Chapter 189

               

“Y-Yes!”

Junhyuk shouted in a voice far louder than before.

Of course he did. Kang-hyuk had forcefully untangled the heavy thoughts he had been brooding over alone.

“The incision… well, it was done decently.”

Kang-hyuk didn’t even glance at Junhyuk. His eyes were fixed only on the incision Jaewon had made.

It was ambiguous, but still praise, so Jaewon’s face brightened noticeably.

“I did well, right?”

He was even on the verge of saying something he shouldn’t.

Kang-hyuk stared up at him blankly.

“You little punk, how do you even say that out loud?”

“Well… because I did well…? Did I not?”

“I mean, well.”

Kang-hyuk leaned in again to examine the incision surface.

He looked as if he was searching for something to nitpick.

But there wasn’t anything worth nitpicking.

All Jaewon had done was make an incision down to the skull. Naturally, there wasn’t much to criticize.

Of course, back when he first started learning from Kang-hyuk, even work at this level had earned him scoldings by the dozen.

But Jaewon had long since surpassed that stage.

‘There’s nothing to scold… but I want to scold him.’

Kang-hyuk struggled for a moment before finding the correct answer.

“You brat. Some people finish an entire surgery and come up, while some of you barely make an incision? Does that make sense?”

“Ah… that…”

Jaewon swallowed hard the words swirling in his mouth.

He wanted to say *you’re just too fast*, but the surgery Kang-hyuk had just finished was a major procedure.

‘Seriously, how do you finish a lung surgery that fast?’

He wondered if he was just that slow, and glanced up at the clock.

Only 60 minutes had passed since anesthesia started, and the surgery itself had been underway for just 40 minutes.

In any other OR, they’d barely be finishing the incision.

Well—maybe a little more than the incision.

But definitely not finishing the entire surgery.

“Why are your eyeballs rolling around? Pull. We need to get through.”

“Ah, yes.”

“Don’t pull by yourself. Give him one. Kid’s full of motivation now.”

Kang-hyuk spoke to Jaewon while accepting two instruments—one for each hand.

He jerked his chin toward Junhyuk, who had been standing there blankly.

Compared to earlier during the lung surgery assist, his eyes were different.

From dead-fish eyes to sparkling bright.

He practically looked like a different person.

“Oh, right. Looks like that worked.”

Jaewon nodded with a meaningful smile.

Kang-hyuk returned the same smile as their eyes met.

Only Junhyuk, caught in the scheme of the two, tilted his head in confusion.

If he ever realized that Kang-hyuk’s earlier lecture was part of a deal between Kang-hyuk and Han Yoo-rim, he might bolt out of the OR immediately.

But Junhyuk was a first-year resident. He wasn’t sharp enough to grasp that.

“You pull up. In your other hand, take the syringe.”

Kang-hyuk handed Jaewon a syringe filled with saline.

“You pull down. Focus only on that.”

Then he positioned Junhyuk’s hand around the instrument.

Realistically, the skill gap between Jaewon and Junhyuk was about the same as the gap between Kang-hyuk and Jaewon.

So no matter how motivated Junhyuk was, there was a limit to what he could be allowed to do.

Vrrr—

After checking their positions were stable, Kang-hyuk tested the drill that Jang-mi handed him.

“What’s the RPM?”

“25,000.”

“Sounds a bit weak.”

Then he started nitpicking the sound.

The monitor clearly displayed 25,000.

If anyone else had said that, they would’ve dismissed it as nonsense.

But this was Kang-hyuk.

“Is it… broken?”

Jang-mi began suspecting the machine rather than the person.

Even she found it ridiculous.

But Kang-hyuk had shown too much for his credibility to be doubted.

He displayed feats daily that other departments would talk about for over a year.

“No, check the voltage. Especially the cord.”

Kang-hyuk lifted his foot off the pedal and pointed at the drill cord.

“Yes, Professor!”

Jimin—who had stepped back after finishing the lung surgery—ran over even before taking off her gown.

‘Is this real?’

Junhyuk tilted his head.

How could someone know the drill speed by sound alone?

To him, it all looked like excessive loyalty or excessive deference to the professor.

‘Guess I really…’

He was about to sink into doubts about his resident life when Jimin shouted.

“Ah… it was plugged into a normal outlet! I’m sorry!”

Most medical devices required higher voltage than household outlets.

Especially OR equipment.

So ORs had voltage converters ready.

Sometimes even the power cable itself had built-in step-up conversion.

“Right? It sounded slow. This equipment’s really sensitive.”

Kang-hyuk nodded as if he had expected that.

Meanwhile, Jimin quickly plugged it into the correct outlet.

‘Wow… is this real?’

Junhyuk repeated the same thought.

But now his tone was entirely different.

