Chapter 59

The pilot was truly resisting with everything he had.

“I said no!”

The co-pilot was no different.

That violent wind ahead was nearly impossible to break through with mere flying skills.

But.

As always, Kang-hyuk subjugated the two sturdy men with strange and swift movements, tossing them into the rear seats.

Thud, thump, crash.

In the process, the emergency response agent and his subordinates, who had been trying to stop Kang-hyuk, were all thrown back as well.

“Ugh…”

Jaewon groaned at the pitiful sight.

As luck would have it, he happened to be standing in the path Kang-hyuk intended to take.

Kang-hyuk gently placed a hand on Jaewon’s shoulder and asked,

“Why, Slave. You gonna stop me?”

His intentions were clear—try, and you’ll get tossed too.

“N-no.”

Jaewon shook his head desperately.

If even those burly rescue workers and ex-military pilot and co-pilot couldn’t handle Kang-hyuk, what could he possibly do?

With things already at this point, the only choice was to trust him and let him do it.

‘Somehow… it does feel like he’ll pull it off.’

To Jaewon, Kang-hyuk was a strange man.

He always did reckless things, and yet never once had he failed.

Maybe this situation, too, only looked reckless to others—and wasn’t much of a challenge for Kang-hyuk.

“Good, smart choice.”

Kang-hyuk patted Jaewon’s shoulder and headed to the cockpit.

BWAAAAANG!

The helicopter, which had been slowly turning to the side, began flying straight again.

“N-no!”

The pilot, finally coming to his senses, struggled to his feet.

Then he rushed forward to stop Kang-hyuk.

But it wasn’t easy.

WHIIIIIIIRR.

A vicious whirlwind was slamming into the aircraft.

It was hard enough just to stand, let alone walk.

Jaewon had wisely strapped himself into a seat.

Suppressing his disbelief, the pilot shouted toward him.

“Doctor! You’re the closest—stop him!”

“Do you think he’ll listen to me?”

“Use force if you have to!”

“Force?”

Jaewon held out his scrawny arm.

He was supposed to subdue Kang-hyuk with this?

That was impossible.

Dududududu.

By then, the helicopter under Kang-hyuk’s control had entered the eye of the storm.

Fwoooosh.

On top of the already noisy interior, the roar of the wind grew louder.

Now they had to cover their ears by hand.

Otherwise, it felt like their eardrums would burst.

Knowing full well how dangerous the situation was, the pilot shouted even though he knew no one would hear.

“You lunatic! Get out of there now!”

Flying required mobilizing every sense of the body.

Of course, the importance of each sense varied.

Vision was most critical, naturally.

But relying solely on vision often led to disaster.

Especially when visibility was unstable due to wind, it wasn’t uncommon to mistake the sea for the sky and crash into the water.

This was why hearing had to remain intact—but even that was difficult now.

“Look at the instrument panel! Just follow the gauges!”

The pilot shouted while practically crawling forward.

In situations where physical senses were unreliable, one had to rely solely on the instrument panel to fly.

It sounded easy when said aloud, but it wasn’t.

That’s because of a phenomenon caused by disoriented senses.

It was called ‘spatial disorientation.’

“Your brain might be telling you something completely different from reality! Just trust the instruments!”

Even veteran pilots could make mistakes once trapped in spatial disorientation.

There had been cases where pilots with over thousands of flight hours crashed into the sea.

Completely disregarding one’s bodily senses and trusting only the gauges was incredibly difficult.

“Good.”

Of course, Kang-hyuk hadn’t heard a single word of the pilot’s desperate shouting.

He was in the front seat, facing the wind head-on.

All he could hear were the sounds of the wind and the spinning propellers.

‘A little lower… The wind is weaker here.’

Contrary to the pilot’s concerns, Kang-hyuk had not fallen into spatial disorientation.

In fact, he was flying with exceptional stability.

The shaking was only due to the wind—without it, the ride would’ve been perfectly smooth.

‘Good. I can see. I can see.’

Even in a situation where most would’ve shut their eyes tight, Kang-hyuk remained calm.

His extraordinarily developed eyesight made it possible.

It was more tiring than when performing surgery because he had to take in a wider field of view.

But it wasn’t unbearable.

Tatatatata.

Kang-hyuk lowered the helicopter’s altitude until it was nearly skimming the sea surface.

At this altitude, the wind was so weak it could be compared to a baby’s breath.

Even the gusts that had been relentlessly pounding the aircraft’s side had begun to subside.

Naturally, the once violently shaking helicopter also regained its stability.

“Phew.”

Only then did the pilot, having barely gotten to his feet, let out a sigh.

To those in the back, those ten minutes had felt like a thousand years.

“This crazy bastard…”

The pilot cursed as he trudged forward.

Then he was struck speechless by the vast West Sea spread out before him.

“Wh-where are we now?!”

Kang-hyuk turned back with an infuriatingly relaxed expression.

“The West Sea. Where else?”

“Eyes on the front! Front!”

“What’s there to see in the water…”

“Just look forward! Please! I’m gonna die of anxiety!”

