Chapter 83
Double chapters for this week! Enjoy guys! (03/24/2025 - 03/28/2025)
“Huh? You want me to come down right now?”
Of course, Kang-hyuk made a call.
To Han Yoo-rim.
“You can see for yourself right now.”
It was a video call.
Thanks to that, Han Yoo-rim could see the gruesome wound up close.
He’d only heard that video call quality had gotten better these days, but experiencing it firsthand wasn’t enjoyable at all.
He felt miserable.
‘Wasn’t I just supposed to arrange patients to the appropriate department or doctor?’
To be honest, he was a department head, wasn’t he?
Here, a department head was more like a senior manager or executive in a company.
And now he was being told to go down and take care of such a severe patient.
What kind of nonsense was this?
“Just come down!”
Apparently, it wasn’t nonsense at all, judging by how forcefully Kang-hyuk repeated himself.
“Come… down?”
“Yeah. Yes, come down.”
“But I’m a [colorectal surgeon]. Just looking at that…”
“I know [colorectal surgery] handles [rectal cancer] too. You can do at least this much. Be honest, you’re capable.”
“Uh…”
Han Yoo-rim found himself at a loss for words for the first time.
Just as Kang-hyuk said, he’d done plenty of [rectal cancer] surgeries.
When he was younger, he took a lot of pride in his skills.
But he’d stepped back a bit these days.
‘How long am I supposed to keep operating at the front lines…’
Some of his seniors had never stepped back, continuing to take on the toughest surgeries with masterful skill.
But in the end, nobody could beat aging.
If you made one mistake, you’d instantly be considered a has-been in your department.
Meanwhile, those who got into hospital politics and landed positions climbed higher and higher.
Naturally, Han Yoo-rim was in the latter group.
“Just come down!”
That’s how it had been until just now.
“Ah… okay…”
But having replied without thinking, he was now left feeling rather confused.
His mind was filled with thoughts like, ‘Is it really okay for me to join such a difficult operation?’
He’d just wanted to finish out his tenure and become chief administrator without any trouble.
He never imagined he’d get dragged into an emergency surgery with no preparation.
“Alright, lower abdomen’s taken care of.”
Meanwhile, the one who’d thrown Han Yoo-rim into confusion—Kang-hyuk—looked completely at ease.
“So, will you be handling the upper abdomen yourself, Professor?”
“Of course. Who else could do it?”
Kang-hyuk answered as he took over from Jung-heon, whose hands were covered in blood, to apply pressure to the wound.
It sounded arrogant, but Jung-heon could only nod in agreement.
‘Yeah, except for Professor Baek… no one else could do it.’
He’d seen it with his own eyes.
Patients who seemed impossible to save, all still alive now.
Who else could take the credit?
In Jung-heon’s mind, only Baek Kang-hyuk came to mind.
He was better than any doctor Jung-heon had ever seen.
‘See? Even the way he applies pressure is different.’
When Jung-heon did it, blood kept oozing out of the wound.
But as soon as Kang-hyuk pressed down, it was as if a miracle had occurred—the bleeding stopped.
Ignoring Jung-heon’s awestruck gaze, Kang-hyuk spoke up.
“Connect to Emergency OR 1. You know who I mean by Slave, right?”
“Yes, Professor.”
The emergency medicine resident, who had already returned, responded briskly.
He then called Room 1 and spoke to a nurse.
“Can you put Slave—uh, Dr. Jaewon—on the line? Professor Baek is calling.”
Much to Jaewon’s dismay, the nurse immediately connected the call.
“Slave… I mean, Dr. Jaewon. Phone call for you.”
“Sigh… Yes, hand it over.”
Even being called Slave, which he’d long since gotten used to—or rather, resigned himself to—Jaewon answered the phone.
“Yes, this is Yang Jaewon.”
“Yeah. Slave. You said you secured another OR, right? Where is it?”
“Ah… Professor. It’s in Main Building, Room 11. I had them keep it empty.”
“Room 11. What about anesthesia?”
“Well… There are only two anesthesiologists left, so both are currently assigned to the emergency operating rooms.”
Jaewon sighed as he said this, remembering how much he’d struggled to get even two anesthesiologists.
‘Huh? Trauma surgery? Isn’t it always an emergency over there? Do you have something reserved?’
That was the response he got the moment he called.
She was only a fourth-year resident at most.
Which meant she was about four years his junior.
‘Ah… The department head told us not to send anyone unless absolutely necessary. We’re only sending two because it’s urgent. But don’t ask for any more. Absolutely none.’
After all his begging, he barely managed to get two.
What would happen if he asked to open yet another room now?
They might block Jaewon’s number for good.
But as always, Kang-hyuk didn’t care at all about Jaewon’s worries.
“Right, just ask if they can send one more.”
So Kang-hyuk brought up exactly what Jaewon had hoped to avoid.
“Professor, it’s really not the right time to ask…”
“Is there really no one left? If we leave the patient like this, they’ll die. That’s why I’m asking.”
