Chapter 92

“Did you check with the professor?”

After all, Baek Kang-hyuk wasn’t someone you could reason with.

The nurse stopped trying to talk to him and looked toward Professor Kim.

No surgeon could be unconcerned about someone else operating in their territory.

“You can’t just let anyone handle a complex, open fracture like this. Professor Baek, please just go back and take care of your own surgery.”

Even now, as he struggled with the sudden increase in bleeding, Professor Kim’s words weren’t exactly polite.

“Of course you can’t let just anyone do it. Especially not when there’s this much bleeding.”

Baek Kang-hyuk spoke as if agreeing with him.

Kim In-soo nodded vigorously, as if he’d said something right, his eyes still fixed on the bleeding site.

The blood loss was too severe to look away, even for a moment.

“Exactly. I appreciate your help, really, and I’ll thank you properly later. But please, you should leave now.”

While stopping the bleeding, he politely asked Baek Kang-hyuk to leave.

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

But the answer he got was a bit different than he expected.

“Excuse me?”

“I meant… what’s your name again?”

“The patient?”

“No. Oh, right. Kim In-soo, Professor Kim. I was just wondering if you could handle this.”

“What? Of course I can! This is my field. I should be doing this.”

Professor Kim stared at Baek Kang-hyuk, dumbfounded.

He almost cauterized the wrong spot, but the resident saved him from disaster.

“My specialty?”

“Yeah, it’s my specialty! I’m an orthopedic surgeon! I handle lower limb fractures!”

“Wasn’t your main focus knees?”

Baek Kang-hyuk, who hadn’t even known his name until a moment ago, knew Professor Kim In-soo’s subspecialty in detail.

He didn’t know faces or names, but he made sure to know important details about any doctor he’d trust with a patient.

“Well… knees, yes! So I know this anatomy inside out. Whenever a fracture patient comes in, I handle it!”

That basically meant he wasn’t a fracture specialist.

In reality, there wasn’t a true fracture subspecialty in Korea.

There simply weren’t enough fractures for someone to make a living off just that.

Like other departments, orthopedics had only subspecialties for specific diseases.

When trauma patients arrived, they just got assigned according to subspecialty as best they could.

Baek Kang-hyuk thought that made no sense.

“So, basically… you just cover it when it comes up, right?”

“No, that’s not it! What are you saying?”

“I’ve probably handled a lot more fractures than you have.”

“How would you—”

“That’s why I was able to handle what just happened. It’s not just knowledge; I’ve experienced it. If you’re a real specialist, you should be able to manage the surgery *and* the complications, right?”

“Umm…”

Professor Kim couldn’t respond to that.

He wasn’t a terrible person, so he struggled to find the right words.

Either way, he couldn’t deny that he’d just received a huge amount of help.

Besides, Professor Kim had heard one thing about Baek Kang-hyuk.

‘They said he went in to fix a broken thigh and ended up doing a [kidney transplant].’
(T/N: [Kidney transplant] refers to transplanting a kidney from a donor to a recipient.)

There were even rumors that the [kidney transplant] finished faster than the fracture surgery.

It was such a bizarre story that it sparked heated debates in the orthopedics department.

Some said it was a lie, others said it wasn’t.

The professor who’d gone in at the time was known for exaggerating, but even so—who would make up stories about someone else being a good surgeon?

Professor Kim In-soo thought that just didn’t add up.

Drip.

Meanwhile, the bleeding only seemed to get worse.

Because the [heparin] from anesthesia was still running.

He wanted to tell them to stop it now, but—

That wasn’t possible.

If they stopped now, the blood clot in the pulmonary artery, which hadn’t been completely removed, could grow again, and the patient could die.

“T-then just keep going for now. But don’t screw up. Hey, are you listening?”

“Yeah, I hear you. I hear you. Such a worrier, honestly.”

Baek Kang-hyuk shrugged off Professor Kim’s so-called ‘great concession’ and put on his gloves.

Then he motioned to the intern, who’d become a bystander thanks to the sudden [pulmonary embolism] and bleeding from the [heparin].

“Me, sir?”

“Is there anyone else here just standing around?”

He looked around, and sure enough, he was the only one.

The anesthesiologist was glued to the monitor, not even checking his phone for once.

The nurses were all busy fetching medication for the anesthesiologist.

And the orthopedics team was too busy stopping the bleeding to say anything.

“Y-yes, sir.”

So the intern moved obediently to Baek Kang-hyuk’s side.

As the intern approached, Baek Kang-hyuk looked down.

The left leg, like the right, was a mess of shattered bone.

It looked like they’d at least cleaned and disinfected it with saline before surgery.

But by now, with the ongoing bleeding, all traces of disinfectant like [Betadine] had been washed away.

‘Well, you do have the skill to claim this as your specialty.’

The right side couldn’t have been any better than this.

The fact that it had been put together this well said a lot about Professor Kim In-soo’s skill.

“Hey, hey! The bleeding’s getting worse!”

But even so, Professor Kim was struggling.

Which showed just how difficult this surgery was.