The pilot cried out while massaging his trembling legs.

Only then did Kang-hyuk look forward again.

“Okay, okay. You suddenly asked where we were, I thought you had dementia or something.”

“Dementia my ass… I meant why the hell are we flying right above the water! That’s what I was asking!”

The pilot looked down through the small window in the door.

The helicopter’s skid was practically grazing the ocean’s surface.

No—it was touching it.

When the waves rose.

In other words, the helicopter was now gliding just above the sea surface.

“Ah, you’re asking why we’re flying over the sea? Well, we can’t go under it, can we? What, you think this is a submarine?”

Kang-hyuk tilted his head.

That look came off as outright mocking, and the pilot was furious.

Alongside that anger, a sharp fear crept in.

He felt Kang-hyuk might lower the altitude even more.

“Y-you lunatic! Don’t descend! Don’t you dare!”

“I’m not descending. You sure like to curse, huh? Can a public servant really talk like that?”

“I’m cursing because you’re insane! We’re all gonna die!”

“Die? Who’s dying? What bad luck. We’re almost there now.”

Kang-hyuk pointed toward the front windshield.

As he said, an island was coming into view above the waters of the West Sea.

It was the exact island they had set out for from the beginning.

In other words—Baengnyeong Island.

“Fine, now gain altitude! There are too many boats!”

Just like the pilot said, there was a heavy concentration of boats near the island.

Due to the sudden change in sea weather, many had rushed to anchor at the island.

Still, the waves and wind near the island were relatively calm, so quite a few fishing boats were still operating there.

If they continued flying the helicopter at this level, they’d risk sinking three or four vessels before reaching the island.

“Okay. Ascending now. Hold on to something—anything.”

With that, Kang-hyuk pulled up the altitude.

“Mmh.”

The pilot let out a groan as he watched.

The ascent was so smooth it made his earlier panic feel embarrassing.

‘Where the hell did this guy learn to fly…’

At this rate, his flight hours had to be easily over a thousand.

Or maybe even more, judging by how calmly he’d handled such a dangerous situation.

Possibly even more than himself, the actual pilot.

‘Where the hell did this kind of monster…’

The pilot shook his head in disbelief.

Meanwhile, the helicopter successfully reached the airspace above the island.

After confirming that the area was clear, Kang-hyuk turned around again.

“We don’t know the exact location, and we still need to prepare for landing—shall we switch?”

“Ah… yeah, let’s do that…”

The pilot hurried to the front seat.

He was afraid Kang-hyuk might just let go of the controls and walk away.

But contrary to his expectations, Kang-hyuk handed them over very gently.

Then he returned to sit next to Jaewon, who had been quietly buckled up from the start.

“Slave, not too scary, right?”

“Of course it was scary! What kind of question is that? The pilot switched mid-flight… That’s a hijacking!”

“Hijacking, my ass. We just switched seats.”

“What kind of switch is that violent…”

“Shh. Just grab your stuff. We’ve got work to do once we land.”

“Uh… Aren’t we heading back right away?”

Jaewon recalled the last helicopter mission.

That time, they’d cracked open someone’s head right inside the chopper.

Thanks to that crazy stunt, the person had survived.

So naturally, he assumed they’d load the patient and return as soon as they arrived.

But unexpectedly, Kang-hyuk shook his head.

Then he pointed behind them.

“Look at that. Even I can’t break through that.”

“Huh…? Whoa.”

Jaewon turned his head and his eyes widened at the storm clouds ahead.

Just moments ago, there had only been wind over the sea—now it was filled with dark clouds.

“Rain’s coming too. And lightning. We’ll do emergency treatment here first… then play it by ear.”

If the helicopter couldn’t take off, they’d have to travel by boat.

Though in this weather, it was questionable whether any boat would be willing.

“Alright, we’re landing.”

While they were talking, the pilot began to descend onto the Marine Corps Command’s helipad.

As expected of a military facility, the landing pad was solid and spacious.

It was a stark contrast to Hanguk University Hospital, where they had to use a tennis court for landings.

‘It’d be best if hospitals had rooftop pads…’

But to do that, the rooftop would have to be reinforced to withstand the pressure and weight of a helicopter.

He knew such construction would cost at least a billion won—sometimes several billion.

So for now, just having a landing pad like this was something to be grateful for.

Tatatatata.

As the helicopter touched down, the rotor speed decreased dramatically.

Looking at the time, barely an hour and a half had passed since leaving the hospital.

It was only possible because they’d used the Central Rescue Team’s EC225 model.

Clack.

Agent Jung-heon immediately opened the door and jumped out.

He carried the equipment and stretcher already stored in the helicopter.

Kang-hyuk also jumped down with Jaewon.

Waiting for them were several medics from the Marine Corps Command.

One of them was covered in blood—face, arms, legs, everything.

He held the rank of captain and was likely the military doctor who had first responded.

“Sir! Captain Lee Kang-haeng reporting! Treatment for minor injuries is complete. As for the severely wounded… we’re still working on it! I’ll guide you!”