K-drama inspired sad romance story with twist of soul swapping.
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Beneath His Brightest Smile
- Thread starter accuscripter
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Statistics (7 threadmarks, 8.7k words)
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Chapter 1
accuscripter
Know what you're doing yet?
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"Just entering the lot," a woman in her early thirties said, steering her white SUV into the parking garage of Hankuk National University Hospital.
"Dr. Maeng! You've been late three times this week. Just because your family ...damn damn..." here the voice reduced as if coming from far, and then it got clear again, "I meant you cannot disregard the rules in any case Dr. Maeng! It's highly unprofessional." a sharp voice on the other end of the phone snapped.
She just laughed and stepped out of her car. She was dressed in a three-piece maroon suit, hair in a bun, a small designer handbag on her arm, coffee in one hand and her phone in the other.
"See you in the office." and without waiting for a response she closed the call and stepped into the elevator.
Just as the doors were sliding shut, a man immediately jammed his foot in the gap, forcing them back open. When he looked up and saw her, he froze for a split second, looking like he instantly regretted stopping the elevator. But he checked his wristwatch, steeled himself, and stepped inside.
Se-na sipped her coffee, her eyes scanning him from the ground up.
Shoes are the soul of a personality, she always said. They made a man out of a pauper and a pauper out of a man; or so she believed. Her mother would always scold her for judging attire, especially shoes. She used to argue that the more ragged the shoes, the harder the person worked. But Se-na always differed on this; she believed that a person who didn't keep their nails clean and shoes up to date lacked responsibility, and her mother would usually hit her on the head, telling her to stop projecting her thoughts onto other people and that it was none of her concern. And yet, here she was, addicted to the bad habit. She stared at his shoes. They looked older than he was.
His name was Jun woo. As if sensing her cold gaze, he turned around and adjusted his glasses. "Can I help you with something, Dr. Maeng?"
Se-na was still looking at his shoes but was snapped back to reality by his voice. "Hm? Nothing," she replied flatly, looking away and taking another sip of coffee.
Jun-woo turned back around, looking pleased with his confidence in showing her her place.
Se-na's floor arrived, and she got off. As the doors were closing behind her, she heard a giggle and a voice. "You were with her in the elevator? How could you even breathe, man! With that Queen?"
It was Won-bin who just entered the elevator and seeing se-na left it before him was teasing Jun-woo about it.
Se-na couldn't help herself. She turned back and, this time, she was the one who jammed her foot in the door to stop it.
"I heard you talking about me," she said, loud enough for the whole lobby to go silent.
Won-bin turned around, coffee in hand, looking terrified. "Wha... What? Did I say something?" he asked innocently, glancing at Jun-woo, who was frantically shaking his head no. "You must be mistaken, Dr. Maeng. How would I dare talk about anyone with a rich father? I don't have an interest in talking about people who bought their positions using shortcuts and try to undermine the hard work of others."
"You say 'shortcut' like it's a bad thing," Se-na smiled, though her eyes were cold. "I have money. That is a quality, just like your 'hard work.' The difference is, my quality bought this hospital the best equipment in the country. Your quality just bought you a pair of cheap shoes, a tired face, and... Well... it would be an insult to call that shit a coffee. Who do you think the patients would rather have?"
Won-bin was struck silent, his face turning red with embarrassment. A few nurses and junior residents had gathered around to watch the spectacle.
Without waiting for him to respond, she pulled a crisp 50,000 won note from her designer handbag and tucked it into his scrub pocket. "Go buy a better coffee. You look like you're about to fail, and I hate looking at failures. Don't punish your taste buds just to look classy."
She left him standing there, humiliated and speechless. He ran out after her to confront her, with the note in his hand, but other residents stepped in and stopped him. She was hearing the commotion behind her, and loved that she could silence a room with a single sentence. After all, it wasn't just about the money; it was about the fact that she was right.
"Finally! You are here!" angry chief of cardiology department snapped at her, almost running up the hall, as she was about to enter the residents room. He was a stout man with alopecia. And she was his favorite resident. Why will she not be? After all her father always donated a hefty amount to the cardiology department, and also because she was a talented surgeon but who cares about that! She rather not work at all and still be his favorite.
"Dr. Maeng... i know it is really hard for you to get here on time, i also don't want to scold you, but how long can i protect you? You said you were here ten minutes ago! Look at the time! It's already twenty minutes late! If you are late, who will teach the juniors to be on time? You are supposed to be their role model! it's so unprofessional!"
Se-na turned slowly, and walked up to him, tilting her head. "Gyosu-nim, my father asked me to pay his regards to you, when i was telling him how much you take care of me. He was asking me, saying how about he donates 5 High-slice Cardiac CT scanners this time?"
The professor's face went through a transformation, the stern, righteous mask of an educator melting instantly into the desperate, sweaty grin of a man who realized he'd just shouted at a gold mine.
"Five... five High-slice scanners?" he stammered, his posture shrinking as he took a half-step back to give her more space.
"Se-na-shi... Dr. Maeng," he corrected himself quickly, a nervous chuckle bubbling up. "You see, this is exactly what I mean by your unique potential. "A role model always looks at the big picture. The number of lives we can save with that kind of technology? That is true leadership!" the transition of words was hilarious yet nauseating at the same time, it felt as if he was a whole different person altogether.
He reached out as if to dust off a non-existent speck of lint from her lab coat, his movements frantic and fawning. "Please, tell your father I am deeply touched. And as for the time... well, the traffic in this city is a nightmare for everyone! In fact, don't worry at all i will handle that, you go do carry on with your schedule? i am buying coffee for the department in this good news, should i send you one...?" then he saw the coffee in her hand, "ahh... you already have yours.... no worries just tell me if you encounter any problems! You must be exhausted from the commute. In fact, why don't you come to my office, we can just clear your morning rounds so you can properly... relax and discuss these regards from your father?"
se na smiled her casual way, "ahh... gyosu-nim, i was about to go see the juniors." here he interrupted her with the gesture of his hand, "Forget about the juniors, they need to learn flexibility! If anyone asks, say you were in a private consultation with me."
Se-na didn't move and sighed softly, "I think I'll pass, Gyosu-nim," she said. "The commute was quite draining. I'm actually a little too tired for anything right now."
The Chief's eyes widened, "Of course, of course! I have some premium Da-hong-pao tea in my office, the real stuff, hand-carried from China. He said in a proud whisper, "It's legendary for clearing the mind and helping one relax after a stressful morning." He beamed at her, hoping that the offer of a rare luxury would bridge the gap his scolding had created with her.
Se-na adjusted her sleeve, looking utterly unimpressed. "I'm very particular, Chief. I only drink Sejak green tea from the first spring harvest... if I drink tea at all. And certainly not right now."
"Sej... Sejak? Of course, of course," he stuttered, quickly clearing his throat to hide his embarrassment. "You… go ahead and take a rest. Don't let me keep you."
As Se-na turned to walk away, he called out after her, his voice a mix of desperation and hope, "And... don't forget the five CT scanners!"
She didn't look back. Finally free of him, she headed to the locker room and changed into her customized scrubs. She took a moment to adjust her collar in the mirror, ensuring every line was perfect, before stepping out to begin the morning rounds.
As she got out and started to walk away, a nurse approached them. "Dr. Maeng! Wait!"
Se-na didn't stop. She knew the voice. It was Min-ji, a nurse who had been at the hospital for twenty years and still thought "kindness" was a medical requirement. Se-na was always irritated by her because she constantly lectured her on humanity.
Min-ji caught up to her, breathless. "The patient in 304… he passed away an hour ago."
You can read next chapter ahead for FREE at patreon.com/accuscripter
"Dr. Maeng! You've been late three times this week. Just because your family ...damn damn..." here the voice reduced as if coming from far, and then it got clear again, "I meant you cannot disregard the rules in any case Dr. Maeng! It's highly unprofessional." a sharp voice on the other end of the phone snapped.
She just laughed and stepped out of her car. She was dressed in a three-piece maroon suit, hair in a bun, a small designer handbag on her arm, coffee in one hand and her phone in the other.
"See you in the office." and without waiting for a response she closed the call and stepped into the elevator.
Just as the doors were sliding shut, a man immediately jammed his foot in the gap, forcing them back open. When he looked up and saw her, he froze for a split second, looking like he instantly regretted stopping the elevator. But he checked his wristwatch, steeled himself, and stepped inside.
Se-na sipped her coffee, her eyes scanning him from the ground up.
Shoes are the soul of a personality, she always said. They made a man out of a pauper and a pauper out of a man; or so she believed. Her mother would always scold her for judging attire, especially shoes. She used to argue that the more ragged the shoes, the harder the person worked. But Se-na always differed on this; she believed that a person who didn't keep their nails clean and shoes up to date lacked responsibility, and her mother would usually hit her on the head, telling her to stop projecting her thoughts onto other people and that it was none of her concern. And yet, here she was, addicted to the bad habit. She stared at his shoes. They looked older than he was.
His name was Jun woo. As if sensing her cold gaze, he turned around and adjusted his glasses. "Can I help you with something, Dr. Maeng?"
Se-na was still looking at his shoes but was snapped back to reality by his voice. "Hm? Nothing," she replied flatly, looking away and taking another sip of coffee.
Jun-woo turned back around, looking pleased with his confidence in showing her her place.
Se-na's floor arrived, and she got off. As the doors were closing behind her, she heard a giggle and a voice. "You were with her in the elevator? How could you even breathe, man! With that Queen?"
It was Won-bin who just entered the elevator and seeing se-na left it before him was teasing Jun-woo about it.
Se-na couldn't help herself. She turned back and, this time, she was the one who jammed her foot in the door to stop it.
"I heard you talking about me," she said, loud enough for the whole lobby to go silent.
Won-bin turned around, coffee in hand, looking terrified. "Wha... What? Did I say something?" he asked innocently, glancing at Jun-woo, who was frantically shaking his head no. "You must be mistaken, Dr. Maeng. How would I dare talk about anyone with a rich father? I don't have an interest in talking about people who bought their positions using shortcuts and try to undermine the hard work of others."
