Chapter 1
The Trauma Bay (the critical trauma area) was located inside the emergency room of Solas Medical Center.
Suji was on night duty and staying there. Her wristwatch showed 3 a.m.
Maybe tonight will end quietly without any major problems, she thought.
To fight off her sleepiness, she lifted her arms and stretched.
Right then, a stretcher pushed open the doors of the Trauma Bay with force.
Suji jumped up from her seat in shock.
What? Why so suddenly?
There had been no call about an incoming emergency patient.
No announcement, no warning from the medical staff, not even the sound of an ambulance.
Around the stretcher were one nurse and five large men dressed in black civilian clothes.
The atmosphere felt completely different from normal, and Suji immediately realized:
the patient on that stretcher was not an ordinary person.
Wearing sterile gloves, Suji stepped closer.
The men glared at her with sharp, guarded eyes.
One of the men was pressing a towel firmly onto the center of the patient’s abdomen.
“You’re trying to stop the bleeding, right? I’ll take over.”
A strong metallic smell of blood hit her.
Suji wrapped the blood pressure cuff and attached the ECG pads.
“Blood pressure 102 over 64. Heart rate 98. Oxygen saturation 97%…”
The monitor blinked and gave a warning sound.
“Is it a stab wound? Or a gunshot wound?”
“…We think it’s a gunshot.”
“And your relationship to the patient?”
“…..”
The men stayed silent, only looking at each other as if unsure what to say.
Suji was about to ask what on earth was going on—
Bang!
Professor Crowell and Lucas stepped into the Trauma Bay.
Both of them looked very serious.
They’re not even working tonight… why are they here?
“Where is the bleeding?”
Professor Crowell asked.
“Center of the abdomen, lower right side. Likely a gunshot wound. We don’t know if it’s a penetrating shot. Bleeding is not controlled.”
“Keep pressing.”
“Yes, professor.”
While the two spoke, Lucas took equipment from the cart—
gauze, IV set, and a clamp.
Lucas held the patient’s arm steady and inserted the needle to start the IV.
“The operating room is ready. Let’s move the patient now.”
Lucas nodded at Professor Crowell.
Then Professor Crowell looked at Suji.
“Dr. Park, you come with us.”
“M-me?”
“Why? Is there a problem?”
“No, no problem.”
Lucas let out a low sigh and walked out of the Trauma Bay.
The men in black followed close behind.
“Oxygen level is stabilizing.”
The anesthesiologist said, and Professor Crowell nodded.
The monitor tones slowly returned to normal.
“Thankfully, the surgery went well.”
He threw off his gloves and added:
“And Dr. Park, I need a word with you.”
Professor Crowell was a senior attending surgeon, older and more conservative than Dr. Cavill.
He valued rules and order in the hospital, disliked jokes, and always looked serious.
“I’m sure you noticed that today’s patient is not a normal patient.”
“…Yes, professor.”
“The patient belongs to the VIP division. That’s why the transfer was done secretly.”
“VIP?”
“Yes. You know the VIP protocol, right?”
“Yes, I know.”
Suji was familiar with the hospital’s VIP patient rules—
protecting their information, using special hallways and rooms, signing confidentiality papers.
Most VIPs didn’t want anyone to know they were being treated, unless it helped with publicity.
“Since things happened this way, I want you to join the VIP care team.”
“Me?”
VIP ward was normally off-limits to interns.
Usually only third-year residents and above were allowed.
But Suji had only been an intern for three months.
It was shocking.
“I have two reasons for choosing you.
First, you were already there in the trauma scene.
Second, you seem trustworthy and quiet.”
“…….”
“So take responsibility and don’t let any VIP information leak.”
“Professor… about the patient’s details… may I at least know who I’m treating?”
“Hm.”
Professor Crowell rubbed his rough chin slowly.
“He’s someone who helps Solas Medical Center run without worrying about money. The latest equipment, research funds, donations—everything is thanks to his support. So of course we must do as he wants. The gunshot patient is an employee of his company.”
“…….”
“What the VIP wants most is secrecy. So don’t ask about the patient’s identity, and don’t try to find out. That doesn’t matter. As medical professionals, we only focus on helping the patient recover.”
“Yes, professor.”
“Dr. Lucas Harrington will be the primary doctor.”
“Yes, professor… but do we know how the patient got shot?”
“What did I just say?”
“…….”
“It doesn’t matter how or where he was shot.”
“Did you inform the police?”
“Of course I did! I told you—those things are not your concern!”
“Then…”
Suji tried to continue questioning, but Professor Crowell frowned deeply.
“You should go now. Yes, that’s best. Let’s end the conversation here.”
With a forced smile, he practically pushed Suji out.
After resting for half a day, Suji returned to work in the afternoon and headed straight to the VIP ward’s ICU.
Even though a big incident happened that dawn, everything was peaceful now.
“When you start your shift, check the drainage tube first. Look at the amount with your own eyes. After you organize the drainage, inject 0.2 mg of hydromorphone.”
The VIP patient had only recently finished emergency surgery.
Right after surgery, patients often suffered extreme pain or anxiety from the gunshot.
In that state, blood pressure could easily spike,
so she had to treat it early before complications appeared.
The ICU nurse, who had a cold expression, immediately recognized Suji.
She glanced between Suji’s nametag and the memo in her hand.
“You’re the intern sent by Professor Crowell, right? …Dr. Park?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
It was Suji’s first time entering the VIP ward, and the atmosphere felt unfamiliar and heavy.
The nurse kindly guided her toward the ICU entrance.
As expected, the same large men—five of them—stood guarding the door.
They wore holsters at their waists, though Suji didn’t see any actual guns since firearms were banned in hospitals.
Their expressions were so stern and cold that just making eye contact made her shiver.
The nurse spoke with the one who seemed to be the leader.
After a short exchange, the man personally opened the door for Suji.
At that moment—
A deep, solid voice spoke behind her.
“Suji.”
Golden blond hair with natural waves, emerald eyes, and a face shaped as if made by God Himself—
it was Lucas Harrington.
A surgical fellow, Suji’s long-time first love,
and the man who had rejected her two times.
But Suji still hadn’t given up.
She planned to confess one more time—her last try.
Her grandfather always told her:
“Koreans say everything must be done three times before you give up.”
At least three tries—only then can you let go.
And Suji had lived her life following that rule.
