Trauma Center : Golden Hour - Chapter 19

“This guy? Have you lost your mind?”

Han Yoo-rim’s face turned red with anger.

Yang Jaewon wasn’t just his student; they were also alumni from the same university.

For his own pupil to behave so rudely in front of a professor from an outside school—there was no greater embarrassment.

But that was because Han Yoo-rim didn’t know Kang-hyuk as well as Jaewon did.

“I-I’m sorry! But this is urgent…!”

“What could possibly be so urgent? You have no clinic duties today, no surgeries!”

“I’m on duty at the Critical Trauma Center today.”

“That’s just for show—wait, no. What does that have to do with you being this disrespectful?”

Han Yoo-rim nearly blurted out his usual opinion but stopped himself when he remembered that Kang-hyuk was a trauma surgery professor.

Of course, that didn’t mean his opinion had actually changed.

‘That poor guy. Give him two years, and he’ll be fired in the next evaluation round.’

Han Yoo-rim glanced at Kang-hyuk with pity before turning his attention back to Jaewon.

Jaewon still hadn’t properly explained himself.

Too much had happened today, and he was struggling to find the right words.

It wasn’t easy to speak up when his own department head was staring him down.

“So why are you here?”

Only after Han Yoo-rim repeated the question did Jaewon finally manage to respond.

“During my shift, I received help from Professor Baek twice.”

“Then you should be grateful. Why did you come in yelling?”

“Well… He suddenly asked if I wanted to transfer to trauma surgery.”

“What?”

Only then did Han Yoo-rim turn to Kang-hyuk.

“Is this true?”

“Yeah, it is.”

Kang-hyuk answered with a look that practically said, So what?

‘This bastard… He’s actually insane.’

Han Yoo-rim reaffirmed his earlier judgment—his morning assessment of Kang-hyuk had been spot on.

“Professor Baek, this young man has already spent a year in colorectal surgery. He’s learned the fundamentals, and next year, he’ll be writing research papers on his way to becoming a professor.”

“A professor? Where exactly would that be?”

Kang-hyuk’s blunt question made Han Yoo-rim instinctively glance at Jaewon.

Because, in truth, there wasn’t a place to place him.

But Jaewon wasn’t the only fellow who had completed two years and ended up without a clear future.

It was just the way things were.

And Jaewon hadn’t even considered it a problem until now.

Not until Kang-hyuk made it one.

– “I trained you to be a specialist, so work as my assistant for two years. It’s only fair you repay the favor.”

That was the deal he had accepted when becoming a fellow.

So Han Yoo-rim laughed it off with practiced ease.

“Don’t be naive. You don’t just ‘place’ someone in a professor position. When an opportunity arises, then be prepared to step up.”

“I can prepare him just fine. If he trains under me, he might end up as Korea’s best trauma surgeon—besides me, of course.”

“What kind of ridiculous…”

Han Yoo-rim thought Kang-hyuk was delusional.

But Jaewon…

He didn’t hear it that way.

‘If I learn under him… maybe I actually could become the best.’

Even after such a short time, he had already learned so much.

What if he kept learning at this pace for an entire year?

‘Wait… would I really have to live like this for a whole year?’

The thought made pure terror rise in his chest.

Learning was great. Becoming a skilled surgeon was great.

But he still wanted to survive.

He had already almost died twice just today.

His instincts screamed that trauma surgery wasn’t for him.

Just as he was convincing himself, Kang-hyuk spoke again.

“This isn’t about you or me. In the end, it’s Dr. Yang Jaewon’s decision.”

“Decision? Nonsense. If I tell him to stay, he stays. That’s how fellowships work. You know that, Professor Baek.”

Han Yoo-rim wasn’t wrong.

It wasn’t right, but it was how things were.

Fellows were technically asked for their opinion, but the real decision came from the professor.

“Maybe. But I’m not from Hanguk University. And last I heard, there were talks about reforming the system during the last National Assembly hearing. Or did I misunderstand?”

“That’s politics. This is reality.”

“I don’t see a difference. So let’s let Jaewon decide.”

“Hah.”

Han Yoo-rim was speechless.

A rookie professor was standing his ground against him?

And from Muan University, of all places?

“This is why you can’t trust these rural types.”

Han Yoo-rim made a mental note to propose stricter screening for new faculty hires at the next department meeting.

At least Jaewon was from Hanguk University.

Not that Han Yoo-rim had any intention of going out of his way to help him.

To truly support a junior, they needed wealthy parents, political connections, or ties to major medical societies.

Jaewon had none of those.

Still, even if he had no duty to help him, he expected loyalty in return.

So Han Yoo-rim turned to Jaewon with a pointed gaze.

“Fine. Let’s decide this here and now. Dr. Yang Jaewon, what do you want? Trauma surgery or colorectal surgery?”

Any true Hanguk University graduate wouldn’t even hesitate to choose colorectal surgery.

Not that it guaranteed a professor position, but it was the proper choice for a disciple.