"You say 'shortcut' like it's a bad thing," Se-na smiled, though her eyes were cold. "I have money. That is a quality, just like your 'hard work.' The difference is, my quality bought this hospital the best equipment in the country. Your quality just bought you a pair of cheap shoes, a tired face, and... Well... it would be an insult to call that shit a coffee. Who do you think the patients would rather have?"
Won-bin was struck silent, his face turning red with embarrassment. A few nurses and junior residents had gathered around to watch the spectacle.
Without waiting for him to respond, she pulled a crisp 50,000 won note from her designer handbag and tucked it into his scrub pocket. "Go buy a better coffee. You look like you're about to fail, and I hate looking at failures. Don't punish your taste buds just to look classy."
She left him standing there, humiliated and speechless. He ran out after her to confront her, with the note in his hand, but other residents stepped in and stopped him. She was hearing the commotion behind her, and loved that she could silence a room with a single sentence. After all, it wasn't just about the money; it was about the fact that she was right.
"Finally! You are here!" angry chief of cardiology department snapped at her, almost running up the hall, as she was about to enter the residents room. He was a stout man with alopecia. And she was his favorite resident. Why will she not be? After all her father always donated a hefty amount to the cardiology department, and also because she was a talented surgeon but who cares about that! She rather not work at all and still be his favorite.
"Dr. Maeng... i know it is really hard for you to get here on time, i also don't want to scold you, but how long can i protect you? You said you were here ten minutes ago! Look at the time! It's already twenty minutes late! If you are late, who will teach the juniors to be on time? You are supposed to be their role model! it's so unprofessional!"
Se-na turned slowly, and walked up to him, tilting her head. "Gyosu-nim, my father asked me to pay his regards to you, when i was telling him how much you take care of me. He was asking me, saying how about he donates 5 High-slice Cardiac CT scanners this time?"
The professor's face went through a transformation, the stern, righteous mask of an educator melting instantly into the desperate, sweaty grin of a man who realized he'd just shouted at a gold mine.
"Five... five High-slice scanners?" he stammered, his posture shrinking as he took a half-step back to give her more space.
"Se-na-shi... Dr. Maeng," he corrected himself quickly, a nervous chuckle bubbling up. "You see, this is exactly what I mean by your unique potential. "A role model always looks at the big picture. The number of lives we can save with that kind of technology? That is true leadership!" the transition of words was hilarious yet nauseating at the same time, it felt as if he was a whole different person altogether.
He reached out as if to dust off a non-existent speck of lint from her lab coat, his movements frantic and fawning. "Please, tell your father I am deeply touched. And as for the time... well, the traffic in this city is a nightmare for everyone! In fact, don't worry at all i will handle that, you go do carry on with your schedule? i am buying coffee for the department in this good news, should i send you one...?" then he saw the coffee in her hand, "ahh... you already have yours.... no worries just tell me if you encounter any problems! You must be exhausted from the commute. In fact, why don't you come to my office, we can just clear your morning rounds so you can properly... relax and discuss these regards from your father?"
se na smiled her casual way, "ahh... gyosu-nim, i was about to go see the juniors." here he interrupted her with the gesture of his hand, "Forget about the juniors, they need to learn flexibility! If anyone asks, say you were in a private consultation with me."
Se-na didn't move and sighed softly, "I think I'll pass, Gyosu-nim," she said. "The commute was quite draining. I'm actually a little too tired for anything right now."
The Chief's eyes widened, "Of course, of course! I have some premium Da-hong-pao tea in my office, the real stuff, hand-carried from China. He said in a proud whisper, "It's legendary for clearing the mind and helping one relax after a stressful morning." He beamed at her, hoping that the offer of a rare luxury would bridge the gap his scolding had created with her.
Se-na adjusted her sleeve, looking utterly unimpressed. "I'm very particular, Chief. I only drink Sejak green tea from the first spring harvest... if I drink tea at all. And certainly not right now."
"Sej... Sejak? Of course, of course," he stuttered, quickly clearing his throat to hide his embarrassment. "You… go ahead and take a rest. Don't let me keep you."
As Se-na turned to walk away, he called out after her, his voice a mix of desperation and hope, "And... don't forget the five CT scanners!"
She didn't look back. Finally free of him, she headed to the locker room and changed into her customized scrubs. She took a moment to adjust her collar in the mirror, ensuring every line was perfect, before stepping out to begin the morning rounds.
As she got out and started to walk away, a nurse approached them. "Dr. Maeng! Wait!"
Se-na didn't stop. She knew the voice. It was Min-ji, a nurse who had been at the hospital for twenty years and still thought "kindness" was a medical requirement. Se-na was always irritated by her because she constantly lectured her on humanity.
Min-ji caught up to her, breathless. "The patient in 304… he passed away an hour ago."
You can read next chapter ahead for FREE at patreon.com/accuscripter
Last edited:
accuscripter
Know what you're doing yet?
- Joined
- Apr 2, 2025
- Messages
- 211
- Likes received
- 80
Beneath His Brightest Smile: Chapter 2
accuscripter
Know what you're doing yet?
- Joined
- Apr 2, 2025
- Messages
- 211
- Likes received
- 80
"His daughter has been waiting for you." She continued.
Se-na rubbed her temple. "He died. Why does she want to meet with me when she already knew he would die?" she asked with scorn.
"She just wants to know if he was in any pain before he left... Could you just... five minutes?" Min-ji replied, breathing heavily.
Se-na stopped and looked at her watch. She didn't look at Min-ji's face. "My job ended when his soul left his body. Give me a reason, Head Nurse. Why should I spend five minutes discussing a dead man?"
Min-ji blinked, startled. "Yes, but..."
Se-na leaned in. "Yes, BUT...you don't have a reason. I know you already explained everything to her, and I don't want to be disrespectful, Head Nurse, but if I wanted to hold hands, I would have worked in a kindergarten. So please, try not to come to me with such requests. It's not my headache that he signed a DNR. I have a schedule to keep."
Saying this, she walked away, hearing the sharp, pained sigh from the nurse as if she had expected nothing less.
"Tsk... what a productive way to start the day," she muttered under her breath. When she checked her tablet, she found that her entire morning schedule had been wiped clean. Instead of feeling relieved, the "favor" from the Chief only annoyed her more.
She spent the next few hours in the residents' lounge, leaning back and scrolling through a real estate app, scouting for new investment properties.
As she was going on, a frantic, heavy knocking shattered the silence. Dr. Kim burst in, he was a senior resident who always smelled like a stale mix of tobacco and cheap soap.
"Dr. Maeng, please! Dr. Choi is in OR 4 and it's a total disaster," he panted, his face pale. "It's a thoracic case. He's been in there for five hours. The patient is only twenty; an athlete. He cannot do more! he's about to give up."
Se-na didn't even look up from her phone. "And?"
"And? Se-na! AND?!" Kim cried, exasperated. "You're the only one who can handle that kind of micro-suture! you have experience in that! You have to help him, the Director is watching this case personally!"
"That's not my problem," Se-na replied coolly, her thumb swiping to a new property listing. "I'm in the middle of a transaction. Close the door on your way out."
"Se-na! This could be a blessing in disguise for your career! Help Choi! Please!" he pleaded, his voice cracking with desperation.
"Tell him to declare the time of death and move on," she said, still not looking up. "It's the natural conclusion to his failure."
"You... you monster," Kim whispered, his face getting more pale with anger and desperation.
Se-na finally looked up. "Monsters are people who lack the skill to be efficient, and take on cases just to kill." She looked back down at her screen, dismissively waving a hand toward the exit.
Dr. Kim looked at her with a mix of horror and disgust. Without another word, he turned and sprinted back toward the OR, his heavy footsteps echoing down the hallway making her ears go dumb as he ran with a frantic beat of a drum.
Ten minutes later, Se-na grew bored of the app. She stood up, adjusted her perfectly tailored coat, and wandered toward the surgical wing, not to save a life, of course, but because the air conditioning in the halls was superior to the stuffy lounge.
As she passed OR 4, the "In Use" light was still a bleeding red. Through the viewing window, she saw a massacre. Blood was everywhere, the staff was in a state of sheer panic, and Dr. Choi stood frozen, his shoulders slumped in total defeat. A nurse was trying to snap him back. But then Dr. Kim spotted her through the glass; and as if color flooded back into his face, he scrambled out of the room, nearly tripping over his own feet.
"You CAME!" he gasped, reaching out as if to hug her in his desperation.
"I am only here for the..." Before she could finish, he practically shoved her into the scrub room.
Se-na stood there, looking at dr. kim from behind the glass, a flicker of regret crossing her mind, while he was looking at her with his hands joined pleading her. she looked inside the OR, and at the chaos and her curiosity won out. afterall was a perfect opportunity to put someone in her debt. So sighing she started moving with a rhythmic, tired motion, scrubbing her hands slowly. She didn't rush. In her mind, if the girl died while she was scrubbing, it didn't matter. A dead body was just a machine that had finally run out of power in hands of incompetant mechanic and not in her hands.
But the girl was "lucky." The flatline hadn't happened yet even after she spent more than 5 minutes. Se-na sighed again, kicked open the OR doors, and suited up. Her presence seemed to cool the room by ten degrees as everyone looked at her, while she stepped over the puddles of blood on the floor.
"Move," she commanded. Dr. Choi stepped aside, his eyes bloodshot and trembling. "Dr. Maeng... it's too late... it's beyond repair..."
"Late?" she huffed, picking up the needle driver.
She worked in a heavy, suffocating silence. Every eye was pinned on her. Her fingers moved with precision; stitching, joining, and rerouting tissues that looked like raw pulp to everyone else. The room held its breath. Even in the observation gallery above, the air had turned unstable. The senior faculty and the Hospital Director pressed toward the glass, their faces tense. This wasn't just any patient; she was a national icon, a star athlete whose every heartbeat was currently being tracked by the media vans parked outside. Her life or her death, was now intricately tied to the hospital's reputation. To the Director, that girl on the table wasn't a human; she was the hospital's stock price.
But then, Se-na's hands stopped.
The movement was so sudden, so final, that the entire panel in the observation room gasped in unison, leaning so close to the glass that their breath fogged the view.
"What is she doing?" the Chief choked out, his hands trembling as he gripped the railing. "Why did she stop? Is it over?" he looked toward Dr. Kim who was biting his nails an anxiety response behavior he had been trying hard to stop.