‘Temper’s awful, but the skill really is top-tier…’

He regretted not watching the lung surgery more closely earlier.

Finishing that big of a surgery that fast must have been magic.

‘When I get back… I should suggest something to the chief…’

General surgery was already drowning in scheduled operations.

Hanguk University Hospital wasn’t suffering from low resident applications—yet the shortage persisted.

Because small hospitals’ low application rates pushed more patients toward big hospitals like Hanguk University Hospital.

In short: too many patients, not enough doctors.

Trauma surgery—being a small division—didn’t even get interns assigned, let alone residents.

Junhyuk and the other residents thought that was normal.

No, they were thankful.

‘I shouldn’t… I *need* to watch this. I *need* to learn from him.’

They already had enough workload. Adding emergency-heavy trauma surgery seemed like hell.

But today showed that this hell was a hell filled with things worth learning.

Anyone crazy enough to choose surgery under the current insurance system would probably come here at least once.

Vrrr—

Kang-hyuk stepped back on the pedal, now satisfied.

“Good. This is how a drill should sound.”

“What happens if the speed is slow?”

Jaewon seized the moment while Kang-hyuk was in a good mood.

He could find the answer in textbooks or papers.

But that took time and effort.

‘Why bother when the human encyclopedia is right here?’

Jaewon looked at Kang-hyuk.

As expected, Kang-hyuk stared back at him like he was pathetic.

‘It’s fine. As long as I learn.’

Being scolded a little was nothing when learning from the world’s best surgeon.

“Slow drills burn the bone more. More damage.”

“What? But speed isn’t high…”

“Slow still means 20,000 RPM. That’s more than enough to cause damage.”

“Mm…”

“When you grab tissue, you use a toothed forceps or a smooth forceps?”

“Toothed.”

Common sense says smooth forceps should cause less damage.

But in reality, tissues grabbed with smooth forceps get crushed and unusable.

Toothed forceps damage only a tiny point, making them safer overall.

“Same with drills. You want to break exactly what you intend to break. If you mash it slowly, everything gets ruined.”

“Ah.”

Jaewon tilted his head, half understanding.

Kang-hyuk wanted to smack him, but couldn’t.

The instruments were precious, and kicking would send his foot across the patient’s head.

“Good grief.”

So he inserted the drill between the incision edges with an exasperated expression.

As always, he felt the vibration of the tough skull meeting the drill tip through his hand.

“Let’s grind. Quickly.”

“Yes!”

“Spray thoroughly. You just pull.”

“Yes!”

Junhyuk responded in an even stronger voice.

His respect for Kang-hyuk had grown again.

Watching him, Jaewon shook his head quietly.

‘Maybe he… might choose trauma surgery later…’

He hoped he wouldn’t.

But what could he do?

If someone insisted on walking into the mud, there was no stopping them.

Even he was walking it himself.

As a first-year trauma surgery fellow who claimed anyone with two friends would avoid this field.

“Hey, why aren’t you spraying?”

“Oh—yes.”

“You little brat, daydreaming? We’re in surgery.”

“S-Sorry.”

He wasn’t spraying poorly.

Honestly, Junhyuk couldn’t remember a time when Jaewon *didn’t* spray properly.

But to Kang-hyuk—whose procedures moved in seconds—it felt like he wasn’t spraying at all.

“Look. When something goes wrong here, they always blame the professor first. But do you really think I’d dump the responsibility on you?”

Jaewon instinctively shook his head.

Kang-hyuk was rough and crooked, but never petty.

He would never push blame onto someone else.

“Sigh, kid. So focus.”

“Yes.”

“Stop spraying. There’s a hole already. Trying to raise intracranial pressure? Want me dead?”

“N-No, sir.”

When he snapped back to attention, a small coin-sized hole was already drilled.

As always, the targeting was perfect—only a bloody clot visible, not the dura.

Suspiciously, the left side—where impact was suspected—was intact, while the right side was injured.

The head truly was mysterious.

“Suction.”

“Yes.”

“Not you—I don’t need you sucking out the whole brain.”

“Ah… yes…”

Trying to be helpful only earned Jaewon a scolding as he handed it over.

Kang-hyuk accepted the suction tip and cleared the clot with a few swipes, then looked over at Junhyuk.

As expected—bright eyes.

When young doctors dream of being surgeons, what do they imagine?

Not wealth.

Even the most naive students understood the reality.

Just look at the seniors who showed up at club gatherings.

Surgical seniors rarely showed up at all.

Because they had no time.

‘I’ll show you the surgeon you want to become.’

Kang-hyuk was showing Junhyuk the image he himself had only imagined back when he was Junhyuk’s age.

Naturally, both Junhyuk and Jaewon stared in admiration.