Chapter 85

“Three minutes. Three minutes.”

“I heard you.”

Kang-hyuk must have said “three minutes” nearly ten times before finally taking his hand away.

Pop.

As soon as he did, bleeding erupted from the exact area he had stressed was important.

“Hold it down!”

Kang-hyuk shouted, grabbing Han Yoo-rim’s hand and pressing it over the bleeding spot.

Since the nurse next to them was frozen in place, Kang-hyuk grabbed her hand as well.

“I-it’s slippery…”

Han Yoo-rim was flustered; it was much harder to maintain pressure than he’d expected.

Just a few moments ago, he thought three minutes would be nothing.

Now those three minutes felt unbearably long.

“Of course it’s slippery. There’s blood. The [adipose tissue] is all torn, too.”

(T/N: [Adipose tissue] is the body’s fat tissue; when torn, it gets very slippery and difficult to manage during surgery.)

Kang-hyuk muttered as he inspected the wound that hadn’t been clearly visible while he was covering it—correcting Han Yoo-rim’s and the nurse’s hand positions as he did.

Thanks to that, the bleeding slowed somewhat.

Drip, drip, drip.

Even so, a considerable amount of blood had already pooled on the OR floor.

It had to be at least 200 mL.

That much bleeding in the seconds it took to switch hands was a lot.

‘Still, that’s acceptable.’

Kang-hyuk looked satisfied as he glanced toward the patient’s head.

He could see Gyeongwon constantly adjusting the monitors and medications.

It was a familiar, yet strangely unfamiliar sight.

In Syria, every anesthesiologist did this. At Hanguk University Hospital, no one did.

‘I have to get him on our team, no matter what.’

Resolving this, Kang-hyuk left the OR.

“Phew.”

Maybe it was the brief disappearance of his backup, but Han Yoo-rim kept sighing.

It was a strange sight to the new nurse.

Usually, professors at that age might get angry, but rarely lost their composure.

Though, it was her first time in an emergency surgery like this.

Spurt.

Perhaps out of nerves, a thin stream of blood suddenly spurted from the area the new nurse was pressing.

It was as thin as a thread.

But it was more than enough to shake an inexperienced medical worker.

“Oh no!”

The nurse couldn’t hide her shock, and the patient’s body shifted, causing more blood to spurt out.

“Calm down! Get a grip!”

Han Yoo-rim did his best to shout encouragement.

He thought of himself as a seasoned surgeon, but with both hands occupied, that was all he could do.

What made it harder was knowing Kang-hyuk would have handled this situation differently.

Spurt.

Blood kept spurting out.

At least the new nurse had stopped moving.

Judging by her trembling fingers, she was desperately trying to block the bleeding.

‘What do I do? How do I fix this?’

Han Yoo-rim racked his brain, his eyes darting to see if Kang-hyuk was coming back.

But there was still no sign of Kang-hyuk.

In fact, not much time had passed—barely two minutes.

“Just… stay still! Don’t move!”

Thanks to decades of surgical experience, Han Yoo-rim managed to come up with the best option: just don’t move.

“Stay still? But the bleeding…”

“Look closely. It’s not that much! It just looks like a lot!”

“Ah… okay…”

The nurse finally focused on the thin but forceful jet of blood.

Despite Gyeongwon lowering the patient’s blood pressure, her [systolic pressure] was still at 80.

(T/N: [Systolic pressure] is the higher number in a blood pressure reading and refers to the pressure in the arteries when the heart contracts and pumps blood out to the body.)

Either she’d always had high blood pressure, or she was just very healthy.

But the stream itself was thin.

All the blood that had come out couldn’t even total 3 mL.

Han Yoo-rim saw that the nurse had calmed down, and continued.

“Of course, no bleeding is best. But don’t be too scared. If you panic, you can’t respond properly.”

It was something Han Yoo-rim’s own professor had once told him, back when he was still a rookie.

That professor’s hair had long since turned white—and he’d already passed away.

But that advice had stayed with Han Yoo-rim all his life.

“Ah, I… see. Thank you.”

His words were blunt, but their meaning was almost a universal truth.

The new nurse wasn’t the only one moved—other nurses in the OR were too.

Whirr.

But to Kang-hyuk, it was all nonsense.

“You couldn’t even last three minutes?”

He shook his head as the OR door slid open.

Some of the bloodstains on the floor were fresh.

Blood was still spurting out.

Swipe, swipe.

Kang-hyuk quickly dried his hands with a disposable sterile towel.

“Got bored? Is that why this happened?”

He scolded Han Yoo-rim as if it was only natural.

Han Yoo-rim couldn’t help but feel wronged.

He wasn’t the one who caused the bleeding.

But there was no way he could point a finger at the new nurse and say, “It was her!” at his age and after so many years in medicine.