Beside him, the Director stood like a statue, his eyes fixed on the bloody field below. He didn't say anything; his silence was more terrifying than any shout. He watched as the monitor's rhythm began to stutter.
"Is she dead?" the Chief cried, his voice cracking. He turned to the Director, his face a mask of pure panic. "Director, I…I didn't authorize this! Se-na... she just walked in! If she just lost a patient on my table..."
The Director finally turned, his gaze cutting through the Chief like a blade. "Your table?" he repeated, his voice low. "If that girl doesn't breathe, there won't be a table left in this department for you to stand behind Chief Han Moon Bin!"
Then a piercing feminine shriek cut through the air, snapping their attention to the voice below. It was Se-Na…her hand was dripping with blood.
.
.
Read ahead for FREE at patreon.com/accuscripter
Se-na rubbed her temple. "He died. Why does she want to meet with me when she already knew he would die?" she asked with scorn.
"She just wants to know if he was in any pain before he left... Could you just... five minutes?" Min-ji replied, breathing heavily.
Se-na stopped and looked at her watch. She didn't look at Min-ji's face. "My job ended when his soul left his body. Give me a reason, Head Nurse. Why should I spend five minutes discussing a dead man?"
Min-ji blinked, startled. "Yes, but..."
Se-na leaned in. "Yes, BUT...you don't have a reason. I know you already explained everything to her, and I don't want to be disrespectful, Head Nurse, but if I wanted to hold hands, I would have worked in a kindergarten. So please, try not to come to me with such requests. It's not my headache that he signed a DNR. I have a schedule to keep."
Saying this, she walked away, hearing the sharp, pained sigh from the nurse as if she had expected nothing less.
"Tsk... what a productive way to start the day," she muttered under her breath. When she checked her tablet, she found that her entire morning schedule had been wiped clean. Instead of feeling relieved, the "favor" from the Chief only annoyed her more.
She spent the next few hours in the residents' lounge, leaning back and scrolling through a real estate app, scouting for new investment properties.
As she was going on, a frantic, heavy knocking shattered the silence. Dr. Kim burst in, he was a senior resident who always smelled like a stale mix of tobacco and cheap soap.
"Dr. Maeng, please! Dr. Choi is in OR 4 and it's a total disaster," he panted, his face pale. "It's a thoracic case. He's been in there for five hours. The patient is only twenty; an athlete. He cannot do more! he's about to give up."
Se-na didn't even look up from her phone. "And?"
"And? Se-na! AND?!" Kim cried, exasperated. "You're the only one who can handle that kind of micro-suture! you have experience in that! You have to help him, the Director is watching this case personally!"
"That's not my problem," Se-na replied coolly, her thumb swiping to a new property listing. "I'm in the middle of a transaction. Close the door on your way out."
"Se-na! This could be a blessing in disguise for your career! Help Choi! Please!" he pleaded, his voice cracking with desperation.
"Tell him to declare the time of death and move on," she said, still not looking up. "It's the natural conclusion to his failure."
"You... you monster," Kim whispered, his face getting more pale with anger and desperation.
Se-na finally looked up. "Monsters are people who lack the skill to be efficient, and take on cases just to kill." She looked back down at her screen, dismissively waving a hand toward the exit.
Dr. Kim looked at her with a mix of horror and disgust. Without another word, he turned and sprinted back toward the OR, his heavy footsteps echoing down the hallway making her ears go dumb as he ran with a frantic beat of a drum.
Ten minutes later, Se-na grew bored of the app. She stood up, adjusted her perfectly tailored coat, and wandered toward the surgical wing, not to save a life, of course, but because the air conditioning in the halls was superior to the stuffy lounge.
As she passed OR 4, the "In Use" light was still a bleeding red. Through the viewing window, she saw a massacre. Blood was everywhere, the staff was in a state of sheer panic, and Dr. Choi stood frozen, his shoulders slumped in total defeat. A nurse was trying to snap him back. But then Dr. Kim spotted her through the glass; and as if color flooded back into his face, he scrambled out of the room, nearly tripping over his own feet.
"You CAME!" he gasped, reaching out as if to hug her in his desperation.
"I am only here for the..." Before she could finish, he practically shoved her into the scrub room.
Se-na stood there, looking at dr. kim from behind the glass, a flicker of regret crossing her mind, while he was looking at her with his hands joined pleading her. she looked inside the OR, and at the chaos and her curiosity won out. afterall was a perfect opportunity to put someone in her debt. So sighing she started moving with a rhythmic, tired motion, scrubbing her hands slowly. She didn't rush. In her mind, if the girl died while she was scrubbing, it didn't matter. A dead body was just a machine that had finally run out of power in hands of incompetant mechanic and not in her hands.
But the girl was "lucky." The flatline hadn't happened yet even after she spent more than 5 minutes. Se-na sighed again, kicked open the OR doors, and suited up. Her presence seemed to cool the room by ten degrees as everyone looked at her, while she stepped over the puddles of blood on the floor.
"Move," she commanded. Dr. Choi stepped aside, his eyes bloodshot and trembling. "Dr. Maeng... it's too late... it's beyond repair..."
"Late?" she huffed, picking up the needle driver.
She worked in a heavy, suffocating silence. Every eye was pinned on her. Her fingers moved with precision; stitching, joining, and rerouting tissues that looked like raw pulp to everyone else. The room held its breath. Even in the observation gallery above, the air had turned unstable. The senior faculty and the Hospital Director pressed toward the glass, their faces tense. This wasn't just any patient; she was a national icon, a star athlete whose every heartbeat was currently being tracked by the media vans parked outside. Her life or her death, was now intricately tied to the hospital's reputation. To the Director, that girl on the table wasn't a human; she was the hospital's stock price.
But then, Se-na's hands stopped.
The movement was so sudden, so final, that the entire panel in the observation room gasped in unison, leaning so close to the glass that their breath fogged the view.
"What is she doing?" the Chief choked out, his hands trembling as he gripped the railing. "Why did she stop? Is it over?" he looked toward Dr. Kim who was biting his nails an anxiety response behavior he had been trying hard to stop.
Beside him, the Director stood like a statue, his eyes fixed on the bloody field below. He didn't say anything; his silence was more terrifying than any shout. He watched as the monitor's rhythm began to stutter.
"Is she dead?" the Chief cried, his voice cracking. He turned to the Director, his face a mask of pure panic. "Director, I…I didn't authorize this! Se-na... she just walked in! If she just lost a patient on my table..."
The Director finally turned, his gaze cutting through the Chief like a blade. "Your table?" he repeated, his voice low. "If that girl doesn't breathe, there won't be a table left in this department for you to stand behind Chief Han Moon Bin!"
Then a piercing feminine shriek cut through the air, snapping their attention to the voice below. It was Se-Na…her hand was dripping with blood.
.
.
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Beneath His Brightest Smile: Chapter 3
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Below, Se-na's hands stopped completely. She stood over the open chest, the needle driver hanging loosely from her fingers. She wasn't looking at the heart. She was staring at the surgical nurse.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Se-na shrieked with pure rage. She had her hand holding the scalpel, dripping with the girl's blood, against the nurse's surgical mask, the sharp blade glinting under the lights. "A... BEAD... OF... SWEAT... JUST... ROLLED... DOWN... MY... TEMPLE . . . ALMOST ...TOUCHING ... MY .... EYE!" She savored each word with a tone of utter disbelief her brow raised and eyes wide.
"D-Dr. Maeng, the patient!!!" Dr. Choi stammered, pointing at the flatline.
"I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE PATIENT!!!" Se-na blustered, her eyes wide and manic behind her goggles. "I care about my vision! This incompetent thing just let a contaminant threaten my procedure."
WHAT ARE YOU HERE FOR? "DON'T YOU SEE THE SWEAT ON MY FORHEAD?!" Se-na was shouting, her voice vibrating with a dark, sharp edge. "Sweat is unhygienic; it's a contaminant in a surgical field! Dont you even know that!!! want me to teach you!!!"
everyone drop your work!!! she cried. i said DROP IT! lets teach her the basics first!" nurse was in shock and teary eyed.
"Hold it there!!!" Se-na's voice was a whip. "If even a single tear falls here in this field, I'll hold you responsible for this whole damn thing."
" Amateurs." She turned her gaze to the gallery, ignoring the dying girl on the table towards the chief, "This is called UNPROFESSIONAL."
Then turning to the nurse she said, "If you are only here to stare at a corpse and ignore the surgeon, get out of my OR! Now!"
When the desperate nurse failed to move, Se-na let out a huff of pure disgust. She stepped back from the table, dropping the needle driver with a deafening clang. To the horror of the gallery, she reached for the ties of her surgical gown. She was undressing; clearly walking away from an open chest.
The Chief turned a sickly shade of gray, his jaw dropping while a national icon was flatlining. "SE-NAA SHII…, we will fire her! We will …please! Just... save her! We'll give you anything!"
"Anything?" Se-na let out a sharp, jagged laugh. "No. I'm bored. If I can't have a sterile field, I rather not work at all. Its not even my patient. Just declare the time of death already!"
"DR. MAENG!" The Director's voice boomed over the speakers, cracking with desperation. "Fifty million won! A private research wing! Whatever you want! Just put your hands back in that chest! Look at the monitor, loookkk!!! there's a flicker! She's still there!"
Se-na paused, her gown half-off. She looked at the monitor and then back at him as if saying, you think I don't know?
"Fifty million? Director, I spend that on shoes in a weekend. Make it an investment share in the new surgical wing, replace this whole panel present in this OR with immediate resignation of the Chief with my appointment in his place! I don't have to tell you that its for his 'unprofessional' management of this department."
The Chief gasped, clutching the railing. "You... you bitch!"
Se-na tilted her head, a terrifyingly empty smile hidden by her mask. "Tick-tock, Director. The brain cells are dying..."
"DEAL!" the Director roared, slamming his fist against the glass.
"DIRECTOR!" the Chief cried, betrayal written all over his sweating face. "You can't!!!"
"SHUT UP! ALL OF YOU!" the Director bellowed, veins bulging in his neck. "FOCUS! START WORKING ALREADY! NURSE! Get out of that OR before I have you blacklisted from every hospital in the country!"
"Se-na, she..." the Chief started again, desperate to save his dignity.
