Chapter 8
“W-What are you saying right now…?”
Director Choi Jo-eun widened his eyes, staring at Kang-hyuk.
However, he couldn’t raise his voice.
The microphone was too close.
Kang-hyuk, completely ignoring Choi’s reaction, simply looked ahead.
The seating was arranged in stepped rows, much like a movie theater.
Almost everyone was murmuring.
> “That lunatic showed up late and refuses to apologize?”
> “What’s with his hair? He definitely just rolled out of bed.”
> “Why the hell did the director bring in someone like him? Isn’t he from Mu-an University? What even is Mu-an University? Sounds embarrassing just to say it.”
> “Who knows… and what’s with this ‘Trauma Surgery’ nonsense? Is that even a real specialty?”
> “Exactly. They probably got some government funding and needed to justify it by hiring some poor bastard. Just a disposable pawn. He’ll be kicked out the moment the Trauma Center gets reviewed.”
> “Ah… That actually makes sense now…”
The ones criticizing the loudest were, unsurprisingly, the surgery professors.
To them, having a Mu-an University graduate join their department was unacceptable.
They took pride in being Hanguk University graduates and faculty members.
And now, that very person had the audacity to act this arrogant?
Perfect excuse to tear him down.
“Hmm.”
As expected, Kang-hyuk wasn’t fazed in the slightest.
No, rather—he looked even more confident than before.
“It’s really noisy. Must be because we’re underground—voices are echoing.”
He spoke shamelessly, and despite their outrage, people went silent.
Of course, now they weren’t just watching him—they were glowering at him.
“I arrived at Hanguk University Hospital at 7 AM today.”
“Then why are you late?!”
Professor Han Yoo-rim, a colorectal surgeon, shouted.
As one of the most influential professors, his words carried weight.
But Kang-hyuk had no interest in hospital politics or power structures.
So he simply ignored him and continued.
“Since I was hired as a trauma surgery professor, I went to the ER first. And what I saw there… was a disaster.”
At the word ‘disaster’, murmurs erupted again.
Turning around, Kang-hyuk spotted Choi Jo-eun, sweating profusely.
> ‘What the hell…? Why is someone from Doctors Without Borders like this?’
Usually, people who joined Doctors Without Borders were known to be kind and compassionate.
But Baek Kang-hyuk… was the farthest thing from that.
Before Choi could even wipe his sweat, the worst happened—Kang-hyuk kept talking.
“A critical trauma patient arrived at the ER. The only ones attending to them? A single emergency medicine resident and a general surgery fellow—who clearly had zero experience in trauma care.”
More murmurs.
Choi was now ghostly pale.
This wasn’t just arrogance anymore.
Kang-hyuk was exposing the hospital’s incompetence—right in front of the Minister.
Choi turned back, hoping Minister Choi Pil-du wasn’t taking it seriously.
Instead, the Minister was standing there, arms crossed, with an amused expression.
To Choi, that look screamed:
> ‘So… you’ve been shoving all that government funding straight up your ass, huh?’
“After asking around, I found out this hospital doesn’t even have a dedicated trauma surgery team.”
Silence.
“Instead, a random rotation of general, thoracic, and neurosurgery fellows handle trauma cases—people who have no proper training in trauma care.”
The room was dead silent now.
“That explained why those two were botching it so badly. They simply didn’t know any better.”
Kang-hyuk’s eyes swept across the audience.
“I couldn’t just stand there and watch them kill someone.”
“So I performed a surgery and saved a life.”
“That’s why I was late.”
His voice rang loud and clear.
“And that’s why I won’t apologize.”
Kang-hyuk bowed deeply—his posture perfectly respectful.
If anyone had just walked in, they would’ve thought he was an incredibly polite man.
But right now, that attitude only made things worse.
“You—You bastard…!”
Some professors finally snapped.
But Kang-hyuk?
He didn’t even spare them a glance.
He simply walked out of the auditorium.
The most flustered person in the room?
Director Choi Jo-eun.
He was already under fire for hiring an outsider under pressure from the Ministry of Health and Welfare.
And that so-called outsider had just shat all over the hospital’s reputation.
‘Goddamn it…’
Wiping his sweat, Choi picked up the microphone Kang-hyuk had left behind.
“Everyone, let’s all calm down…”
“Calm down?!”
Of course, the one shouting was none other than Han Yoo-rim.
As the head of general surgery, he probably saw it as his duty to react this way.
And to be fair…
Kang-hyuk was now part of their department.
“This… This is outrageous.”
“Where the hell did you find such an unhinged bastard?”
“Well… I think we should wait and see before making judgments…”
“Wait and see? We all just saw what happened! Who the hell recommended that lunatic—”
Han abruptly stopped herself.
Because he suddenly remembered.
Baek Kang-hyuk was personally recommended by Minister Choi Pil-du.
Unlike previous Ministers, Choi wasn’t just a politician—he was a former President of the Korean Medical Association.
He was widely respected among doctors because he understood how the system worked.
Even Han Yoo-rim wasn’t reckless enough to pick a fight with him.
“Ahem… Anyway, Director Choi.”
As the room quieted down, Minister Choi Pil-du placed a firm hand on Director Choi’s shoulder.
Even though doctors typically didn’t care much for politics, there wasn’t a single person in that room who didn’t recognize the Minister.
The room, which was already tense, fell into absolute silence.
“Y-Yes, Minister…?”
“Professor Baek’s words were… quite blunt.”