‘Well, it’s not like I’ve never operated while pouring in [heparin].’

Baek Kang-hyuk had done several similar surgeries before.

So he knew exactly what to do.

Trying to cauterize every bleeding spot was the last thing you wanted to do.

Because of the [heparin], any cauterization now would just make the wounds worse.

“Give me the scalp clip.”

So should he just do nothing? Of course not.

“Huh? The clip…?”

“Scalp clip. It should be here, right? I always insist on keeping them fully stocked.”

“Oh, yes. I’ll get it.”

The nurse looked puzzled but remembered the orientation Jang-mi had given about the equipment in the OR, so she was able to point the assistant nurse to the correct tray.

“Get it from there. Scalp clip.”

“Yes.”

The assistant nurse didn’t hesitate and brought it over to the table.

Baek Kang-hyuk grabbed the tool, which looked like a tiny gun, and began applying clips to the torn edge of the shin.

The clips, also called clamps, bit down hard on the wound with a ‘pop-pop’ sound.

Suddenly, the bleeding that wouldn’t stop—no matter how much they cauterized, wiped, or pressed—stopped instantly.

It was because they bit down so firmly.

“Good.”

After instantly stopping the bleeding at the wound edge, Baek Kang-hyuk looked over at Professor Kim In-soo.

Professor Kim had been watching carefully since Baek started asking for unusual instruments.

He thought nothing would stop the bleeding.

“Wow.”

But after using some strange method, Baek stopped the bleeding right away and moved on to actual [vascular anastomosis].

[T/N: Vascular anastomosis is the surgical connection of two blood vessels.]

“Hey.”

“You want this? Take it.”

“Y-yes. Thank you…”

“No need. If you don’t know, you have to learn. I was the same way at first.”

“Y-yes…”

For the first time since becoming a professor, Kim In-soo felt humiliated as he took the instrument and quickly started hemostasis.

Pop.

But it didn’t go as smoothly for him as it did for Baek Kang-hyuk.

Even using the same tool, results varied wildly depending on who used it.

Still, it was far better than running wild with the bipolar cautery.

At least now, as long as the clip was placed correctly, there was no bleeding from that spot.

“Intern.”

“Yes!”

The intern replied in a booming voice, feeling as if he’d just witnessed a miracle.

“Are you deaf or something…?”

“S-sorry.”

“Anyway, today all you need to do is pull when I tell you. Exactly as I show you. Easy, right?”

“Yes, I can do it!”

All he had to do was pull as instructed. What could be easier?

And besides, he was someone who’d graduated Hanguk University Medical School with honors and gotten his medical license in one shot—an intern among interns.

“Right. Energetic, I like it. Now, pull like this. Just like that.”

“Yes!”

The intern hooked an army retractor under the skin and started pulling.

At first, it was easy.

It just got harder as things went on.

“Now, follow my movements exactly.”

That meant he was to pull the clip on the wound exactly as Baek Kang-hyuk moved it.

“L-like this?”

“Hey! Are your eyes closed? You moved 1mm too far. Get it right!”

“Uh… like this…?”

“Now you’re 1mm behind. Geez… no sense of touch at all…”

“S-sorry.”

The intern couldn’t help but wonder, ‘Can he really feel a 1mm difference?’ How could a human perform surgery sensing such tiny differences?

But he couldn’t say that out loud.

He was the intern, and the ill-tempered guy was the professor.

“Stay sharp. Just pull like that for now.”

“Yes, professor.”

“If it wobbles, you’re dead.”

“Yes…”

The intern wasn’t sure if he meant the patient would die, or he would, but he nodded desperately either way.

He didn’t want anyone dying, including himself.

“Okay…”

Baek Kang-hyuk looked down at the vessel, satisfied with the intern’s steadier pull.

Drip.

Blood was still pouring out.

Bright red blood kept being suctioned out as it pooled inside.

Baek Kang-hyuk figured this amount of bleeding had nothing to do with [heparin].

This was the kind of wound that wouldn’t have stopped bleeding anyway.

‘Fortunately, it’s the vein that’s cut. The artery wasn’t damaged.’

Most of the time, veins were the real problem in traumatic injuries.

If an artery was injured, it’d be a much bigger issue.

Arteries were elastic and could avoid most injuries.

“Alright, I’ll connect it right away. Give me the suture. Number 7 thread.”

“You don’t need the microscope?”

The nurse looked blankly at Baek Kang-hyuk.

Professor Kim In-soo had a similar expression, remembering the hassle of wrapping a whole microscope in a sterile drape just to connect a single vessel.

Baek Kang-hyuk shrugged as he glanced between them.

“It’s not a micro-anastomosis. It’s just a tibial vein. Don’t make a fuss, just give it to me.”

“Pfft.”

Left feeling like the one making a fuss, Professor Kim sighed.

‘Please mess it up…’

Even though he knew it was pathetic, he found himself wishing for something to go wrong.

That day, Professor Kim learned something new.

Either there was no god to grant wishes, or, if there was, they didn’t grant wishes like that.

‘No, how does he do that…? Is he insane?’