"Chief Han!" the Director cut him off with a vicious snarl. "Arrange another NURSE! INSTEAD OF THIS RAMBLING! And then get out of my sight! This instant!"
The nurse fled, sobbing. Se-na stood there, scalpel in hand while waiting for a new, terrified nurse to run in almost instantly and frantically wipe her forehead. Only when she was perfectly comfortable did she slowly, lazily reach back into the girl's chest.
Fifteen minutes later, the heart was back in rhythm, thumping with mechanical regularity. Se-na didn't offer a word of relief. She stepped back, her hands perfectly clean, looking down at the body like it was a piece of trash she had successfully recycled.
"She's... she's back," Choi breathed, his voice trembling with a mix of awe and pure horror at the woman beside him. "You saved her... but you almost let her die just to fire the Chief?"
Se-na didn't respond to him. She slowly looked up at the gallery.
She looked at the Chief, who was clutching the railing, looking pale and faint, perhaps secretly wishing the patient would die just to spite her and making her go down with him. Then she looked at the Director, whose color had returned as he watched the hospital's stock prices mentally skyrocket as soon as the news hit the media.
Se-na's eyes crinkled. She was smiling.
"It was a joke, by the way, Director," she said lightly, her voice airy as if innocently unaware of the gravity of the situation.
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"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Se-na shrieked with pure rage. She had her hand holding the scalpel, dripping with the girl's blood, against the nurse's surgical mask, the sharp blade glinting under the lights. "A... BEAD... OF... SWEAT... JUST... ROLLED... DOWN... MY... TEMPLE . . . ALMOST ...TOUCHING ... MY .... EYE!" She savored each word with a tone of utter disbelief her brow raised and eyes wide.
"D-Dr. Maeng, the patient!!!" Dr. Choi stammered, pointing at the flatline.
"I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE PATIENT!!!" Se-na blustered, her eyes wide and manic behind her goggles. "I care about my vision! This incompetent thing just let a contaminant threaten my procedure."
WHAT ARE YOU HERE FOR? "DON'T YOU SEE THE SWEAT ON MY FORHEAD?!" Se-na was shouting, her voice vibrating with a dark, sharp edge. "Sweat is unhygienic; it's a contaminant in a surgical field! Dont you even know that!!! want me to teach you!!!"
everyone drop your work!!! she cried. i said DROP IT! lets teach her the basics first!" nurse was in shock and teary eyed.
"Hold it there!!!" Se-na's voice was a whip. "If even a single tear falls here in this field, I'll hold you responsible for this whole damn thing."
" Amateurs." She turned her gaze to the gallery, ignoring the dying girl on the table towards the chief, "This is called UNPROFESSIONAL."
Then turning to the nurse she said, "If you are only here to stare at a corpse and ignore the surgeon, get out of my OR! Now!"
When the desperate nurse failed to move, Se-na let out a huff of pure disgust. She stepped back from the table, dropping the needle driver with a deafening clang. To the horror of the gallery, she reached for the ties of her surgical gown. She was undressing; clearly walking away from an open chest.
The Chief turned a sickly shade of gray, his jaw dropping while a national icon was flatlining. "SE-NAA SHII…, we will fire her! We will …please! Just... save her! We'll give you anything!"
"Anything?" Se-na let out a sharp, jagged laugh. "No. I'm bored. If I can't have a sterile field, I rather not work at all. Its not even my patient. Just declare the time of death already!"
"DR. MAENG!" The Director's voice boomed over the speakers, cracking with desperation. "Fifty million won! A private research wing! Whatever you want! Just put your hands back in that chest! Look at the monitor, loookkk!!! there's a flicker! She's still there!"
Se-na paused, her gown half-off. She looked at the monitor and then back at him as if saying, you think I don't know?
"Fifty million? Director, I spend that on shoes in a weekend. Make it an investment share in the new surgical wing, replace this whole panel present in this OR with immediate resignation of the Chief with my appointment in his place! I don't have to tell you that its for his 'unprofessional' management of this department."
The Chief gasped, clutching the railing. "You... you bitch!"
Se-na tilted her head, a terrifyingly empty smile hidden by her mask. "Tick-tock, Director. The brain cells are dying..."
"DEAL!" the Director roared, slamming his fist against the glass.
"DIRECTOR!" the Chief cried, betrayal written all over his sweating face. "You can't!!!"
"SHUT UP! ALL OF YOU!" the Director bellowed, veins bulging in his neck. "FOCUS! START WORKING ALREADY! NURSE! Get out of that OR before I have you blacklisted from every hospital in the country!"
"Se-na, she..." the Chief started again, desperate to save his dignity.
"Chief Han!" the Director cut him off with a vicious snarl. "Arrange another NURSE! INSTEAD OF THIS RAMBLING! And then get out of my sight! This instant!"
The nurse fled, sobbing. Se-na stood there, scalpel in hand while waiting for a new, terrified nurse to run in almost instantly and frantically wipe her forehead. Only when she was perfectly comfortable did she slowly, lazily reach back into the girl's chest.
Fifteen minutes later, the heart was back in rhythm, thumping with mechanical regularity. Se-na didn't offer a word of relief. She stepped back, her hands perfectly clean, looking down at the body like it was a piece of trash she had successfully recycled.
"She's... she's back," Choi breathed, his voice trembling with a mix of awe and pure horror at the woman beside him. "You saved her... but you almost let her die just to fire the Chief?"
Se-na didn't respond to him. She slowly looked up at the gallery.
She looked at the Chief, who was clutching the railing, looking pale and faint, perhaps secretly wishing the patient would die just to spite her and making her go down with him. Then she looked at the Director, whose color had returned as he watched the hospital's stock prices mentally skyrocket as soon as the news hit the media.
Se-na's eyes crinkled. She was smiling.
"It was a joke, by the way, Director," she said lightly, her voice airy as if innocently unaware of the gravity of the situation.
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Beneath His Brightest Smile: Chapter 4
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"It was a joke, by the way, Director," she said, her voice dripping with a facetious lightness that refused to acknowledge the gravity of the room making it nauseating for everyone else.
"You don't have to fire anyone. I was just amusing myself. You know... to lighten the mood."
The room went deadly silent. Everyone let out a shaky breath, sending curses her way under their breath. The Chief looked like he was going to vomit; the relief was worse than the firing.
Se-na began to peel off her gloves, her expression utterly vacant.
"After all," she continued, her voice dripping with poisonous sarcasm, "Chief Han has done such a good job taking care of this department. We cannot afford to lose such a... qualified mentor, who guided such a competent panel under him." Here she looked at Dr. Choi and his team, who were embarrassingly completing the procedure.
She tossed her bloody gloves toward the bin, but they missed, landing on the floor near Choi's feet. She didn't bother to pick.
"You can handle the rest, I presume..." Se-na said, and then without waiting for Choi to respond she began to move toward the exit. Halfway there, she stopped and looked back over her shoulder, her eyes narrowing at the open chest.
"Stitch her up nicely," she added casually. "Try not to mess up the skin. She's rich, and she has a public image; she'll sue the hospital if the scar is ugly." And then she turned and walked out of the OR, her gait leisurely, as if she were leaving a spa.
Here Choi stood frozen, the weight of a potential multi-million-won lawsuit now resting entirely on his exhausted hands.
In the hallway, the girl's family was waiting like a pack of wounded animals. As soon as the doors hissed open, the mother, dressed in an expensive white maxi skirt rushed forward. She was sobbing, her hands reaching out to grab Se-na's arm in a desperate plea for news.
Se-na recoiled with a look of genuine, visceral disgust. She stepped back with the grace of a cat avoiding a puddle, pulling her sleeve away as if the woman's touch was a contagious disease.
"Is she okay? Is my daughter okay?" the mother wailed.
Se-na looked her up and down, who looked anything but in despair for her dying daughter. "The repair is holding," she said, her voice flat and clinical. "Tell the billing department to send the invoice to your insurance. I expect no delays in my surgical fee."
The mother blinked, her sobbing hitching in her throat. "But... she's... is she going to wake up?"
Se-na didn't answer immediately. Instead, she stepped closer, leaning into the mother's personal space staring directly into her eyes and whispered, "It almost looks like you don't want her to wake up, Omoni."
"WHAT?!" the woman cried, stumbling back, her face turning from swollen red to a ghostly white.
"That's for her brain to decide. I've done my part," Se-na replied in her casual voice, moving back and brushing an invisible speck of dust from her shoulder. She adjusted her collar, her gaze turning sharp and dismissive. "And please, don't touch my coat again. It's custom silk. Your hysterics are already taxing enough; I don't need a dry-cleaning bill added to my surgical fee. Tell the billing department to send the invoice to you."
She walked away without a backward glance, the sound of the mother's confused, and dramatic sobs fading into the distance.
As Se-na reached her office, she collapsed onto the leather couch, her eyes burning with exhaustion. But before she could even close them, a heavy, rhythmic thumping rattled the door. It wasn't the hesitant tap of a nurse; it was someone else.
"Come in," she groaned, her voice thick with irritation.
The door swung open, and Dr. Joo stormed in, his face a mask of righteous fury.
"Dr. Maeng Se-na! I just heard what you did in OR 4," he barked, standing over her like a judge.
"No need to thank me," Se-na muttered, not even opening her eyes. She lay back, draping her arm over her face to block out the light. "I'd like to take my rest in peace now, if you please..."
"Thank you? You think I'm here to thank you?" Joo's voice rose an octave. "I heard how you treated the staff! I heard how you spoke to the family outside! It's a disgrace to the white coat!"
Silence stretched for a few seconds. Then, slowly, Se-na shifted. she pushed her hair back and sat up, resting her chin on her hand as she looked at him with a terrifyingly calm expression.
"The least I expected was for you to thank me for saving your friend Choi's career," she said softly. "And yet, you're here accusing me of... what? I think you desperately need to straighten your priorities, Gyosu-nim. You need to decide which side you're on."
Dr. Joo turned a deeper shade of red. As the Head of the Ethics Committee, he was used to doctors trembling in his presence. "You really think you can get away with the scene you just made? You think the OR is your playground and the people are your servants?"
