Chapter 71

<Didn’t it just move?>

Comments expressing doubt began to steadily increase in the chat window.

It was because Private Kim, who they thought was either dead or nearly dead, was moving little by little.

Moreover, he even seemed to be mumbling something.

“Should I keep moving?”

At Private Kim’s words, Kang-hyuk shook his head.

“No. You still haven’t corrected the broken bones yet. We don’t have the tools for that here.”

“Ah…”

“If you mess around and injure a nerve again, there’ll be no fixing it. Just stay still.”

“Y-Yes.”

“If you’re that bored, should I give you some medicine? One shot of that and you could probably sleep until we reach Incheon Port. Should be about an hour left.”

At Kang-hyuk’s casual remark, Captain Kim Young-jae, who had been silent until now, flinched.

It was because, just as he said, they would reach Incheon Port in about an hour from now.

‘Did he just guess?’

That was the only way he could think of it.

For an ordinary person, it was nearly impossible to estimate a ship’s speed.

“N-No, I’m good. No medicine, sir.”

Private Kim shook his head.

He had a fundamental aversion to things like sleeping pills.

At that, Kang-hyuk replied with a look that said he didn’t quite understand.

“It’s not like you’d get addicted. Why bother suffering?”

“No, still…”

“Well, that’s your choice. But if you start getting seasick, it’ll be rough, so at least put this on.”

Speaking as if he didn’t care either way, Kang-hyuk attached a patch below Private Kim’s ear.

It was an [anticholinergic drug], and it worked quite well if used before seasickness set in.
(T/N: A medication that helps prevent nausea and vomiting, especially motion sickness)

Of course, in very rare cases, it could cause side effects like delirium.

‘If that happens, I’ll just sedate him.’

Since it wasn’t happening to him, Kang-hyuk thought about it quite lightly.

“Hmm.”

Anyway, all the work to be done on the ship was finished.

He had sutured the torn artery that had caused massive bleeding and reconnected the cleanly severed nerve.

Feeling unusually refreshed, Kang-hyuk leaned lightly against the ship’s railing and welcomed the sea breeze.

‘As expected, I’m a genius.’

He was having a slightly cocky thought.

However, no one who had seen his surgery could think of it as arrogance.

They could only admire him repeatedly.

Captain Lee Kang-haeng was no exception.

“P-Professor.”

He cautiously approached Kang-hyuk, who had a leisurely expression.

Normally, he would have been snapped at immediately.

But this time was a little different.

It was a moment when Kang-hyuk was full of self-satisfaction.

“What.”

“Um… About the [nerve anastomosis] you showed earlier…”
(T/N: Nerve anastomosis is a surgical procedure to reconnect severed nerves in hopes of restoring function.)

“Oh, that. What about it.”

Kang-hyuk turned to look at Captain Lee Kang-haeng with an exaggeratedly smug attitude.

“How… did you do it? I’ve never seen damaged nerves recover functionality like that.”

In general surgery, there weren’t many cases dealing with motor nerves.

Unlike orthopedics or neurosurgery, they didn’t usually deal with areas where nerve bundles passed.

But it wasn’t like he had no experience at all.

‘If that were possible… there wouldn’t be anyone left with vocal cord paralysis.’

Kang-haeng recalled the cases of vocal cord paralysis he had seen during thyroid surgeries back when he was a resident.

The number wasn’t extremely high, but it wasn’t low either.

Every now and then, a nerve would inevitably be severed.

‘I saw it happen myself.’

Fortunately, Kang-haeng hadn’t been the one to sever it; it was a case where the attending surgeon had.

Of course, they immediately performed nerve anastomosis in the operating room.

But, as expected, functionality did not return.

Nerve anastomosis was done to prevent the muscle governed by the severed nerve from atrophying, not to actually restore nerve function.

At least, that’s what Kang-haeng had believed until he saw Kang-hyuk’s surgery.

Since that ‘truth’ had been shattered, Kang-haeng was left in utter shock.

“I just reconnected it properly. Exactly the way it was.”

Kang-hyuk responded with a nonchalant tone, as if Kang-haeng’s shocked expression meant nothing to him.

It was an incredibly half-hearted answer, but Kang-haeng didn’t mind.

“S-So how did you manage to do it properly…?”

“I told you. I just connected it back the way it originally was.”

“The way it originally was…? No way… That’s impossible.”

What Kang-hyuk was saying was that he had sutured the severed nerve without a single neuron misaligned.

It was the most absurd thing Kang-haeng had ever heard.

“He’s moving, isn’t he? Then it’s not impossible.”

“Ah.”

But there was irrefutable proof right before his eyes.

Kang-haeng stared at Kang-hyuk’s face for a moment.

Wondering if he was wearing a magnifying loupe or something.

“What are you staring at?”

“N-No… I just… I don’t know how to understand this…”

“If you were a genius like me, it would be easy to understand. Too bad.”

In other words, ‘You’re an idiot.’

But Kang-haeng didn’t even feel offended.

His mind was completely consumed by the miraculous skill Kang-hyuk had demonstrated.

‘He’s better than any doctor I’ve ever seen… This man would be the best no matter where he went in the world.’

And those thoughts started to move in the same direction as the one currently riding the helicopter to the hospital: Slave.

Eventually, Kang-haeng made exactly the same mistake that Jaewon had made before.

“H-Hey, um. If I go to Hanguk University Hospital’s Severe Trauma Center… would I be able to learn things like this?”