Besides, public opinion in the main OR was very important.

Han Yoo-rim had no intention of ending his career as just another department head.

He always aimed higher and always watched his behavior—especially in front of people from other fields.

If they were all doctors, brute force would have been enough—but nurses couldn’t do that.

“She’s new, so mistakes happen. And see? Even with the bleeding, because she stayed still, this is all we lost.”

“If it were just new staff, maybe I’d say well done. But the department head was here too. Someone who’s been holding a scalpel for over twenty years.”

“Hey, I told her to stay still, didn’t I? That’s why the bleeding was limited!”

“Yeah, you sure spend other people’s blood freely.”

“Then what would you do? Both hands tied up!”

Just then, Kang-hyuk finished donning his gown.

He pulled the gloves snugly between his fingers and strode over.

He had a long stride, and with the OR not being very large, he reached the table in no time.

“Are you really asking because you don’t know?”

Kang-hyuk looked down at the blood jetting from the wound.

Only now did Han Yoo-rim wonder if there was another way, but it felt too late to step back.

“So… what’s your method?”

He asked, almost dreading the answer. Kang-hyuk nodded at the main scrub nurse.

“Come press here.”

The main scrub nurse briefly looked embarrassed, then simply pressed the bleeding site with her index finger—gently.

Pop.

The forceful stream of blood stopped instantly.

And Han Yoo-rim froze too.

It was so sudden it felt like his heart stopped.

Kang-hyuk looked at Han Yoo-rim with real concern.

“After surgery, let’s get you to the MRI suite together.”

He’d even switched to formal speech.

But Han Yoo-rim didn’t notice—just like when Kang-hyuk suddenly used informal speech.

He was too shaken to pick up on anything so minor.

“MRI suite? Why?”

“I wondered if you’d had a stroke or something. Otherwise, how… Ah.”

“Why are you making that face?”

“What’s your name?”

“Han Yoo-rim… Wait, no! I’m fine!”

Han Yoo-rim started to answer automatically, then shouted.

But Kang-hyuk looked deadly serious.

“Hmm. You remember your name… Cognitive function isn’t that bad yet.”

“No, I just wasn’t thinking for a second!”

“That’s the real problem…”

“This bastard…”

Han Yoo-rim finally cursed aloud, forgetting he was in front of the nurses.

Unlike Kang-hyuk, who was known as a mad dog in anesthesiology, Han Yoo-rim had a gentlemanly reputation in other departments.

Everyone looked shocked.

But no one was more shocked than Han Yoo-rim himself.

“Alright, enough of that. Did you come here to chat? You sure talk a lot in front of the patient. Give me the suture kit.”

Even though Kang-hyuk himself had started the argument, he now blamed Han Yoo-rim.

There was no way to retort, not after being told not to talk in front of the patient.

‘This damn…’

But what really left Han Yoo-rim speechless was what happened next.

Thud.

Kang-hyuk began pushing the needle in between Han Yoo-rim’s and the nurses’ fingers.

Most people wouldn’t know why he was doing it or why he chose that exact spot.

But Han Yoo-rim could tell.

He was a surgery professor, after all.

He couldn’t work the same magic with his own hands, but he could see the logic.

‘If you do it like that, bleeding from the skin can be stopped temporarily…’

Kang-hyuk’s needle and thread moved at a subtle angle—not directly piercing a major vessel, but in a way that could apply pressure if tightened.

As Han Yoo-rim expected, Kang-hyuk tugged the suture he’d just placed and spoke.

“Alright, you two, take your hands off.”

“Huh? Will it be okay?”

“It’s fine. Just let go.”

“Um…”

Both nurses had seen what happened when hands slipped just moments ago.

Even if they weren’t responsible for the patient’s outcome, their consciences wouldn’t let them relax.

But physically, they couldn’t resist Kang-hyuk as he pulled their hands away.

“Oh…”

“Just let go already. See? It’s fine, right?”

“Uh…”

“Chief Han, don’t take your hand off yet. I trust you can at least make that decision.”

“Don’t say ‘yet!’ I know what I’m doing!”

“Sure, sure. Must be tough. Anyway… this spot’s under control for now. Hm.”

Kang-hyuk looked at the torn wound he’d just managed to control.

Whatever caused it, it hadn’t just ripped the skin—he could see right into the abdominal cavity.

That meant the area Han Yoo-rim was pressing could possibly be accessed, too.

Not yet, but soon.

‘This is a greenhouse. No reason not to use the best environment possible.’

A greenhouse flower will die outside, but a wildflower grows even better inside a greenhouse.

Kang-hyuk intended to use every resource Hanguk University Hospital had.

The deficit might skyrocket.

But the patient would live.

* * * * * * *

(T/N: 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!)