He stepped closer, his shadow falling over her. "You think just because you saved a life, you'll be worshipped and pampered like an idol? Snap out of it! Do you have any idea what the punishment is for what you did? Intentionally delaying a surgery while a chest is open? Extorting the Chief's position? Attacking grieving families? I can have your license suspended for six months before the sun goes down!"
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"You don't have to fire anyone. I was just amusing myself. You know... to lighten the mood."
The room went deadly silent. Everyone let out a shaky breath, sending curses her way under their breath. The Chief looked like he was going to vomit; the relief was worse than the firing.
Se-na began to peel off her gloves, her expression utterly vacant.
"After all," she continued, her voice dripping with poisonous sarcasm, "Chief Han has done such a good job taking care of this department. We cannot afford to lose such a... qualified mentor, who guided such a competent panel under him." Here she looked at Dr. Choi and his team, who were embarrassingly completing the procedure.
She tossed her bloody gloves toward the bin, but they missed, landing on the floor near Choi's feet. She didn't bother to pick.
"You can handle the rest, I presume..." Se-na said, and then without waiting for Choi to respond she began to move toward the exit. Halfway there, she stopped and looked back over her shoulder, her eyes narrowing at the open chest.
"Stitch her up nicely," she added casually. "Try not to mess up the skin. She's rich, and she has a public image; she'll sue the hospital if the scar is ugly." And then she turned and walked out of the OR, her gait leisurely, as if she were leaving a spa.
Here Choi stood frozen, the weight of a potential multi-million-won lawsuit now resting entirely on his exhausted hands.
In the hallway, the girl's family was waiting like a pack of wounded animals. As soon as the doors hissed open, the mother, dressed in an expensive white maxi skirt rushed forward. She was sobbing, her hands reaching out to grab Se-na's arm in a desperate plea for news.
Se-na recoiled with a look of genuine, visceral disgust. She stepped back with the grace of a cat avoiding a puddle, pulling her sleeve away as if the woman's touch was a contagious disease.
"Is she okay? Is my daughter okay?" the mother wailed.
Se-na looked her up and down, who looked anything but in despair for her dying daughter. "The repair is holding," she said, her voice flat and clinical. "Tell the billing department to send the invoice to your insurance. I expect no delays in my surgical fee."
The mother blinked, her sobbing hitching in her throat. "But... she's... is she going to wake up?"
Se-na didn't answer immediately. Instead, she stepped closer, leaning into the mother's personal space staring directly into her eyes and whispered, "It almost looks like you don't want her to wake up, Omoni."
"WHAT?!" the woman cried, stumbling back, her face turning from swollen red to a ghostly white.
"That's for her brain to decide. I've done my part," Se-na replied in her casual voice, moving back and brushing an invisible speck of dust from her shoulder. She adjusted her collar, her gaze turning sharp and dismissive. "And please, don't touch my coat again. It's custom silk. Your hysterics are already taxing enough; I don't need a dry-cleaning bill added to my surgical fee. Tell the billing department to send the invoice to you."
She walked away without a backward glance, the sound of the mother's confused, and dramatic sobs fading into the distance.
As Se-na reached her office, she collapsed onto the leather couch, her eyes burning with exhaustion. But before she could even close them, a heavy, rhythmic thumping rattled the door. It wasn't the hesitant tap of a nurse; it was someone else.
"Come in," she groaned, her voice thick with irritation.
The door swung open, and Dr. Joo stormed in, his face a mask of righteous fury.
"Dr. Maeng Se-na! I just heard what you did in OR 4," he barked, standing over her like a judge.
"No need to thank me," Se-na muttered, not even opening her eyes. She lay back, draping her arm over her face to block out the light. "I'd like to take my rest in peace now, if you please..."
"Thank you? You think I'm here to thank you?" Joo's voice rose an octave. "I heard how you treated the staff! I heard how you spoke to the family outside! It's a disgrace to the white coat!"
Silence stretched for a few seconds. Then, slowly, Se-na shifted. she pushed her hair back and sat up, resting her chin on her hand as she looked at him with a terrifyingly calm expression.
"The least I expected was for you to thank me for saving your friend Choi's career," she said softly. "And yet, you're here accusing me of... what? I think you desperately need to straighten your priorities, Gyosu-nim. You need to decide which side you're on."
Dr. Joo turned a deeper shade of red. As the Head of the Ethics Committee, he was used to doctors trembling in his presence. "You really think you can get away with the scene you just made? You think the OR is your playground and the people are your servants?"
He stepped closer, his shadow falling over her. "You think just because you saved a life, you'll be worshipped and pampered like an idol? Snap out of it! Do you have any idea what the punishment is for what you did? Intentionally delaying a surgery while a chest is open? Extorting the Chief's position? Attacking grieving families? I can have your license suspended for six months before the sun goes down!"
.
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Beneath His Brightest Smile: Chapter 5
New
accuscripter
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Se-na didn't flinch. She actually let out a dry, airy chuckle that made the hair on Joo's neck stand up.
"Six months?" she repeated, tilting her head. "In six months, the Director will have lost forty percent of his donors, Dr. Choi will be a depressed alcoholic, and that 'hero' athlete will be a forgotten memory in a graveyard. But please... DO…file the paperwork. I'd love a six-month vacation. I have some properties in Jeju I've been meaning to look at."
She stood up, walking toward him until she was inches away, her gaze cold enough to freeze the room.
"But tell me, Gyosu-nim... when you stand in front of the press to explain why you suspended the only person capable of fixing this hospital's failures, do you think they'll care about my 'tone'? Or will they only care that you let a girl die to protect the Chief's fragile ego?"
She leaned back against her desk, crossing her legs with a slow, deliberate elegance. "Humanity? Ethics? Please, Joo gyosu-nim. You sound like a first-year student who hasn't realized yet that we aren't playing house in a med-school simulation. We are in the field."
Dr. Joo stood paralyzed, his mouth hanging slightly open as the words he wanted to scream died in his throat. He wanted to call her a monster, but the cold, jagged logic of her words held him in a chokehold; he knew what happened in the OR, what the senior nurse did and that the Chief had been ready to sacrifice her, and he knew that today without her the hospital's prestige would be nothing but a hollow shell.
She held up her hands, turning them over as if admiring a piece of fine jewelry. "To me, a body on that slab is just hardware I have to repair with these magical hands. Whether they wake up and thank God or stay dead and go to the morgue... I care the same. It's just a set of cells, tissues, and organs. If the hardware is too broken, it's not my fault. If I fix it, it's my genius."
She leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. "The rest? That's for people like you who get paid to 'feel' things because you aren't skilled enough to actually do things. Did you forget the disaster the surgical panel almost pulled? Or should I remind you that while I was being forced into that OR, the Chief was already preparing to throw me under the bus? Please. My brain is not just for decoration. If he can play dirty, why can't I?"
"You... you arrogant brat!" Joo hissed, his face turning a dark, dangerous shade of purple. "You are only here because your father bought the building!"
Se-na laughed, a sharp, ringing sound that felt like a slap. "Exactly! Thank goodness I didn't have to remind you. And isn't that wonderful? I have the money, I have the brain, and I have the god-tier hands. You have... what? What do any of you have? A dusty book on ethics, failing skills, trembling hands, and a mortgage you can barely pay?"
She stepped closer, her presence becoming suffocating, the scent of her expensive perfume filling the space between them. "Cuss me all you want behind my back. Call me a spoiled bitch. But the next time your VIP patient is dying on the table and your 'humanity' can't stop the arterial spray, you'll be back here to beg for these hands."
She watched him huffing with indignant rage as he stumbled out, his dignity in tatters. She didn't feel a flicker of guilt. Instead, she called out to his retreating back, her voice echoing down the hall.
"And Dr. Joo? Do set the ethics hearing. I have a few things of my own to bring to the table. Arrange it quickly, would you? If I'm to be suspended for a few months, I'd rather you do it now. I don't have time to waste on paperwork."
She slammed the door shut, after time. Idiots, she murmured under her breath.
Se-na had barely taken two steps toward the couch when another violent bang rattled the door. Her blood pressure spiked, a sharp, hot pulse thrumming in her temples. She ripped the door open, her eyes flashing with a look that would have made anyone flinch.
The head nurse stood there, trembling but determined. "Dr. Maeng... it's time for your rounds. The VIP ward is waiting."
Se-na didn't say a word. She simply grabbed her tablet and marched past the woman, her heels clicking against the linoleum.
The rounds were a bloodbath of sarcasm. She tore into the nurses for the way the IV poles were positioned; she mocked a resident for a slight stutter in his report. By the time they reached the third patient, the entire team was walking on eggshells, terrified to even breathe.
She stopped in front of a first-year resident, a young man who was frantically flipping through a patient's chart.
"You," she snapped. "Why is the potassium level still unadjusted?"
"I-I was just getting to it, Dr. Maeng," he stammered. "I'm sorry, I was distracted by the…"
"I heard your father is a carpenter?" she interrupted.
The resident blinked, confused by the sudden change in topic. "A woodworker, ma'am. He has a small shop in the countryside."
Se-na tilted her head, a mockingly thoughtful expression on her face. "A woodworker. How charming. And is that why you're lazing around here? So you can make his career shine?" she said in front of the patient without any regard.
"Ye... yes?" he asked, his voice small, confused and utterly lost.
Se-na shoved the medical report into his chest with enough force to wind him, and walked away without waiting for a response. "Try to keep up. I don't like slow learners. Otherwise to go to someone else."
As she disappeared into the next room, the young resident stood frozen, clutching the chart to his chest. "What... what did she mean by that?"
.
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"Six months?" she repeated, tilting her head. "In six months, the Director will have lost forty percent of his donors, Dr. Choi will be a depressed alcoholic, and that 'hero' athlete will be a forgotten memory in a graveyard. But please... DO…file the paperwork. I'd love a six-month vacation. I have some properties in Jeju I've been meaning to look at."
She stood up, walking toward him until she was inches away, her gaze cold enough to freeze the room.
"But tell me, Gyosu-nim... when you stand in front of the press to explain why you suspended the only person capable of fixing this hospital's failures, do you think they'll care about my 'tone'? Or will they only care that you let a girl die to protect the Chief's fragile ego?"
She leaned back against her desk, crossing her legs with a slow, deliberate elegance. "Humanity? Ethics? Please, Joo gyosu-nim. You sound like a first-year student who hasn't realized yet that we aren't playing house in a med-school simulation. We are in the field."