“Huh?”

Kang-hyuk looked at Kang-haeng with an expression that said, ‘Is this for real?’

Then, from the conversation they had earlier, he recalled only the information he deemed necessary.

‘He said he was in his third year, right?’

That meant he would be discharged this May.

Given the nature of general surgery, he wouldn’t be able to start making money immediately, so he would have no choice but to enter a university hospital and receive further training.

‘So he’s interested in trauma surgery.’

Whenever Kang-hyuk saw these half-crazed fellows, he always found it genuinely delightful.

Honestly, if they were in their right minds, trauma surgery—the kind that required flying to Baengnyeong Island in a helicopter—would be the first department they’d avoid.

Yet here he was, seeing someone’s eyes sparkle just from watching a surgery on a ship.

‘Slave No. 2.’

Kang-hyuk chuckled and looked at Kang-haeng.

This time, unlike before, his gaze was filled with a fabricated affection.

A normal person would have sensed something strange.

Unfortunately, Kang-haeng wasn’t sharp enough.

“So, you’re asking if you can learn this kind of stuff if you join trauma surgery?”

“Yes, Professor.”

“Why are you even asking? It’s obvious.”

“I-It’s obvious?”

“Of course. Absolutely.”

He would definitely learn a lot.

However, one thing could be said for certain: he would never learn the nerve anastomosis technique that had just been demonstrated.

Because to perform that, you had to be able to actually see it.

You needed something like Kang-hyuk’s nearly abnormal [color hypersensitivity].
(T/N: An extreme sensitivity to color differentiation, allowing microscopic detail recognition)

“Oh…”

But like everyone else, Kang-haeng wasn’t someone capable of noticing things that weren’t explained to him.

So he just stayed thrilled.

Kang-hyuk decided to drive the nail in further.

“You know the guy who flew ahead on the helicopter?”

“Ah, um…”

Kang-haeng was about to say his name, only to realize the only title he remembered was ‘Slave,’ making him flustered.

Kang-hyuk just smiled at the sight.

“Jaewon. Yang Jaewon.”

If Jaewon were here now, he would have grabbed Kang-hyuk by the collar.

After always calling him ‘Slave,’ now using his real name only when recruiting another slave?

But Jaewon wasn’t here, and Kang-hyuk continued.

“I hate to brag, but… that guy’s only been learning from me for a month. And he’s already flying on a helicopter solo. That’s pretty amazing.”

“Ah, now that you mention it, he’s flying alone…”

Kang-haeng unconsciously looked up at the sky.

Judging from the time they had left, the helicopter probably had already arrived at the hospital.

Kang-hyuk left Kang-haeng to his thoughts for now.

After all, he was in the middle of recruiting.

“Think about that patient from earlier. He had brain surgery and immediately got on a helicopter. No one can predict what might happen. But I can trust him.”

“Only… one month?”

Kang-haeng muttered ‘one month’ with a disbelieving expression before looking up at Kang-hyuk.

At that moment, the setting sun shone behind Kang-hyuk, creating a halo-like effect.

“How many applicants are there this year? I want to learn too.” (T/N: The scam is scamming. HAHAHAHA)

Kang-hyuk suppressed the urge to say ‘Perfect’ and tilted his head thoughtfully.

There was actually no need to even pretend—there were zero applicants.

But at times like this, there was no need to tell the truth.

“I’ll have to check… there’ve been a lot of inquiries from other hospitals.”

He wasn’t lying.

There were plenty of inquiries.

About whether they could send patients.

So he didn’t consider it a lie.

“Still, considering what Captain Lee showed today, it’s worth thinking about. He handled an emergency pretty well, even without being a trauma specialist.”

“R-Really?”

“Yeah. We’re heading to the hospital together, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then you can observe while you’re there. See how we work. And sign a contract while you’re at it.”

“Understood. Thank you!”

Kang-haeng kept bowing without even realizing what he was getting into.

Meanwhile, the ship safely arrived at Incheon Port.

Since they had called ahead, an ambulance was already waiting.

If they could, it would have been better to continue by helicopter, but Kang-hyuk decided to just take the car.

After all, the surgeries requiring split-second timing were already done.

The rest could be handled at a more relaxed pace.

“Can you walk?”

“Huh? My legs are fine.”

“Good, let’s go.”

Captain Lee Kang-haeng, along with the nurse officers, helped Private Kim into the ambulance.

Kang-hyuk followed right behind them.

At this point, many people found the situation utterly baffling.

<What the hell? He’s fine?>

<Did we all just get played?>

There were some defenses to this view.

The whole situation reeked of TV Goryeo’s meddling.

Yet, there was some persuasive truth to it.

<Let’s follow along for now. See what kind of treatment he’s getting. At least he really did have surgery in that filthy place on the ship.>

<That’s true.>

Thus, reporter Park Sang-eun decided to transfer into a car and continue chasing Kang-hyuk.

Since everything was still being broadcast live, Professor Hong Jae-hoon, Director of Hanguk University Hospital’s Administration Office, and Professor Han Yoo-rim could watch it all unfold.

“What’s going on?”

Hong Jae-hoon spoke first.

“Not sure? He’s alive, though.”

“That’s… he’s coming here, right?”

“Yeah, that’s… hmm?”

Professor Han Yoo-rim trailed off mid-reply and looked out the window.

Tatata-tatata.

The helicopter carrying Jaewon and Sergeant Lee was landing on the hospital’s tennis court.