Chapter 185

               

“Ah, Professor!”

As soon as they entered the hospital, Jang-mi called out to Kang-hyuk with a look of relief.

It wasn’t exactly a good sign.

That only meant something was up.

“What is it?”

“Ah, a patient is incoming.”

What else could possibly make Jang-mi happy to see a trauma surgery professor?

It was a sad reality, but also a logical one.

“When did the alert come in?”

Kang-hyuk let go of Jun-hyuk’s collar and approached Jang-mi.

Jaewon followed suit.

‘What the hell.’

Jun-hyuk stared blankly at the two, busying themselves after dragging him out of his room like it was urgent, only to now leave him on the sidelines.

But he didn’t know yet.

That being left out was the happiest position one could have here.

“Hey! You, come here!”

“Uh…”

“Are you deaf? I said come here!”

Kang-hyuk called him over with an angry face.

Jun-hyuk hesitated.

‘I… I’m the one who ran away. I wasn’t even on the trauma rotation.’

In other words, he had absolutely no reason to respond to Kang-hyuk’s call.

And yet, before he knew it, he was already standing in front of him.

In this place, reasons didn’t matter.

All that mattered was that if you didn’t comply, you might get beaten.

“There’s a worker incoming from a construction site fall. You’re on standby. And what the hell is this outfit? You’re a surgeon—wear your scrubs even at home!”

Kang-hyuk issued his command to the half-frozen Jun-hyuk, adding nonsense along the way.

Only then did Jun-hyuk realize he was still in his home sweats and sneakers, worn barefoot.

Definitely not proper hospital attire.

“Here, wear this.”

Gyeongwon, already prepped for the patient’s arrival, tossed him an extra set of scrubs.

“Ah, yes.”

So Jun-hyuk stumbled into the trauma surgery office and changed clothes.

Clatter.

As soon as he entered, he bumped into what appeared to be an empty cup noodle container—likely Jaewon’s.

Whether it had been out of hunger or stress, not even a drop of broth remained.

‘Yikes.’

The room looked too run-down to be a space used by professors and fellows.

Even the on-call room used by residents seemed better in comparison.

At least those had been spruced up for “human rights” or whatever.

‘They actually sleep in here…?’

He pushed a creaky bunk bed that looked as old as him. It groaned loudly.

‘So this is the future of a surgical specialist, huh.’

A sigh escaped him.

From first to fourth-year, all the surgical residents were working like cattle.

Some found time to study, too.

Not many—but some.

After all that grueling work, the reward for becoming a professor through the best path… was a place like this?

Maybe it was wise that he ran away from surgery.

But this wasn’t the reality that made him run.

That’s what made it even harder to step out and rejoin Kang-hyuk.

‘Can I really do this…?’

As he put on the scrubs, still warm with disinfectant and a strange comforting heat, the reality hit him.

He was about to take part in a surgery.

Which meant he’d be directly involved in someone’s life.

From the outside, it always looked cool.

But being the one doing it brought immense pressure.

“Hey! You gonna take all day getting dressed? Get out here!”

“Ugh.”

“What? You hit your head? Sorry. You okay?”

“Ah… I’m fine.”

Jun-hyuk had been hesitating just outside the door when Jaewon yanked it open and made him stumble back.

After confirming he wasn’t hurt, Jaewon gestured for him to follow.

“Come on. The patient’s almost here.”

“Ah… okay.”

Jun-hyuk couldn’t just stay behind, so he trailed after Jaewon.

Walking alongside him, Jaewon struck up a conversation.

“First time working in the Severe Trauma Center?”

“Huh? Ah, yes.”

Jun-hyuk had only been a surgical resident for about a month.

It wasn’t just trauma—basically everything was new to him.

Jaewon gave him a look of sympathy.

‘Poor bastard… what a day to get dragged into this.’

They had only brought him in to talk, and now he was being thrown into the field.

Jaewon didn’t want it to go this way either.

But this place was too busy and brutal to accommodate others.

“This is surgery, yeah, but it’s a little different from the rest. You won’t always have the full patient picture.”

“Oh…”

Jun-hyuk nodded, not fully understanding what that meant.

If it were Kang-hyuk, he might’ve slapped the back of his head—but Jaewon was practically a saint by comparison.

“So don’t freak out. Just do what you’re told. You won’t be asked to do much anyway.”

“Ah, yes…”

“By the way, do your hands always shake like that? What’s up?”

Jaewon asked as he noticed Jun-hyuk’s hands trembling like someone about to give their first academic presentation.

