Chapter 62
Chapter 62
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: One-Star Amusement Park (5)
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Police?
Right now? From just this one bone X-ray?
I thought this crazy ghost had finally lost it and was spouting nonsense about calling the cops on a kid with a broken bone.
> Hell Joseon Slave 1: If the kid's leg is broken, you call orthopedics, not the police.
> Pediatric Ghost 77: Take another look at that X-ray. That smashed-up part you mentioned earlier? Know what that's called? CML. Classic Metaphyseal Lesion.
> Pediatric Ghost 77: It's a fracture where the bone near the growth plate tears off in fine fragments. You can't get it from just falling. It's the strongest, most textbook medical evidence of child abuse—only happens when someone grabs the kid's arm or leg and twists or shakes it with brutal force.
...CML?
...Oh!
The gray forensics lecture hall.
The professor's blank face.
And on the screen, a black-and-white image identical to that X-ray.
Damage unique to child abuse cases.
The memory I'd memorized to death finally clicked.
> Hell Joseon Slave 1: Any chance it's something else? Like a genetic disease, osteogenesis imperfecta?
> Pediatric Ghost 77: Dumbass. What'd the guardians say?
> Hell Joseon Slave 1: Walker got caught on a furniture ledge, kid fell.
> Pediatric Ghost 77: You learn that low-energy falls cause CML? Kid would need to be hit by a Piddle-Stick of Piddle-Sticks for that bone to snap like that from a walker tip. No matter how fragile a baby is, that kind of damage doesn't happen from a fall. Poor little thing must've suffered hell.
> Pediatric Ghost 77: And a walker? Bullshit lololol. If they were innocent, why lie?
...Ah.
I stood up and crossed the station.
Lee Min-jae.
Lee Min-jae was reviewing another patient's chart, instructing an intern.
I approached from behind, trying hard not to let my voice shake as I called out.
"Teacher."
"What?"
He turned his head indifferently.
"The C-7 kid's X-ray..."
"Oh, the one we suspected fracture on? What's up? We were gonna half-cast and discharge, right? Turns out it wasn't a fracture."
"No, just... take a look at this for a sec."
I led Lee Min-jae to an empty terminal in the corner.
I pulled up the problematic X-ray with the mouse.
"Sheesh, what now... We already looked. It was clean."
Lee Min-jae peered at the screen, annoyed.
Without a word, I zoomed in on that faint shadow I'd spotted earlier.
"Why zoom here..."
Annoyance faded from Lee Min-jae's face.
His eyes narrowed.
His brow furrowed deeply.
The smirk vanished from his lips.
His face hardened like stone.
"Hey, this is..."
"...Yeah, right?"
We stared silently at that tiny black-and-white image for a long time.
One faint line in the photo screamed a massive, horrific truth at us.
"I'll go right now and ask the entrance security to check if those guardians are trying to slip out. You file the report immediately. Quietly brief the other nurse teachers too. Don't let the guardians catch on."
"Got it."
He gripped my shoulder hard once, then walked calmly toward the ER entrance like nothing was wrong.
I picked up the phone with trembling hands.
My fingers wouldn't obey.
112.
Riiing-
[This is Emergency 112.]
"Hello... This is the pediatric ER at Cheongjin University Medical Center. Calling about a suspected child abuse case."
***
I set down my phone and glanced toward Bed C-7.
Hellish surveillance began.
Time in the ER flowed on the surface just like always.
Crying patients, nurses' hurried footsteps, machines' monotonous alarms.
But reality was different.
Lee Min-jae loitered near the entrance, chatting with security to block the guardians' exit without raising suspicion.
Veteran nurse Teacher Jung slipped into the curtain every ten minutes, saying, "Gonna check the IV drip," casually checking the kid and the parents.
I sat at the station's most secluded spot, with a clear view of Bed C-7, pretending to review meaningless charts while watching.
Now that I looked, the parents' faces seemed a bit off.
At first, I'd thought they were just ordinary parents, frazzled and scared because their kid was hurt.
But through the horrific lens of abuse, every move looked suspicious.
The parents stood by the bed, fiddling endlessly with their phones.
No looking down at the kid, no talking to him, no touching him.
I watched anxiously, praying my judgment was right—and wrong.
How much time passed?
Through the ER's full-glass windows, red and blue flashing lights approached.
My heart dropped.
Moments later, a squad car pulled into the hospital rotary.
Doors opened. Two officers headed for the ER auto-doors.
Whirr-
The doors slid open. The cops entered the pediatric ER.
They went straight to the station.
"We got a child abuse suspicion report here. Where's the reporter and the kid?"
I stood immediately.
"I made the report. Patient's in curtained Bed C-7 over there."
The officer nodded. He turned to the younger cop beside him.
"Joon-soo. I'll check the kid and scene first. You separate the guardians—take 'em apart, one by one."
"Yes, sir."
Confirming the young cop heading to the bed, the senior turned to me.
"Doctor, mind coming with me?"
"Sure."
"As we go, explain that medical finding from the report in terms I can understand."
"First, the guardians said the kid was in a walker, it caught on a furniture ledge, and he fell."
"Yeah, got that."
The officer pulled out a notepad.
I turned on the monitor and zoomed the photo.
"But the finding on this X-ray couldn't come from a walker fall. We call it CML..."
Damn. CML. How to explain this to a layperson.
My brain buffered. Pretending to think, I stared into space, summoning my mental gurus.
> Hell Joseon Slave 1: How tf do you explain CML to cops??? Help
> Pediatric Ghost 77: Say the bone near the growth plate is structurally weak 'cause it's attached to cartilage. And the damage type is totally different from a blunt fall impact. Ugh, fucking pisses me off. Why hit a kid?
> Bone Maniac 88: Courtroom evidence. Say that exactly. It's one of the most specific child abuse findings in forensic textbooks. Unlike bruises or fractures from other diseases—this is slam-dunk proof.
"The ends of bones in kids who haven't finished growing—near the growth plates—are structurally very fragile. But this damage on the X-ray almost never happens from simple falls or bumps. It only shows up from grabbing the leg and twisting or yanking hard. It's one of the findings forensics uses as strong evidence of child abuse."
The officer's face turned icy.
He jotted notes furiously, not missing a word.
"Got it so far..."
Before he finished.
From the consult room where the young cop had taken the parents, shouting erupted.
"What the hell are you people! Why're you separating me from my kid! You got a warrant? I'm calling my lawyer! Is this how authority works?"
The father's voice.
"Kid's sick, we come to the hospital, and now cops show up causing a scene! What'd we do wrong!"
The mother's shrill scream followed.
I whipped my head that way.
Through the consult room door crack, the young cop's placating voice leaked.
"Medical staff suspects child abuse, so we're just following procedure to check..."
"What abuse! That scrawny doctor was talking crap earlier!"
"Give us our kid back so we can leave! Now!"
Chaos exploded in seconds.
The senior officer beside me just let out a deep sigh.
"...Hah..."
He turned to me.
"Doctor. That reaction, plus your medical findings. Paints the picture pretty clear."
He closed his notepad.
"We'll check further for other abuse signs. Need to inspect the kid's body for more injuries. Cooperate?"
"Of course."
We headed back to Bed C-7.
Inside the curtain, the kid was alone.
He'd stopped crying, eyes wide with fear at the strange surroundings, glancing around.
"Hey, little guy. Uncle here's not scary. Me and the police uncle we saw earlier—gonna check if anything else hurts, okay? Just a bit more?"
Not sure if he understood, but the kid nodded faintly.