Trauma Center : Golden Hour - Chapter 21
Bzzt, bzzt.
Now that he thought about it, his phone had been vibrating non-stop inside the thin pocket of his lab coat.
When he finally checked, there were already over ten missed calls.
A cold sweat trickled down his back.
Missing calls from the hospital usually meant that something had gone terribly wrong.
‘Shit. What went wrong and with whom?’
His mind rapidly cycled through the list of hospitalized patients.
But aside from the two patients he and Kang-hyuk had operated on earlier and transferred to the ICU, there was no one else in critical condition.
Which made sense.
After all, patients undergoing surgeries for things like hemorrhoids or [anal fistulas] weren’t exactly fighting for their lives. (T/N: An abnormal tunnel that forms between the anal canal and the skin near the anus, often due to infection or abscess.)
“Phew.”
Realizing this, he felt somewhat relieved.
At the same time, he became painfully aware of just how distant he had grown from situations that truly determined life and death.
‘Then what the hell is this about?’
Letting out a sigh of relief, Jaewon skimmed through the missed call list.
The numbers came from all over, almost simultaneously.
It was clear now that this wasn’t about a patient.
Jaewon decided to return the most recent call—his fellow resident-turned-liver-pancreas surgeon, Jo Hyung-wook.
“Hey, Jaewon. What the hell were you doing? Why weren’t you picking up?”
Hyung-wook’s tone was half-scolding, half-exasperated.
These days, they only really called each other for patient-related matters.
But back when they were residents, they had practically been inseparable.
Hearing his voice now, Jaewon couldn’t help but tense up.
“Why? Did something happen?”
Without realizing it, Jaewon instinctively covered his mouth as he spoke.
Kang-hyuk, watching him, shook his head.
“You think covering your mouth means I can’t hear you? Am I supposed to be a lip reader now?”
Come to think of it, that was a fair point.
Jaewon quickly turned away and lowered his voice even more.
“Ah. You haven’t seen it yet, have you?”
“Haven’t seen what?”
“Professor Han Yoo-rim sent an email. A mass email. The whole fellowship group chat is in chaos right now.”
“Han Yoo-rim…?”
“Yeah. Did you screw something up? Why are you reacting like that?”
“Uh…”
He did screw up.
He had openly defied Han Yoo-rim and sided with Kang-hyuk.
“You definitely did something, huh?”
Four years of friendship had given Hyung-wook excellent instincts.
The moment Jaewon hesitated, he immediately knew something was up.
“Uh… kinda.”
“Then this must’ve been a huge screw-up.”
“What did the email say?”
“It says that, starting now, you’ll be taking every single night shift at the Severe Trauma Center.”
“…What?”
Jaewon blinked, wondering if he had misheard.
“I have to take all the night shifts?”
“Yeah.”
“But… don’t we have night shifts every day?”
“Obviously, dumbass. That center never closes. 365 days, 24/7. You didn’t know?”
“I mean… that doesn’t make sense.”
Up until now, the night shifts were assigned on days without outpatient duties or surgeries.
Sure, those “off days” were still filled with research, lecture prep, and various academic tasks.
But senior professors seemed to believe that research and lecture prep could be done at any hour of the day, even in the middle of the night.
“That’s exactly why I’m telling you—you better go and beg for mercy.”
“I don’t think that’ll work…”
“Did you slap him or something? Unless it was that bad, just go and apologize. If you actually take all those night shifts… forget the patients—you’ll be the one who dies.”
Hyung-wook had originally intended to say, “Both you and the patients will die.”
But after a second thought, he changed his wording.
After all, even with rotating night shifts, patients still died all the time.
Everyone said it was because they arrived at the hospital in critical condition.
But sometimes, he couldn’t shake the thought—”Would they have survived if someone else had been on duty?”
“Yeah, I’d probably die.”
Jaewon nodded vigorously at Hyung-wook’s words.
And then—
Kang-hyuk, who had been listening from a distance, suddenly cut in.
“Quit jinxing yourself with all this dying nonsense. What’s going on?”
Naturally, Jaewon was not thrilled about this interruption.
Still, even while keeping the call connected, he looked up at Kang-hyuk with an extremely polite expression.
Kang-hyuk was the kind of man who was too terrifying to show any attitude toward.
“Uh… Professor. I’m still on the phone…”
“Is this about a patient?”
“No.”
“Then is the person on the line more important than me?”
“…No.”
“Then hang up.”
The more he thought about it, the more it seemed like there was no reason not to.
Jaewon quickly muttered a “Talk later” to Hyung-wook before ending the call.
“What’s going on?”
When Jaewon looked up, he was met with Kang-hyuk’s deep frown.
Objectively speaking, the man was actually quite handsome.
But more than that—he was just downright scary.
“Ah… well… Professor Han Yoo-rim…”
“Han Yoo-rim? Oh, you mean the department head. What about him?”
“He sent out an email.”
“What kind of email? Something about you being an insolent brat?”
“Of course not. A professor wouldn’t send something like that.”
At Jaewon’s response, Kang-hyuk’s expression darkened slightly—as if he actually had expected exactly that.
Jaewon found himself thinking, ‘Actually… if it were Kang-hyuk, he probably would send an email like that.’
Clearing his throat, he continued.
“He assigned me to every single night shift at the Severe Trauma Center. Without exception. What do I do?”
Jaewon was making the most miserable expression he could muster.
If a passerby saw him right now, they might have thought he had just lost both of his parents.
But Kang-hyuk?