But Jaewon…

He just opened and closed his mouth.

“That’s…”

“You don’t have an answer right away?”

Han Yoo-rim’s face turned redder and redder.

Today had been nothing but humiliation.

Meanwhile, Kang-hyuk remained seated.

He gently traced the rim of his untouched teacup before speaking in a dry tone.

A tone so calm, it made his words even more unsettling.

“If you’re struggling to choose, maybe you should go back to your original intention—think about why you chose surgery in the first place.”

“My original intention…”

Every doctor felt something when they heard that phrase.

Because, more often than not, the doctor they had become was not the one they had envisioned when they first entered medical school.

In that sense, Jaewon was better off than most—at least he had become the surgeon he had wanted to be.

But he had never imagined ending up in colorectal surgery.

‘Back then, I didn’t even know subspecialties existed…’

It was a weak excuse.

Because even now, he wasn’t the doctor his younger self had dreamed of becoming.

“Hmm…”

Across from him, Professor Han Yoo-rim folded his arms, his gaze filled with disapproval.

Of course, he was a successful doctor.

A professor at the prestigious Hanguk University Hospital, climbing the ranks without pause.

He had published numerous research papers and given countless presentations.

Those papers and presentations had cost his fellows years of their blood and sweat—but that was beside the point.

‘The doctor who saves lives is over there.’

Jaewon’s gaze shifted away from Han Yoo-rim and landed on Kang-hyuk.

Kang-hyuk was staring intently at his teacup, as if it held the secrets of the universe.

Comparing him to Han Yoo-rim felt unfair—they were worlds apart.

One was from Muan University, the other from Hanguk University.

One was a new professor, the other the head of surgery.

One worked in a department so obscure it barely had academic recognition, the other was the director of colorectal surgery training.

Externally, the gap was obvious.

“Still… In terms of skill, he’s clearly superior.”

Jaewon couldn’t picture Han Yoo-rim saving a patient in the middle of chaos.

But Kang-hyuk?

Give him the chance, and he could probably do every surgery Han Yoo-rim had ever performed—better.

“Enough already! Yang Jaewon! Have you lost your mind? Just say you’re staying in colorectal surgery!”

Han Yoo-rim snapped, his frustration boiling over.

Jaewon’s hesitation was infuriating.

He had assumed Jaewon would immediately choose colorectal surgery—how dare he waver?

And right in front of him, no less.

It was beyond disrespectful.

“I…”

Jaewon hesitated, about to cave under Han Yoo-rim’s pressure, when Kang-hyuk suddenly stood up.

For a moment, Jaewon forgot just how massive he was.

The entire room seemed to shrink around him.

“Forget it. Guys like you—who hesitate and weigh their options—you’ll never save lives. You’ll freeze up and lose your patients.”

Kang-hyuk shook his head and walked past Jaewon, who was still opening and closing his mouth like a fish.

His face was unreadable.

Jaewon couldn’t tell if he was angry, disappointed, or indifferent.

But deep down, he felt like Kang-hyuk was…

Disappointed.

And for some reason, that bothered him.

“W-Wait! Hold on!”

Jaewon grabbed Kang-hyuk’s sleeve.

“Why? I don’t waste my time on cowards.”

“If I… If I join trauma surgery, what can you offer me?”

“I already told you—I don’t have the power to make you a professor. Neither does he.”

“No… That’s not what I meant.”

Jaewon shook his head and met Kang-hyuk’s gaze.

Normally, looking someone like Kang-hyuk in the eye at this distance would be overwhelming—he had a presence that made people instinctively look away.

But Jaewon forced himself to hold his ground.

“What will I become if I choose trauma surgery?”

For the first time, Kang-hyuk’s eyes narrowed slightly.

Then, he grinned.

“If you come, you’ll be doing what you did today—every damn day.”

“Is that it?”

“And eventually, one day, you’ll be able to save lives on your own.”

Jaewon couldn’t ask, “Is that all?”

Because that was the only answer that mattered.

So he said something else instead.

“Then I’m transferring to trauma surgery.”

Han Yoo-rim’s eyes widened.

“Y-Yang Jaewon! Have you lost your mind?! Who’s going to replace you now?!”

“I’m sorry, Professor. But… I finally found a specialty I actually want to do.”

“Didn’t you hear me earlier?! Fellows don’t get to choose their specialty—they go where they’re assigned!”

Han Yoo-rim’s fury was palpable.

But before he could explode further—

Kang-hyuk stepped in front of him.

“I could have sworn… you just said we’d let him decide.”

His tone was polite, but the respect in his words was nonexistent.

“Well, that’s…”

“Stop stuttering. We’re leaving. Trauma surgery is busy.”

Kang-hyuk turned on his heel.

“Y-You—!”

“Oh, and one more thing.”

Kang-hyuk paused at the door and glanced back.

“That teacup? It’s a fake. Han dynasty ceramics never came in that color.”