“Uh… It’s just…”
“I don’t have a free hand either. I’m still pressing down on the wound.”
“No, that’s not what I mean… I talked to them earlier, and I really don’t think anyone is available.”
He wasn’t lying.
Just because it was anesthesia didn’t mean they could open another OR on demand.
All the staff were already assigned to scheduled surgeries.
Occasionally, a cancellation would free someone up.
By law, anesthesiology staff were supposed to be kept available for emergency surgery.
But the Ministry of Health and Welfare, which made that rule, never compensated for any of the loss that caused.
That’s why almost no one followed the rule, and most didn’t even know it existed.
“Hmm.”
It wasn’t as if Kang-hyuk was unaware of these circumstances.
He simply ignored them whenever he could get away with it.
“Hey, when’s the board exam for specialists?”
“Sorry? Why do you ask all of a sudden…”
Even as Jaewon answered, he wondered why he was saying this.
The conversation was all over the place.
How did they go from talking about anesthesiology to the board exam?
Jaewon’s brain couldn’t keep up.
But Kang-hyuk was dead serious.
“Let’s see… It’s January… Mid-January, so the exam should be over. You just took it not long ago, right?”
“Well, yeah, but… I’m in the middle of surgery, Professor.”
He stopped short of saying, so please stop bothering me.
He hoped Kang-hyuk would get the hint, but it was pointless.
“I sutured earlier, so it’s not an emergency anyway.”
Kang-hyuk truly was like a god of surgery. He knew exactly what was happening in the OR, even without looking.
“Well… that’s true…”
“Is the specialist exam over or not? Just answer that for now.”
“It’s done. By mid-January, yeah. Results should be out soon, too.”
At Jaewon’s answer, Kang-hyuk visibly brightened.
“Yeah? Then you know, that…”
“That what?”
“You know… Oh, right. Park Gyeongwon. You have Park Gyeongwon’s number, right? Give it to me.”
“Park Gyeongwon? Professor, don’t tell me… Are you planning to call someone who just finished the board exam?”
“What else would they be doing? Besides, that kid is good. If I remember their name, that’s proof.”
It was an odd standard, but also somehow undeniable.
Jaewon took a moment to dislike himself for agreeing with it before giving Kang-hyuk the number.
“This one? Okay, thanks.”
As soon as he got the number, Kang-hyuk hung up.
He then turned to the resident who had been holding the phone for him.
“Call this number, one more time.”
“Yes, Professor.”
By now, Kang-hyuk’s unreasonable requests might have been annoying.
But the resident didn’t show a hint of annoyance and dialed the number.
Unlike Jaewon, who dealt with Kang-hyuk every day, the resident saw him from a different view.
Kang-hyuk’s rough personality just seemed eccentric, and even that was overshadowed by his skill.
So the resident dialed with a look of pride, as if it were an honor.
“Yes, this is Park Gyeongwon.”
His voice sounded a little too mature for someone who had just become a specialist.
‘He did his military service, right.’
It meant he was a bit older.
In any case, it was Kang-hyuk’s turn to recruit, so he spoke in a different tone than usual.
“Hello, this is Baek Kang-hyuk from trauma surgery. Not sure if you remember me.”
“Professor Baek? Of course, I remember. Yes, what can I do for you?”
Gyeongwon sounded honored just to get a call from Kang-hyuk.
It made sense—whatever impression Gyeongwon had left on Kang-hyuk, the impression Kang-hyuk had left on him was much bigger and deeper.
“Are you free? Can you come in and assist with a surgery?”
“Right now…?”
“Wait, are you not at the hospital?”
It wasn’t unusual for residents who had just taken the board exam to go on a sort of informal vacation.
“No, I’m at the hospital. Where should I go?”
But Gyeongwon was surprisingly principled.
If he was still at the hospital when everyone else had left, that meant something.
“Main building, OR 11.”
“Alright. I’ll see you there.”
Without asking for details about the patient, Gyeongwon just said he’d come and hung up.
It had been a long time since Kang-hyuk had encountered an anesthesiologist like this.
‘See, this is the kind of person I like… Maybe I should recruit him as a fellow?’
The trauma team actually had an anesthesiology spot.
But no one ever applied, so it was as if it didn’t exist.
After all, it was a position where you had to be ready for emergencies 365 days a year.
For anesthesiologists, it was a brutal assignment.
If anyone volunteered, the first thing you’d wonder is if they were in their right mind.
‘Let’s see if I can recruit him. Shouldn’t be too hard.’
As long as he didn’t act like his usual self, it should be fine.
Though rumors might have already spread, there were always more naive people out there.
While Kang-hyuk was grinning slyly at his own scheming, Han Yoo-rim appeared—wearing the anxious look of an intern on their first ER shift.
“Wh-what took you so long? Let’s go right away!”
“R-right away? Where?”
“Where else? The operating room, obviously.”
