Chapter 36
Chapter 36
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Possession (3)
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While Yoo Sung-hoon lifted the patient's chin to secure the airway, Nam Joo-hyun mouthed a self-deprecating curse as he struggled to find a vein in the patient's arm.
But because shock had caused all the veins to constrict, the needle kept stabbing at empty air.
“Can't get the line! Han Hyun-jae, get over here and compress the wound directly! Press down as hard as you can!”
I overlapped both hands over the wound where blood was surging out in gushes and pressed down like mad, throwing my full body weight into it.
“Running FAST! Move!”
Park Se-young grabbed the ultrasound probe.
She pressed the probe against various spots on the patient's abdomen, and her brow furrowed in despair as she stared at the monitor.
“The entire peritoneal cavity is full of blood? Worse than before! At this rate, they won't last ten minutes!”
A shrill alarm blared wildly from the monitor.
I desperately held on while compressing the wound.
Hot blood kept forcing its way out between my fingers.
I stole glances at the seniors' faces.
Sweat beaded Park Se-young's forehead, who was always so cool-headed, and Yoo Sung-hoon's skilled hands trembled faintly.
“Got one line!”
The blood pressure monitor's numbers plunged mercilessly past the 60s.
58, 55, 52…
“Blood pressure dropping into the 50s! At this rate…”
Park Se-young's voice cracked with despair.
We were squeezing O-type blood packs in like crazy, but it was like pouring a bucket of water into a burst dam.
The patient's body was spilling blood like a bottomless jar, and all our efforts only delayed death by the tiniest margin.
“Trauma surgery call done? When are they coming!”
Yoo Sung-hoon shouted, his sweat-slicked face shining.
“The fastest team's at least fifteen minutes out! They're in surgery right now…”
The nurse's answer was as good as a death sentence.
Fifteen minutes.
In this state, they wouldn't last five, let alone fifteen.
The patient's face no longer looked like that of the living.
Everyone knew it.
We were losing.
This fight was slipping from our hands.
I felt strength draining from my hands compressing the wound.
The warmth of the blood seeping through my gloves felt heavy.
Is this how it ends?
Is someone really going to die right in front of my eyes, right under my hands?
It was right then.
In my mind, a single possibility sprouted—ice-cold and utterly alien.
[Possession]
[Price: 5,000 LP]
‘Fuck.’
No choice.
My pride, the seniors' eyes on me, the hospital's rules, and the twelve hours of hellish pain after using the skill.
I weighed it all.
On the other side lay this man's life.
The scales tipped one way.
‘…Do it.’
I closed my eyes while pressing down on the blood-soaked wound.
I blocked out all the noise in my head.
Then, pouring all my will into it, I summoned one name.
‘Possession. God's Scalpel.’
In that instant, the world flipped.
It wasn't my vision blacking out or losing consciousness.
The opposite, in fact.
Everything became hyper-clear.
The cold air of the resuscitation room, the metallic stench of blood assaulting my nose, the blaring monitor alarms.
Every sense amplified dozens of times over.
So this is what possession feels like.
It's my viewpoint, but it doesn't feel like mine…?
The world was still visible through my eyes.
But the one perceiving that world wasn't me.
It felt like I'd been shoved into the farthest corner of the cockpit of my own body, a terrified spectator.
My arms and legs, my voice—none of it felt like mine anymore.
Some foreign entity had seized complete control of this body.
My hand moved.
No, his hand moved.
And my mouth opened.
“…What is this place?”
It was my voice, but not my intonation.
That single phrase halted every motion in the chaotic resuscitation room.
Park Se-young, Yoo Sung-hoon, Nam Joo-hyun, even the nurses.
Everyone froze what they were doing and stared at me in shock.
“What? Han Hyun-jae, what the hell are you saying?”
Park Se-young shot back in disbelief.
“…Hemoperitoneum?”
“We already said that! Han Hyun-jae, snap out of it?”
Yoo Sung-hoon couldn't hold back and yelled.
His eyes held the conviction that in this insane situation, the first-year rookie had finally cracked under the pressure.
The me inside screamed.
‘You crazy antisocial ghost bastard!! Show some respect! RESPECT!!!!! Those people are your seniors… no, MY seniors, you fucker!!!!!’
But my screams didn't reach.
The owner of my body ignored Yoo Sung-hoon's shout like background noise and scanned the stainless steel tray.
