Chapter 80

“This is Baek Kang-hyuk.”

Kang-hyuk picked up the phone immediately.

The number saved as ‘119 Situation Room’ was actually the Central Rescue Team.

Aside from them, there was really no one who would contact Kang-hyuk directly.

All minor calls and reports were rerouted through the Emergency Medicine Department.

“Professor, it’s Jung-heon.”

“The team leader himself, huh. What kind of patient is it?”

Jung-heon sounded a bit flustered.

After all, since last night, Baek Kang-hyuk had been the most talked-about figure in Korea.

Even Jung-heon had been debating whether to send him a quick message of praise.

But the man in question skipped all pleasantries and immediately asked about the patient.

‘Hard to tell if he’s admirable or just strange…’

Honestly, he was a pretty rude guy.

Even the helicopter pilots constantly grumbled that they’d never met anyone like him.

But when asked if that meant they no longer wanted to work with him, they always said no.

‘No matter what, he’s sincere.’

It wasn’t like no doctors had ever worked with the Central Rescue Team before.

Plenty had flown out in helicopters to rescue patients.

But none were quite like Kang-hyuk.

Most set clear terms for deployment—three months, six months, and so on.

But Kang-hyuk hadn’t even brought it up.

Jung-heon allowed himself a faintly pleased smile before speaking.

“If you turn on the news right now, it’s probably blowing up. A highway bus skidded off at the northern end of Cheongdam Bridge and crashed into the Han River embankment.”

Kang-hyuk tilted his head.

He vaguely remembered riding a bus into Dong Seoul Terminal before.

“A highway bus? That route doesn’t normally go there.”

“Right. But today, because of the Seoul city-sponsored snow sledding event at Jamsu Bridge, traffic was rerouted. We believe the bus ended up diverting to Yeongdong Bridge because of that.”

“Ah… But crashing? Was the driver dozing off or something?”

“There are reports of sudden gusts, but… we don’t know the exact cause yet. We’re still conducting rescue operations.”

“So what do you need from me?”

A bus crash meant it wasn’t just one or two patients.

And this was a highway bus.

There had to be at least ten passengers.

Kang-hyuk furrowed his brow.

Jaewon and Jang-mi, who were listening in via speakerphone, looked equally grim.

“We’ll be sending the mildly injured to Konkuk University Hospital.”

“That’s the closest hospital. Smart call.”

“But that hospital can’t take in all thirty emergency patients. They just told us they don’t have a single available surgeon and only one operating room.”

“Figures.”

Kang-hyuk nodded with a bitter expression.

Only one available OR in a hospital that size?

It wasn’t just Konkuk’s issue.

It was true of virtually every hospital in Korea—except Hanguk University Hospital.

To compensate for low insurance reimbursements, hospitals had no choice but to squeeze their facilities and personnel to the limit.

Hospital directors may care about public interest, but their top priority was keeping the institution afloat.

“So aside from one patient who only needs a minor procedure, we’re planning to send the rest to Hanguk University Hospital.”

Jung-heon’s voice, responding to Kang-hyuk’s sigh, carried a heavy sense of guilt.

What he really meant was that nearly all the critical patients from this accident would be sent to Hanguk University Hospital.

“So you still don’t know how many?”

“No, not yet.”

“Hmm.”

Kang-hyuk’s face twisted in concern as he looked at Jaewon.

The kid had barely been in trauma surgery for a month.

There was no way he could operate solo.

But trauma surgery was a field where hesitation could cost lives.

You couldn’t treat trauma patients like scheduled surgeries—there was no time to weigh options.

“Got it. We’ll take as many as we can. Keep communication open. Call this number, and I’ll use my personal line too.”

“Understood. I’ll contact you as things develop. Thank you.”

“No need for thanks. Seeing patients is just what doctors do.”

“That’s why I’m thanking you.”

Jung-heon hung up after leaving that cryptic remark.

Kang-hyuk looked confused, but Jaewon seemed to get it.

Thinking back to what the Severe Trauma Center used to be like before Kang-hyuk arrived—how could he not?

‘Back then, we used every excuse to avoid taking patients.’

And no one thought it was wrong.

In fact, bringing in patients they couldn’t treat was seen as worse.

Sometimes, 119 would bring patients anyway, claiming they were too critical to wait for approval.

Plenty of doctors would raise their voices, demanding to know why they were brought in the first place.

‘Now there’s someone who just says, “Send them all.” …Of course they’d be grateful.’

In a country where trauma care ran smoothly, that kind of gratitude wouldn’t even be necessary.

But in Korea, only Kang-hyuk was taking on this impossible mission.

Jaewon didn’t find Jung-heon’s thanks strange or excessive in the least.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Kang-hyuk frowned at Jaewon, who was gazing at him with something like respect—for the first time in ages.

Then he got to his feet without hesitation.

“You heard there are patients coming in, right? A bus crash. Happened right near the end of the route. There’s a high chance most passengers weren’t wearing seatbelts—so expect a ton of critical trauma cases.”