Dr. Joo stood paralyzed, his mouth hanging slightly open as the words he wanted to scream died in his throat. He wanted to call her a monster, but the cold, jagged logic of her words held him in a chokehold; he knew what happened in the OR, what the senior nurse did and that the Chief had been ready to sacrifice her, and he knew that today without her the hospital's prestige would be nothing but a hollow shell.
She held up her hands, turning them over as if admiring a piece of fine jewelry. "To me, a body on that slab is just hardware I have to repair with these magical hands. Whether they wake up and thank God or stay dead and go to the morgue... I care the same. It's just a set of cells, tissues, and organs. If the hardware is too broken, it's not my fault. If I fix it, it's my genius."
She leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. "The rest? That's for people like you who get paid to 'feel' things because you aren't skilled enough to actually do things. Did you forget the disaster the surgical panel almost pulled? Or should I remind you that while I was being forced into that OR, the Chief was already preparing to throw me under the bus? Please. My brain is not just for decoration. If he can play dirty, why can't I?"
"You... you arrogant brat!" Joo hissed, his face turning a dark, dangerous shade of purple. "You are only here because your father bought the building!"
Se-na laughed, a sharp, ringing sound that felt like a slap. "Exactly! Thank goodness I didn't have to remind you. And isn't that wonderful? I have the money, I have the brain, and I have the god-tier hands. You have... what? What do any of you have? A dusty book on ethics, failing skills, trembling hands, and a mortgage you can barely pay?"
She stepped closer, her presence becoming suffocating, the scent of her expensive perfume filling the space between them. "Cuss me all you want behind my back. Call me a spoiled bitch. But the next time your VIP patient is dying on the table and your 'humanity' can't stop the arterial spray, you'll be back here to beg for these hands."
She watched him huffing with indignant rage as he stumbled out, his dignity in tatters. She didn't feel a flicker of guilt. Instead, she called out to his retreating back, her voice echoing down the hall.
"And Dr. Joo? Do set the ethics hearing. I have a few things of my own to bring to the table. Arrange it quickly, would you? If I'm to be suspended for a few months, I'd rather you do it now. I don't have time to waste on paperwork."
She slammed the door shut, after time. Idiots, she murmured under her breath.
Se-na had barely taken two steps toward the couch when another violent bang rattled the door. Her blood pressure spiked, a sharp, hot pulse thrumming in her temples. She ripped the door open, her eyes flashing with a look that would have made anyone flinch.
The head nurse stood there, trembling but determined. "Dr. Maeng... it's time for your rounds. The VIP ward is waiting."
Se-na didn't say a word. She simply grabbed her tablet and marched past the woman, her heels clicking against the linoleum.
The rounds were a bloodbath of sarcasm. She tore into the nurses for the way the IV poles were positioned; she mocked a resident for a slight stutter in his report. By the time they reached the third patient, the entire team was walking on eggshells, terrified to even breathe.
She stopped in front of a first-year resident, a young man who was frantically flipping through a patient's chart.
"You," she snapped. "Why is the potassium level still unadjusted?"
"I-I was just getting to it, Dr. Maeng," he stammered. "I'm sorry, I was distracted by the…"
"I heard your father is a carpenter?" she interrupted.
The resident blinked, confused by the sudden change in topic. "A woodworker, ma'am. He has a small shop in the countryside."
Se-na tilted her head, a mockingly thoughtful expression on her face. "A woodworker. How charming. And is that why you're lazing around here? So you can make his career shine?" she said in front of the patient without any regard.
"Ye... yes?" he asked, his voice small, confused and utterly lost.
Se-na shoved the medical report into his chest with enough force to wind him, and walked away without waiting for a response. "Try to keep up. I don't like slow learners. Otherwise to go to someone else."
As she disappeared into the next room, the young resident stood frozen, clutching the chart to his chest. "What... what did she mean by that?"
.
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BHBS: Chapter 6
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Know what you're doing yet?
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The second resident leaned in, he said in a whisper so se-na doesn't hear him, as she move to other patient. "She's taunting you, man," his eyes wide and tone mocking. "She's saying if you stay this incompetent, you'll be killing enough patients that your father's business will never run out of orders for coffins." and then he pat on his shoulder.
The first-year's face went a sickly shade of white. He looked down at the chart in his hands, which was suddenly shivering in his fingers. Se-na heard him but instead of saying anything a smile came on her own face. She didn't feel a flicker of remorse or even the weight of her own words. To her, she was just stating a statistical probability.
She pushed into Room 602, the resident following her without any more talks. The woman on the bed was deathly pale, clutching a rosary so tight her knuckles were white, her eyes raw and puffy. And absolutely Se-na didn't see a mother or a person; she saw a chest cavity that she'd be cracking open in two hours.
"Check her vitals again," Se-na snapped at the nurse, completely ignoring the woman's reaching hand. "Her pressure is too high. If she doesn't stop sobbing, the surgery is canceled. I don't work like this."
"Doctor, please," the woman sobbed, her voice trembling as she clutched her rosary. "I have three kids... I'm so afraid I won't wake up."
Se-na didn't even bother looking up from the report, her thumb tracing the tablet's edge. "Your 'kids' aren't that young," she said, her voice dry. "They're all living their own lives, barely concerned with whether you're breathing or not. It's me saving you; otherwise, I reckon no one really cares if you make it through the night. You should have spent more time writing your will and less time crying over children who haven't visited you once since you were admitted. They aren't 'mother-fed' infants, so stop this nonsense at once if you actually want to live."
Then she turned to the nurse, her tone sharpening. "Nurse, check everything. If there is even a minor discrepancy, report it to me immediately. I don't want some absurd issue landing in front of me once I've already cut her open on the cold slab."
The woman was already scared and these words added to her misery. She flinched and gave a silent sob, but se-na without any regard or word swept out of the room, leaving the poor nurse to console her.
Se-na didn't care about the weight of her vocabulary. Words like "cut up," "on the slab," or "dying" were just technical realities to her. To her, sugarcoating was a form of lying, and she didn't have the energy for either. After the rounds she retreated to the cold sanctuary of her office, looking to bury herself in stats and reports. She was leaning back, eyes scanning the data on her screen, when a notification suddenly popped up on her phone.
It was jarring. She actually jumped, a rare, painful spike of fear hitting her chest. She immediately pressed a hand over her aching heart, forced to take a long, shaky breath.
This was unusual. It had never happened before; the intimidating Maeng Se-na, a woman who wouldn't even flinch in a haunted house, getting scared by a mere vibration. Usually, a notification like that meant a stock she owned was tanking, and she despised the idea of her net worth dropping.
She reached for the phone, her hand still resting on her chest to calm her heart, but the door flew open. "She's ready, Dr. Maeng. Everything is clear."
Se-na let out a heavy, irritated sigh. "Another damn..." she muttered, shutting the phone off without checking the news. She shoved it into her locker and headed for the OR.
The CABG procedure was a brutal marathon. It took her exactly four hours and thirty-six minutes of intense, high-stakes precision. By the time she stepped out, five hours of hectic work had passed, and she was aching in every joint.
She still had to do rounds. The residents were lined up like soldiers, and she tore through them with her usual sharp tongue. By the time the final chart was signed, it was finally time to clock out.
She changed frantically, desperate to get home. But as she headed for the exit, the red alarm the emergency "Code Blue" for the whole department shattered the quiet.
"You've got to be kidding me," she cursed, hitting the elevator button repeatedly.
And then her phone rang.
It read Head Nurse.
She put it on silent.
It rang again.
This time it was The Chief.
"Are we that close?" she hissed at the screen before silencing him too.
"I am not an on-call slave." She said to herself.
She finally made it to the parking lot amid the calls, her mind already on her couch. But when she reached her SUV, her heart dropped. The tire was completely flat not just low, but ruined.
"Damn! Damn! DAMN!" she screamed, her voice the only sound echoing off the concrete walls of the parking garage.
She slammed her palms against the bonnet of the SUV, the metal vibrating under the force of her rage until her hands stung with a dull, throbbing heat. Finally, her strength gave out, and she let her forehead drop onto the cool, hard surface of the hood.
She stayed like that for a moment, eyes squeezed shut, feeling utterly miserable, exhausted, and trapped.
Giving up and sighing, she turned back toward the building to find another way out. But as she approached, she realized the "Code Blue" wasn't a standard emergency. The lobby was a war zone. Media outlets were already swarming the entrance, cameras flashing and reporters shouting, while security struggled to keep them from breaking through the glass doors.
interested she headed into the emergency. Inside, the atmosphere was even more frantic and pure chaos. A man lay on a gurney, his face hidden by a wall of doctors.
"Oooo… another hero, another stock" she said with an eyebrow flash without realizing. "tsk…sadly it seems, they are going to drop." She said as she saw the man's hand limping off the bed.
The Chief of Emergency was nowhere to be seen, and a few terrified novice doctors were confusedly fumbling through resuscitation. Then she heard a nurse screaming, "Where is Dr. Choi? Is there no one on shift? No doctor available? Did you call Dr. Maeng? WE ARE LOOSING HIM!" she barked at the top of her lungs, but before anyone could reply her Dr. Choi burst through the doors behind Se-na, as she was trying to get away, shoving her hard out of the way as he rushed to the bed. But the shove pushed her right up to the gurney, making her look at the man, and for a heartbeat, she was stuck dead. Then, an unbelievable, hysterical smile started to form on her lips. She put her hand to her head, a soft, shaky laugh escaping her.
"hah! This is ... ! I am HALLUCINATING! Am i that much tired that I have finally lost it?" she whispered to herself. She began to back away, her legs heavy as lead, not daring to look at the man again convinced that if she looked away, the hallucination would dissolve.
But the chaos of the ER had no mercy. Another nurse rushed in, shoulder-checking her and pushing her even closer to the metal rail of the bed.
Se-na's eyes were forced back to his face. She looked at the man's face again.
The smile died instantly. The noise of the ER the frantic shouting, the rhythmic beeping of the monitors, the background clamor fell away into a deafening, suffocating muffle. Her body went completely numb, her blood turning to ice in her veins. A high, piercing whistle began to ring in her ears, and her head spun so violently she thought she might hit the floor. it felt as if she was underwater.