Then he revealed his true intent.
“Scalpel.”
The air in the resuscitation room froze solid.
“…What did you say?”
Nam Joo-hyun echoed in disbelief.
“Hand me the scalpel.”
This time, clearer.
Laced with irritation.
In that moment, everyone's reason snapped.
“Have you lost your mind?”
A low curse burst from Park Se-young's lips.
“Hey, Han Hyun-jae! Are you sane right now? What do you plan to do with a scalpel here! You gonna slice open the patient's gut? Watch a drama last night? Want your license revoked? Wanna end your career as a doctor?!”
“Are you seriously not snapping out of it?”
Nam Joo-hyun's face flushed red with rage.
He looked ready to grab me by the collar any second.
“Hey! You hear all that genius talk and double-board prep bullshit, think you're the drama hero now? This is insane! INSANE!! Touch the patient with a scalpel here and we're all done for!”
Park Se-young's wail filled the resuscitation room.
Feeling the rage, contempt, and faint undercurrent of fear, the me inside despaired.
‘Fuck… we're screwed. This ghost bastard's ruining my life…!’
God's Scalpel ignored the barrage of blame and reached for the tray.
“Number 10 blade.”
“God, this is frustrating. Hey!!! You're a first-year!! Emergency Medicine, no less!! You're not in a position to touch a scalpel, you lunatic!!”
Park Se-young screamed near tears.
“Han Hyun-jae! Hey, someone grab Hyun-jae! He's not right in the head—grab him!”
Yoo Sung-hoon's desperate shout cut through the resuscitation room.
At his words, second-year Nam Joo-hyun and a nearby intern lunged to restrain me.
We're fucked.
If a brawl breaks out here, this patient is done.
Please, just listen to the ghost bastard.
But God's Scalpel seemed to mock the chaos as he began moving at insane speed.
God's Scalpel reached for the stainless steel tray.
My hand—no, God's Scalpel's hand—didn't grab the number 10 blade first.
A sterilized forceps clamped tight around a massive bundle of antiseptic gauze.
And a bottle of Betadine filled with reddish-brown liquid.
“Hey, you…!”
Before Nam Joo-hyun could yell more, the bottle cap was already off.
The next instant, God's Scalpel tilted the bottle and poured the gushing Betadine solution straight onto the gauze.
‘This maniac! We have to conserve hospital supplies!’
But such petty thrift meant nothing to God's Scalpel.
God's Scalpel leaned over the patient's abdomen with the Betadine-soaked gauze dripping steadily.
In one fluid motion, he wiped the entire abdomen from the xiphoid to the upper pubic symphysis in a massive circle.
Fast, broad, unhesitating strokes.
“…….”
At the sight, Nam Joo-hyun—who'd been coming to grab me—and Yoo Sung-hoon—who'd been shouting—froze in place.
The moment disinfection finished, his other hand was already ripping open a sterile drape pack.
The blue sterile drape unfurled with a whoosh in midair. God's Scalpel draped it precisely over the patient.
“Crazy…”
Someone murmured lowly.
The movements didn't stop.
Like a divinely inspired craftsman, God's Scalpel laid out sterile drapes on both sides and the upper body in seconds. Unfolding the folded drape, positioning it, unfolding the next—all flowed as one seamless motion.
The me inside simply watched in awe as my body put on the show.
‘Ah, so that's how it's done. That fast and that precise.’
Finally, God's Scalpel secured the edges of the four sterile drapes with towel clips.
Click, click, click, click.
In just thirty seconds. What would've taken me fumbling five minutes normally was done in thirty.
Silence blanketed the resuscitation room.
No one in the resuscitation room saw a 'crazed first-year Han Hyun-jae' anymore.
They were witnessing something that utterly shattered their common sense.
Something that ignored every senior's words, draped the sterile field in a flash, disinfected the abdomen, and was truly preparing to cut.
And at last, God's Scalpel's hand picked up the number 10 blade.
Under the resuscitation room's cold lights, the silver blade gleamed coldly.
Han Hyun-jae—or rather, the God's Scalpel possessing my body—gazed down at the perfectly prepped surgical field with the scalpel in hand.
No, to be precise, a laughable makeshift operating table among makeshift tables.
The moment he saw it, Yoo Sung-hoon's face went sheet-white.
He realized.
This wasn't a joke.
That crazy first-year intern was really going to do it.