“Ah…”

Only then did Jaewon and Jang-mi let out a heavy sigh.

The two had recently seen firsthand how the nationwide seatbelt campaign had significantly reduced traffic fatalities.

But what about when a highway bus was nearing its destination?

The impatient ones always unbuckled early to prep for getting off.

And that “prep” often included taking off their seatbelt prematurely.

“So, Gangster, find out what ORs are available for immediate use.”

“Yes, Professor.”

Jang-mi nodded confidently, undeterred by the nickname.

She knew better than to expect Kang-hyuk to start calling her anything else.

More likely, she’d just be called “Gangster” even more frequently and with greater emphasis.

“Slave, find out who’s available to assist in those ORs—especially in anesthesiology.”

“Anesthesiology…”

Jaewon reacted more strongly to that word than to being called “Slave.”

“Why?”

“We’re… not on great terms.”

“Not great” was putting it mildly—it was a full-on disaster.

Anesthesiology had openly stated they’d never seen a surgeon as rude and reckless as Baek Kang-hyuk.

And by association, Jaewon was branded as his demonic lackey.

“Not on great terms? Are you crazy? We have patients coming in, and you’re worried about your relationships?”

“N-no, it’s just…”

“Shut up and call them. If there’s someone available and they won’t help, tell me.”

“W-what will you do?”

“I’ll grab them by the collar and drag them here.”

“Hah…”

If it were any other professor, everyone would think it was a joke.

But this was Baek Kang-hyuk.

Grabbing someone by the collar would probably be the least violent outcome.

Still, not calling wasn’t an option.

Because if he didn’t, the one getting grabbed by the collar wouldn’t be some anesthesiology staff—it’d be him.

“What’re you doing?”

As expected, Kang-hyuk was already growling his way toward Jaewon.

Jaewon had no choice but to retreat and scramble for his phone.

“I’m doing it! I’m calling!”

“Should’ve done that from the start. You’re the reason I lose my temper.”

“That’s…”

“That’s what? Don’t even think about moving your lips unless you want them rearranged.”

“Y-yes, sir. Hello? This is Yang Jaewon from Trauma Surgery…”

Jaewon swallowed his words and quickly continued the call.

He glanced over to see Jang-mi already deep in conversation, phone pressed to her ear.

‘She’s doing well.’

Slave—no, Jaewon—might fumble, but Jang-mi would get it done.

So far, she’d flawlessly handled every task Kang-hyuk had assigned.

Which meant now it was Kang-hyuk’s turn to do what he had to do.

‘If I could clone myself, that’d be ideal.’

Unfortunately, even Kang-hyuk wasn’t omnipotent.

He could only perform one surgery at a time.

So he needed to find others who could handle even the simpler procedures.

One might think he’d burned too many bridges for that.

But surprisingly, Kang-hyuk did have a few people he’d helped before.

“Professor Baek? What’s the occasion?”

A voice answered cheerfully—clearly happy to hear from him.

It was Department Head Han Yoo-rim of General Surgery.

“Ah, Department Head. Could you check the TV real quick?”

“The TV? I’m in the middle of some research, but… sure, I can.”

“There should be breaking news about a bus crash at Cheongdam Bridge.”

“Ah, you’re right. Whoa. That looks serious. Wait—don’t tell me…”

“Yes. The patients are being sent to our hospital. As you know, it’s just me and No—uh, Jaewon in trauma surgery. Is there anyone you can spare?”

“Ahh…”

Han Yoo-rim sighed and nodded.

He knew exactly how the rest of the department felt about Kang-hyuk.

‘They basically call him a damn bastard…’

But even knowing that, Han Yoo-rim wasn’t heartless.

After all, he’d just visited Ji-young on his way back.

She was nearly fully recovered now, even able to hold conversations.

To every staff member who’d seen her progress, it was nothing short of a miracle.

‘And that miracle… was Baek Kang-hyuk.’

Without him, his daughter would’ve died.

“All right. I’ll personally round up three or four people and send them your way.”

“Thank you, Professor.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“I’ll be waiting for your call.”

Kang-hyuk ended the call with a very satisfied look.

Just then, a message popped up on his phone—likely from Jung-heon.

> Professor, I’m texting since you were on a call. Eight passengers were ejected from the bus during the crash. Three are confirmed dead. Two are likely beyond saving. The other three are en route by ambulance. I’m counting on you.

Below that was a list of patient details and initial injury assessments from the scene.

‘No time to rest.’

Kang-hyuk turned toward the ER front desk.

WEEEOOOHH—

The sound of sirens rang out endlessly.

Among those incoming, there were surely patients only Kang-hyuk could save.

It was time to work like hell.

* * * * * * *

(T/N: I’m alive! 😂 Just dropping in with a quick update. Still not back to a regular upload schedule, but I’ll be uploading at least 5 chapters per series every week, in order based on the most recent series I picked up. No fixed days yet, but I’ll keep the bulk uploads coming as best as I can!)