His voice carried through the entire auditorium.
“But from what I can see—he didn’t say anything wrong.”
“Ah… yes.”
“As he was personally recommended by me, I hope you all support him well so that by next year’s National Assembly audit, we can all hold our heads high. Let’s work towards that, shall we?”
“Yes, Minister.”
“I’ll be looking forward to it.”
“Y-Yes, of course.”
Like most government officials, Minister Choi Pil-du left the auditorium as if every second of his time was precious.
He walked out, leaving behind Choi Jo-eun, standing frozen in disbelief.
Professor Han Yoo-rim and the other surgeons, mirroring Choi’s bewilderment, exchanged glances.
Each had different thoughts, but one thing was universally understood:
> ‘Baek Kang-hyuk’s backer is the Minister himself!’
As the entire hospital staff spiraled into a massive misunderstanding, Kang-hyuk was already making his way toward the ICU, located beside the ER.
Since he hadn’t received his white coat during the appointment ceremony, he was still in his suit.
Choi Jo-eun, who had been holding onto his coat, was too dazed to remember to hand it over.
It was anyone’s guess when he would finally get it.
Ding-dong.
Kang-hyuk finally located the ICU and pressed the intercom button.
As expected, ICUs were restricted areas, and without a hospital ID card, one had to request permission to enter.
“This is the Emergency ICU. Who is this?”
A nurse’s exhausted voice came through the speaker.
Although it was technically called the Emergency ICU, in reality, it accommodated critically ill patients from all departments.
It was just a name—it functioned the same as any other ICU.
“This is Baek Kang-hyuk, Trauma Surgery Professor. I’m here to check on a patient.”
“Who?”
“Baek Kang-hyuk.”
“Hmm.”
The nurse let out a small groan.
She had been working at this hospital for over five years, but she had never heard of a Trauma Surgery department.
Nor had she ever heard the name Baek Kang-hyuk.
Looking at the intercom screen, she noticed that Kang-hyuk wasn’t wearing a white coat, just a suit.
Then, a certain rumor crossed her mind.
> ‘I heard some overly persistent pharmaceutical reps have tried sneaking into the ICU before…’
Now that she thought about it, Kang-hyuk did look the part.
A sharply dressed, good-looking man with long, unkempt hair?
He looked far too put-together to be a doctor.
If someone like that worked here, everyone in the hospital would have known about him already.
“There’s no Trauma Surgery department in this hospital.”
She flatly refused and was about to hang up the intercom when—
“Hey, I said I’m here to see a patient!”
Kang-hyuk shouted, looking utterly offended.
Hearing his tone, the nurse’s irritation skyrocketed.
“Don’t raise your voice in front of the ICU!”
“Then don’t block me from seeing my patient.”
“Who are you even here to see? Name, please.”
“Name, hmm…”
For the first time, Kang-hyuk looked genuinely troubled.
It never occurred to him to check the patient’s name.
Thinking back, it was actually ridiculous.
> ‘I just opened up someone’s chest without even knowing their name…’
“Just make something up already. You don’t know, do you?”
The nurse smirked, ready to hang up the intercom again.
Seeing her about to cut him off, Kang-hyuk panicked.
“W-Wait a second! Why are you so impatient?”
“Impatient? Do you have any idea how busy an ICU is? Just give up and leave.”
“Ah, fine. The trauma patient from this morning’s surgery—they’re here, right?”
“There was a trauma patient admitted. So what? Do you know their name?”
“…I know the doctor who brought them in.”
“Then say the name.”
At that, Kang-hyuk’s expression twisted in frustration.
If he had known this would happen, he would’ve memorized names instead of just showing off his skills.
Only one word came to mind.
“Uh… Anus?”
“…Excuse me, WHAT did you just say?”
“I mean—!”
At this point, even Kang-hyuk realized it was hopeless.
He sighed, giving up and looking down the hallway—
And there he was.
Anus.
No, Yang Jaewon, the surgery fellow, stood there.
“Hey, Anus!”
“Huh?”
Despite the unexpected call, Anus responded immediately.
Considering he had spent his entire life being called either Jaewon or Yang-jae, it was almost surreal that he recognized the nickname so quickly.
“Yeah, you! You know me, right?”
With a relieved expression, Kang-hyuk strode toward him.
But something strange was happening.
Anus looked even more relieved—no, thrilled to see Kang-hyuk.
“Professor Baek!”
“…What?”
“You came at the perfect time!”
Jaewon practically ran toward him.
Kang-hyuk narrowed his eyes.
“Why do you look so happy? What’s going on?”
“We just got a call—a patient emergency!”
“Why are you so excited about it?”
“A hiker fell from a cliff in Bukhansan Mountain and is currently being rescued.”
“Hmm.”
Kang-hyuk’s playful demeanor immediately vanished.
His expression turned cold and focused.
“The damage is severe, and the paramedics aren’t sure if the patient will survive.”
“And the helicopter?”
“It’s about to take off now. Only the rescue team is on-site, but they can’t reach the patient yet.”
Kang-hyuk nodded.
“Then tell them to bring the patient here.”
“Wait—without treating them first?”
Jaewon looked at him like he was crazy.
But Kang-hyuk was dead serious.
“If the patient’s condition is that bad, we need to treat them inside the helicopter.”
“You’re kidding, right? You want to go on the helicopter?”
“Not kidding. Pack the gear. The moment they arrive, we’re flying out.”