know stress can cause temporary spikes?”

“But that’s… really rare.”

Jaewon immediately countered.

Surgery wasn’t his weak point, but his internal medicine knowledge was annoyingly strong.

Useful for trauma surgery work—but irritating at times like this.

“Then is getting shot common? Just do it. It’s not hard.”

“Um… yes, sir.”

There was no winning against Kang-hyuk.

Jaewon sighed and wiped the patient’s finger with an alcohol swab.

Any spot would’ve worked, but the side hurt a little less.

He was about to prick when—

“Hey.”

Kang-hyuk stopped him.

“Yes?”

“What are you doing?”

“Testing.”

Jaewon frowned, confused as to what he’d done wrong.

But to Kang-hyuk, ignorance was a grave offense.

“You idiot. If you’re gonna prick him, do it properly.”

“…Huh?”

“If he reacts to pain, that tells us about his consciousness level. He’s not a regular patient—he’s critical. Adjust your approach accordingly.”

“Ah… I see.”

It wasn’t written in any textbook—but it made sense.

So Kang-hyuk himself took the lancet and jabbed hard at the fingertip.

‘Prick.’

The other hand twitched faintly.

Nothing more—but it was enough.

“Good. He responded. Start preparing for [weaning]. Time to let him breathe on his own.”
(T/N: ‘Weaning’ refers to the process of gradually discontinuing mechanical ventilation.)

“Uh… weaning?”

“Yeah. Proceed.”

The decision wasn’t based only on the pain response.

‘Peripheral blood looks great. He’s not on high oxygen support, so that means his respiratory efficiency’s solid. It’s time.’

As Kang-hyuk smiled faintly to himself, Jang-mi tapped his shoulder.

“Professor, a call came in from the ER.”

“Huh? A patient?”

“No. The Fire Commissioner’s here to see you.”

(T/N: I’m really sorry for the bad news but due to my recent busy schedule I will be cutting the chapters per week down to 3 until further notice. Thanks for understanding!)