The world was a blur of white light and clinical smells until a harsh, commanding voice cracked through her paralysis. It was Dr. Choi, his face glistening with sweat as he hovered over the body.
"CLEAR!"
"SHOCK!"
The man's body jolted, a violent, unnatural thud against the mattress.
The monitor gave a long, flat whine that felt like it was slicing through Se-na's brain.
"CLEAR!
SHOCK!"
Each surge of electricity felt like it was hitting Se-na instead of him.
"CLEAR!
SHOCK!"
.
Enjoy next chapters ahead for FREE at patreon.com/accuscripter and support me starting from JUST $2
The first-year's face went a sickly shade of white. He looked down at the chart in his hands, which was suddenly shivering in his fingers. Se-na heard him but instead of saying anything a smile came on her own face. She didn't feel a flicker of remorse or even the weight of her own words. To her, she was just stating a statistical probability.
She pushed into Room 602, the resident following her without any more talks. The woman on the bed was deathly pale, clutching a rosary so tight her knuckles were white, her eyes raw and puffy. And absolutely Se-na didn't see a mother or a person; she saw a chest cavity that she'd be cracking open in two hours.
"Check her vitals again," Se-na snapped at the nurse, completely ignoring the woman's reaching hand. "Her pressure is too high. If she doesn't stop sobbing, the surgery is canceled. I don't work like this."
"Doctor, please," the woman sobbed, her voice trembling as she clutched her rosary. "I have three kids... I'm so afraid I won't wake up."
Se-na didn't even bother looking up from the report, her thumb tracing the tablet's edge. "Your 'kids' aren't that young," she said, her voice dry. "They're all living their own lives, barely concerned with whether you're breathing or not. It's me saving you; otherwise, I reckon no one really cares if you make it through the night. You should have spent more time writing your will and less time crying over children who haven't visited you once since you were admitted. They aren't 'mother-fed' infants, so stop this nonsense at once if you actually want to live."
Then she turned to the nurse, her tone sharpening. "Nurse, check everything. If there is even a minor discrepancy, report it to me immediately. I don't want some absurd issue landing in front of me once I've already cut her open on the cold slab."
The woman was already scared and these words added to her misery. She flinched and gave a silent sob, but se-na without any regard or word swept out of the room, leaving the poor nurse to console her.
Se-na didn't care about the weight of her vocabulary. Words like "cut up," "on the slab," or "dying" were just technical realities to her. To her, sugarcoating was a form of lying, and she didn't have the energy for either. After the rounds she retreated to the cold sanctuary of her office, looking to bury herself in stats and reports. She was leaning back, eyes scanning the data on her screen, when a notification suddenly popped up on her phone.
It was jarring. She actually jumped, a rare, painful spike of fear hitting her chest. She immediately pressed a hand over her aching heart, forced to take a long, shaky breath.
This was unusual. It had never happened before; the intimidating Maeng Se-na, a woman who wouldn't even flinch in a haunted house, getting scared by a mere vibration. Usually, a notification like that meant a stock she owned was tanking, and she despised the idea of her net worth dropping.
She reached for the phone, her hand still resting on her chest to calm her heart, but the door flew open. "She's ready, Dr. Maeng. Everything is clear."
Se-na let out a heavy, irritated sigh. "Another damn..." she muttered, shutting the phone off without checking the news. She shoved it into her locker and headed for the OR.
The CABG procedure was a brutal marathon. It took her exactly four hours and thirty-six minutes of intense, high-stakes precision. By the time she stepped out, five hours of hectic work had passed, and she was aching in every joint.
She still had to do rounds. The residents were lined up like soldiers, and she tore through them with her usual sharp tongue. By the time the final chart was signed, it was finally time to clock out.
She changed frantically, desperate to get home. But as she headed for the exit, the red alarm the emergency "Code Blue" for the whole department shattered the quiet.
"You've got to be kidding me," she cursed, hitting the elevator button repeatedly.
And then her phone rang.
It read Head Nurse.
She put it on silent.
It rang again.
This time it was The Chief.
"Are we that close?" she hissed at the screen before silencing him too.
"I am not an on-call slave." She said to herself.
She finally made it to the parking lot amid the calls, her mind already on her couch. But when she reached her SUV, her heart dropped. The tire was completely flat not just low, but ruined.
"Damn! Damn! DAMN!" she screamed, her voice the only sound echoing off the concrete walls of the parking garage.
She slammed her palms against the bonnet of the SUV, the metal vibrating under the force of her rage until her hands stung with a dull, throbbing heat. Finally, her strength gave out, and she let her forehead drop onto the cool, hard surface of the hood.
She stayed like that for a moment, eyes squeezed shut, feeling utterly miserable, exhausted, and trapped.
Giving up and sighing, she turned back toward the building to find another way out. But as she approached, she realized the "Code Blue" wasn't a standard emergency. The lobby was a war zone. Media outlets were already swarming the entrance, cameras flashing and reporters shouting, while security struggled to keep them from breaking through the glass doors.
interested she headed into the emergency. Inside, the atmosphere was even more frantic and pure chaos. A man lay on a gurney, his face hidden by a wall of doctors.
"Oooo… another hero, another stock" she said with an eyebrow flash without realizing. "tsk…sadly it seems, they are going to drop." She said as she saw the man's hand limping off the bed.
The Chief of Emergency was nowhere to be seen, and a few terrified novice doctors were confusedly fumbling through resuscitation. Then she heard a nurse screaming, "Where is Dr. Choi? Is there no one on shift? No doctor available? Did you call Dr. Maeng? WE ARE LOOSING HIM!" she barked at the top of her lungs, but before anyone could reply her Dr. Choi burst through the doors behind Se-na, as she was trying to get away, shoving her hard out of the way as he rushed to the bed. But the shove pushed her right up to the gurney, making her look at the man, and for a heartbeat, she was stuck dead. Then, an unbelievable, hysterical smile started to form on her lips. She put her hand to her head, a soft, shaky laugh escaping her.
"hah! This is ... ! I am HALLUCINATING! Am i that much tired that I have finally lost it?" she whispered to herself. She began to back away, her legs heavy as lead, not daring to look at the man again convinced that if she looked away, the hallucination would dissolve.
But the chaos of the ER had no mercy. Another nurse rushed in, shoulder-checking her and pushing her even closer to the metal rail of the bed.
Se-na's eyes were forced back to his face. She looked at the man's face again.
The smile died instantly. The noise of the ER the frantic shouting, the rhythmic beeping of the monitors, the background clamor fell away into a deafening, suffocating muffle. Her body went completely numb, her blood turning to ice in her veins. A high, piercing whistle began to ring in her ears, and her head spun so violently she thought she might hit the floor. it felt as if she was underwater.
The world was a blur of white light and clinical smells until a harsh, commanding voice cracked through her paralysis. It was Dr. Choi, his face glistening with sweat as he hovered over the body.
"CLEAR!"
"SHOCK!"
The man's body jolted, a violent, unnatural thud against the mattress.
The monitor gave a long, flat whine that felt like it was slicing through Se-na's brain.
"CLEAR!
SHOCK!"
Each surge of electricity felt like it was hitting Se-na instead of him.
"CLEAR!
SHOCK!"
.
Enjoy next chapters ahead for FREE at patreon.com/accuscripter and support me starting from JUST $2
BHBS: Chapter 7
New
accuscripter
Know what you're doing yet?
- Joined
- Apr 2, 2025
- Messages
- 211
- Likes received
- 80
To the public, he wasn't just a surgeon; he was an angel in a white coat. While other surgeons spent their rare breaks hunched over lukewarm instant coffee in sterile cafeterias, Ra-ik was usually being pampered. You could easily find him in the hospital's sun-drenched courtyard, eyes closed in serene patience as a makeup artist would delicately touch up his face for a magazine feature or for a live-streamed podcast with award-winning professors.
He was the Medic of the Century, an article once wrote, a young professor and consultant for three European medical boards. But to the world, his brilliance was secondary to his soul or at least, the soul the cameras captured so perfectly.
"Dr. Do! Just one photo for the fans! Please!" a voice cried out, echoing through the lobby.
He stopped in the middle of the bustling Seoul Global Medical Center. He was currently escorting an elderly patient toward the pharmacy, his hand resting gently on her frail, cardigan-clad shoulder, as if he was her devoted and loving grandson.
He didn't look annoyed or rushed. Instead, he turned toward the flurry of unauthorized cameras and flashed a look of genuine, soft-hearted warmth that felt like an embrace or like a warm cup of tea on a cold day.
"Maybe not in the hospital next time, Journalist Im Jae-yi," and then looked around to everyone, "Let's respect the peace of those who are here to heal and keep the path clear for their ease, shall we?" he said so softly and so beautifully. His voice was a perfect blend of a request and command that for a split second no one realized that he had just reprimanded them.
The journalists stood frozen, paralyzed by a sudden, stinging sense of guilt. It was impossible to remain detached when a man of his stature possessed such an eerie, focused memory for every individual he met. He didn't just recognize a face; he greeted them by name, extending that same uncanny attention to the lowliest cameraman and junior assistant, remembering details of their lives checking up on them whenever he saw them again from encounters that had lasted mere seconds. This relentless individualism earned him a devotion that bordered on worship.
They lowered their cameras and hastily started to retreat, feeling like they'd just disappointed their own older brother. As they left, Ra-ik turned back to the elderly woman, his attention shifting back to her as if she were the only person in the building. It was this effortless grace that had earned him the title every news anchor in the country used, "The Nation's Healer."
In another instance he used his sharp mind to his favor, "Of course," his voice smooth. "But I have a condition. Only if you promise to donate the price of a fancy latte to the Children's Heart Fund today. A photo for a life! is it a deal?"
And the crowd erupted into cheers. Within minutes, #DoRaIksDeal was trending #1 on Twitter.
His influence was, frankly, terrifying. Other time, while suffering from a bout of the flu, he'd been photographed at a corner store looking pale, clutching a specific brand of "Cloud-Soft" tissues. That company, which had been three days away from filing for bankruptcy, saw its stock skyrocket so violently that the factory had to run triple shifts to keep up. Ra-ik, being the saint he was, ended up becoming the face of the brand for free, just to keep the workers employed. And later was officially begged and hailed as the brand's ambassador.