“N-No. Just nervous, that’s all.”

“No need to be. It’s not like Professor Baek is gonna throw a big job at a first-year.”

Even Jaewon, a fellow, was given tasks gradually by Kang-hyuk.

He might seem reckless, but when it came to patients, he was meticulous and cautious.

“He… won’t?”

“Of course not. You’re a first-year. Now if you were a fourth-year, maybe. Anyway, come on. Everyone’s waiting.”

“Okay.”

Maybe it helped—Jun-hyuk began massaging his hands as he followed.

Just like Jaewon said, Kang-hyuk, Jang-mi, Ji-min, and Gyeongwon were waiting in the emergency medicine lobby.

WEEOOOOW.

Soon, an ambulance screeched to a halt outside.

Fortunately—or unfortunately—the accident happened nearby.

Rather than wait for a helicopter from Central Rescue, a local fire station had responded much faster.

“Patient’s consciousness?”

Even before the ambulance came to a full stop, Kang-hyuk and the team rushed to it.

“None at all.”

A paramedic, unloading the stretcher, shook his head grimly.

Another paramedic was straddling the patient, performing chest compressions.

“Goddammit.”

Only then did Kang-hyuk realize he shouldn’t even be asking about consciousness.

The cardiac monitor attached to the patient’s chest was flat.

It only spiked rhythmically when the paramedic pressed down.

“When did it start?”

Kang-hyuk checked the patient’s pupils as he asked.

The paramedic replied promptly.

“Two minutes ago.”

“Two minutes… that’s something at least. Suspected injury sites?”

“Head, cervical spine… and chest.”

“Might as well call it full-body…”

Kang-hyuk shook his head, recalling that all those areas were critical.

Even as they exchanged information, the rest of the team was already moving like ghosts.

“Intubated. Crank the oxygen.”

Gyeongwon managed to intubate the patient without tilting the head back at all.

One of the paramedics was stunned.

“That’s even possible?”

“I practiced.”

Gyeongwon didn’t seem to realize he was a monster himself.

“Little sting.”

At the foot of the bed, Jang-mi warned the unconscious patient as she inserted an IV needle perfectly into a collapsed vein.

“Sending for tests. Starting fluids.”

Across from her, Ji-min was attaching monitoring equipment nonstop.

“I’ll take over now.”

Jaewon, already drenched in sweat, switched places with the paramedic and resumed chest compressions.

“Jun-hyuk, get ready. Switch every minute.”

“Ah… yes.”

The situation was far too urgent.

Almost no one could say “uh, I’ll sit this out” here.

Jun-hyuk, an average person, nodded instinctively.

“Switch!”

Jaewon jumped off the bed after a burst of compressions.

Jun-hyuk, a doctor after all, got on without hesitation and began pressing down.

Crack.

Whether from the CPR or a preexisting injury, some ribs broke.

Jun-hyuk’s strength faltered.

He knew—broken ribs didn’t matter. What mattered was compressions.

But knowing and doing were different.

He lacked experience.

“Hey!”

Kang-hyuk smacked his palm.

“Press properly! Don’t just pretend! This isn’t a show, it’s CPR!”

“A-Ah, yes!”

“Don’t talk! Keep pressing!”

Even while scolding him, Kang-hyuk’s eyes never left the patient’s chest.

Jaewon, Jun-hyuk, and the others probably thought he was just checking Jun-hyuk’s form.

But that wasn’t it.

‘For the heart to stop beating… there are certain conditions.’

Sudden stops happened—like in myocardial infarction.

But this was trauma.

There had to be another cause.

‘Tamponade…? No. That’s not it.’

If it were that, the rhythm would spike differently.

If blood was compressing the heart, it’d show signs.

But this wasn’t the case.

“Hold on.”

Kang-hyuk figured it out in less than 40 seconds.

“Yes?”

“Stop.”

“Uh… okay.”

In CPR, stopping was taboo.

But some experts overruled principles.

Kang-hyuk was one of them.

“It’s not that the heart’s not beating… the heart’s fine.”

He’d caught the subtle rhythm changes.

“What?”

Then, without hesitation, he jammed a needle into the patient’s right mid-chest.

*Fwoooosh.*

Too loud for just trapped air—something else was released.

“He broke ribs in the fall. If the lung collapse is bad enough… it can pull the heart and stop it.”

Almost to prove his words, the monitor began showing a strong heartbeat.

“Hah.”

Jun-hyuk let out a deep breath and stepped down.

But no one else exhaled like that.

Because treatment had only just begun.

“To the OR. Now. Everyone move.”