He looked completely unaffected.
“And?”
“…What?”
“He scheduled you for night shifts every day, 365 days a year.”
Jaewon’s mind went blank for a second.
‘Does this man… not understand what I just said?’
Thinking that Kang-hyuk might have missed something, Jaewon enunciated each word very clearly this time.
“Professor, he assigned me every single night shift for the entire year.”
Finally, Kang-hyuk gave a look of understanding.
Then, tapping his forehead with his fingers, he muttered—
“Ah… right, you were in Proctology.”
“Why is that coming up here…?”
Jaewon was about to protest when he met Kang-hyuk’s gaze.
From Kang-hyuk’s perspective, he was simply looking at him.
But to Jaewon, it felt like he was being glared at.
“Hey, Anus.”
“Uh—yes, sir!”
Jaewon instinctively straightened up and answered with excessive respect.
Kang-hyuk’s usual gangster-like demeanor had suddenly shifted—now, he radiated the presence of a true trauma surgeon.
“Listen. The field of trauma surgery that you chose…”
His voice was as sharp as a blade.
Each word felt like it was drilling into Jaewon’s eardrums.
Jaewon couldn’t help but wonder—was this really the same man he had been talking to just moments ago?
“Being on call 365 days a year—that’s the norm. Especially here in Korea, you need to be prepared to take in patients 24/7, all year round, on your own. Did you forget? Do you remember what happened earlier this year?”
Kang-hyuk didn’t elaborate.
But Jaewon immediately understood who he was referring to.
The one doctor who had spent the last ten years fighting to keep trauma surgery alive in an unchanging, ungrateful system.
A sudden wave of shame crept down Jaewon’s spine.
“And you…”
Kang-hyuk lightly tapped Jaewon’s shoulder.
“You still don’t know your place.”
‘Don’t know my place? What the hell is that supposed to mean?’
Jaewon found the comment completely out of nowhere.
Confused, he looked up at Kang-hyuk.
The man simply grinned before continuing.
“That night duty—I won’t let you take it alone. Not until I say you’re ready.”
“Ah…”
Not taking it alone meant… Kang-hyuk would be taking it with him.
He was offering to be his backup—covering shifts together.
The fear that had been gripping Jaewon’s chest ever since his call with Hyung-wook suddenly evaporated, replaced with an unexpected sense of relief.
“Send a reply. Say you understand and that you’ll do your best.”
“Yes, Professor. Thank you.”
“Thank me for what? I was going to be on call alone anyway—now I just have to drag you along with me.”
With that, Kang-hyuk started walking at a slow pace.
Jaewon hurried after him.
“Where are you going?”
“The ICU. I’ve only heard about the patient. I need to see them myself.”
“Ah… yes, of course.”
“You’re coming too, right?”
“Yes, yes! Of course.”
Jaewon lowered his head slightly as he followed behind Kang-hyuk.
His broad back looked incredibly reliable.
‘So this is just how trauma surgery works, huh?’
With that thought, Han Yoo-rim’s petty revenge no longer seemed so bad.
After all, he was going to be on night duty anyway—now, the entire hospital knew about it.
If he was going to suffer, he might as well suffer in a way that got him recognized.
‘And it’s not like I’m a stranger to suffering.’
Becoming a board-certified surgeon wasn’t something just anyone could do.
So Jaewon was confident.
No matter how brutal the road ahead was, he wouldn’t collapse.
—
But once it actually began, he realized—this was no joke.
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP.
The first thing he had to do was switch his phone from vibrate to ringtone mode.
If it was on vibrate, there was a very real chance he wouldn’t wake up in time.
“Yes, this is Yang Jaewon…”
“Dr. Yang, it’s Jang-mi. I’m sorry, but… another car accident just came in.”
“…Another one?”
Jaewon rubbed his drowsy eyes and checked the clock.
It was already 3 AM.
They had just performed emergency surgery on a trauma patient who arrived at 11 PM, got them stabilized in the ICU by 2 AM, and now he had managed to sleep for all of thirty minutes.
Jang-mi, fully aware of that timeline, didn’t take offense at the frustration in his voice.
“Yes. 119 says they’ll be arriving soon, so you should hurry over.”
“Got it.”
“You’ll be calling Professor Baek yourself, right?”
“Uh… yeah.”
Jaewon turned to look at the couch in the corner—only to see Kang-hyuk sitting up like a ghost.
The man had been asleep, yet he somehow woke up instantly, as if he had just been waiting for the call.
And despite everything, he didn’t even yawn.
‘Is he… a monster?’
Jaewon barely stopped himself from saying it out loud.
As he swallowed the words, Kang-hyuk clapped him on the shoulder.
“What’s the status? Patient’s here?”
“Uh, no. 119 is bringing them in…”
“How many?”
“Huh? Probably just one…?”
“It was a car accident, right? You think people crash alone?”
“Oh.”
Now that he thought about it—he hadn’t even considered that.
Most traffic accidents involved multiple people.
Jaewon scrambled to make a call, but Kang-hyuk shook his head firmly.
“What’s the point? We’ll find out when we get there. Move.”
“…Yes, sir.”
“You’re not running? You want your professor to take the lead?”
“Ah! No, sir! I’m running!”
“Good. If you wanna stay alive, you run. That way, you’ll save more patients.”
“If I keep running like this in the middle of the night, I think I might drop dead instead…”
“I’ve done it. You’ll be fine.”
“You’re a mon—”
“…What?”
“Nothing, sir! Let’s go!”