Also that time when he was on a podcast and the host leaned in, looking at him with pure adoration. "Dr. Do, how do you stay so... human with all problems? How do you keep your heart so soft in such a hard profession?"
Ra-ik looked directly into the camera, his eyes shimmering with a hint of melancholy that made half the population swoon over him and wanting to reach through the screen and hug him. He adjusted his glasses a pair that was sold out across Asia by midnight.
"Because a patient isn't a problem to be solved," Ra-ik said softly. "They are a story. They are someone's mother, someone's child. If I ever stop feeling their pain, I should stop being a doctor. Shouldn't I?" And the studio audience laughed, charmed by his humility.
He continued, "I believe a doctor without a heart is just a technician. And a technician has no right to treat humans. It's an insult to the life they've lived."
.......
The television was turned up loud, loud enough to drown out the silence and loneliness of her life.
Se-na was sprawled across her velvet couch, a plate of gold-leafed macarons resting in front of her. This was the only time she looked normal maybe stripped of her white coat and wrapped in a heavy silk robe, made her look less like a "sarcastic monster" and more like a bored human.
Her eyes were glued to the screen, watching the very podcast interview. There he was. Do Ra-ik.
It was that scene where the host leaned in, looking at him with pure adoration. "Dr. Do, how do you stay so... human… with all problems? How do you keep your heart so soft in such a hard profession?"
"Because a patient isn't a problem to be solved," he was saying softly. "They are a story. They are someone's mother, someone's child. If I ever stop feeling their pain, I should stop being a doctor. Shouldn't I?" She heard the studio erupting into a laughter.
He continued, "I believe a doctor without a heart is just a technician. And a technician has no right to treat humans. It's an insult to the life they've lived."
Se-na tossed a macaron into her mouth, a stray crumb landing on her silk lap. She pointed the half-eaten sweet at the screen, a deep scowl etching itself onto her face.
"Aye! No! Still frustratingly soft! Tsk," she said at the empty room, shaking her head in disappointment. "That's where I must disagree with you, dear."
She sat up slightly, gesturing with her macaron as if she were debating him in the flesh. "A heart is just a muscle that gets in the way of a steady hand. Like mine."
With a flare of dramatic narcissism, she kissed her right hand, then her left, and looked back at the screen where Ra-ik was offering a saintly smile.
And then she paused and leaned back, chewing slowly. Her eyes softened, just for a fraction of a second, as she traced the lines of his face on the 4K display. He looked tired. No one else would see it, but she saw the slight tension in his jaw.
"But... if you say it," she said with a childish pout looking back down at the macaron, "I suppose I'll have to think about it. Just for a second."
She squeezed her eyes shut, counted to exactly sixty, and then snapped them open. "Done." And then she chuckled to herself.
She had remembered him from the very beginning. In high school, he was the boy who sat rows ahead, the one who took the top spot in every single exam. She had watched him back then with a silent, distant awe that eventually turned into hate so bitter that it always boiled her blood. It wasn't that she worried about her own scores nah never did she ever worry about such simple things like marks and positions after all her intelligence and her power to control the system was a given but she hated the way he shone. He was everyone's favorite, and when he spoke, the world seemed to tilt in his direction. In that specific arena of influence, she found herself competing with him. He was the only person whose shadow was long enough to actually cover her, her rival, her enemy, and the one wall she couldn't seem to climb over.
But somewhere between the years of competition and contempt, the hate had curdled into something else. It wasn't love Se-na didn't believe in something so messy and inefficient like love. It was honor. Yes honor it was.
She respected his meticulous work, his well-thought-out words, and his unshakable logic. He was the only person who made her look at the "human machine" and see something worth respecting. To her, he was the gold standard the only man whose brain was as fast as hers, she always knew that he was sharp and cunning and also that he had a flaw that his heart was inexplicably, frustratingly soft to which she was trying to come terms with.
.
Enjoy next chapters ahead for FREE at patreon.com/accuscripter and support me starting from JUST $2
He was the Medic of the Century, an article once wrote, a young professor and consultant for three European medical boards. But to the world, his brilliance was secondary to his soul or at least, the soul the cameras captured so perfectly.
"Dr. Do! Just one photo for the fans! Please!" a voice cried out, echoing through the lobby.
He stopped in the middle of the bustling Seoul Global Medical Center. He was currently escorting an elderly patient toward the pharmacy, his hand resting gently on her frail, cardigan-clad shoulder, as if he was her devoted and loving grandson.
He didn't look annoyed or rushed. Instead, he turned toward the flurry of unauthorized cameras and flashed a look of genuine, soft-hearted warmth that felt like an embrace or like a warm cup of tea on a cold day.
"Maybe not in the hospital next time, Journalist Im Jae-yi," and then looked around to everyone, "Let's respect the peace of those who are here to heal and keep the path clear for their ease, shall we?" he said so softly and so beautifully. His voice was a perfect blend of a request and command that for a split second no one realized that he had just reprimanded them.
The journalists stood frozen, paralyzed by a sudden, stinging sense of guilt. It was impossible to remain detached when a man of his stature possessed such an eerie, focused memory for every individual he met. He didn't just recognize a face; he greeted them by name, extending that same uncanny attention to the lowliest cameraman and junior assistant, remembering details of their lives checking up on them whenever he saw them again from encounters that had lasted mere seconds. This relentless individualism earned him a devotion that bordered on worship.
They lowered their cameras and hastily started to retreat, feeling like they'd just disappointed their own older brother. As they left, Ra-ik turned back to the elderly woman, his attention shifting back to her as if she were the only person in the building. It was this effortless grace that had earned him the title every news anchor in the country used, "The Nation's Healer."
In another instance he used his sharp mind to his favor, "Of course," his voice smooth. "But I have a condition. Only if you promise to donate the price of a fancy latte to the Children's Heart Fund today. A photo for a life! is it a deal?"
And the crowd erupted into cheers. Within minutes, #DoRaIksDeal was trending #1 on Twitter.
His influence was, frankly, terrifying. Other time, while suffering from a bout of the flu, he'd been photographed at a corner store looking pale, clutching a specific brand of "Cloud-Soft" tissues. That company, which had been three days away from filing for bankruptcy, saw its stock skyrocket so violently that the factory had to run triple shifts to keep up. Ra-ik, being the saint he was, ended up becoming the face of the brand for free, just to keep the workers employed. And later was officially begged and hailed as the brand's ambassador.
Also that time when he was on a podcast and the host leaned in, looking at him with pure adoration. "Dr. Do, how do you stay so... human with all problems? How do you keep your heart so soft in such a hard profession?"
Ra-ik looked directly into the camera, his eyes shimmering with a hint of melancholy that made half the population swoon over him and wanting to reach through the screen and hug him. He adjusted his glasses a pair that was sold out across Asia by midnight.
"Because a patient isn't a problem to be solved," Ra-ik said softly. "They are a story. They are someone's mother, someone's child. If I ever stop feeling their pain, I should stop being a doctor. Shouldn't I?" And the studio audience laughed, charmed by his humility.
He continued, "I believe a doctor without a heart is just a technician. And a technician has no right to treat humans. It's an insult to the life they've lived."
.......
The television was turned up loud, loud enough to drown out the silence and loneliness of her life.
Se-na was sprawled across her velvet couch, a plate of gold-leafed macarons resting in front of her. This was the only time she looked normal maybe stripped of her white coat and wrapped in a heavy silk robe, made her look less like a "sarcastic monster" and more like a bored human.
Her eyes were glued to the screen, watching the very podcast interview. There he was. Do Ra-ik.
It was that scene where the host leaned in, looking at him with pure adoration. "Dr. Do, how do you stay so... human… with all problems? How do you keep your heart so soft in such a hard profession?"
"Because a patient isn't a problem to be solved," he was saying softly. "They are a story. They are someone's mother, someone's child. If I ever stop feeling their pain, I should stop being a doctor. Shouldn't I?" She heard the studio erupting into a laughter.
He continued, "I believe a doctor without a heart is just a technician. And a technician has no right to treat humans. It's an insult to the life they've lived."
Se-na tossed a macaron into her mouth, a stray crumb landing on her silk lap. She pointed the half-eaten sweet at the screen, a deep scowl etching itself onto her face.
"Aye! No! Still frustratingly soft! Tsk," she said at the empty room, shaking her head in disappointment. "That's where I must disagree with you, dear."
She sat up slightly, gesturing with her macaron as if she were debating him in the flesh. "A heart is just a muscle that gets in the way of a steady hand. Like mine."
With a flare of dramatic narcissism, she kissed her right hand, then her left, and looked back at the screen where Ra-ik was offering a saintly smile.
And then she paused and leaned back, chewing slowly. Her eyes softened, just for a fraction of a second, as she traced the lines of his face on the 4K display. He looked tired. No one else would see it, but she saw the slight tension in his jaw.
"But... if you say it," she said with a childish pout looking back down at the macaron, "I suppose I'll have to think about it. Just for a second."
She squeezed her eyes shut, counted to exactly sixty, and then snapped them open. "Done." And then she chuckled to herself.
She had remembered him from the very beginning. In high school, he was the boy who sat rows ahead, the one who took the top spot in every single exam. She had watched him back then with a silent, distant awe that eventually turned into hate so bitter that it always boiled her blood. It wasn't that she worried about her own scores nah never did she ever worry about such simple things like marks and positions after all her intelligence and her power to control the system was a given but she hated the way he shone. He was everyone's favorite, and when he spoke, the world seemed to tilt in his direction. In that specific arena of influence, she found herself competing with him. He was the only person whose shadow was long enough to actually cover her, her rival, her enemy, and the one wall she couldn't seem to climb over.
But somewhere between the years of competition and contempt, the hate had curdled into something else. It wasn't love Se-na didn't believe in something so messy and inefficient like love. It was honor. Yes honor it was.
She respected his meticulous work, his well-thought-out words, and his unshakable logic. He was the only person who made her look at the "human machine" and see something worth respecting. To her, he was the gold standard the only man whose brain was as fast as hers, she always knew that he was sharp and cunning and also that he had a flaw that his heart was inexplicably, frustratingly soft to which she was trying to come terms with.
.
Enjoy next chapters ahead for FREE at patreon.com/accuscripter and support me starting from JUST $2