Another Peaceful Day in the ER

Two days later. The worst stigma of my life proved to be far more persistent than I ever could have anticipated. Over the span of just forty-eight hours, the crude nickname of "the guy who pulled a patient's tooth" had mutated into all sorts of bizarre and insulting variations.

I had been called a dentist, a dental school reject, and even Louis XIV's personal physician. *Damn it.*

But I still had to go to work. A slave bound by the shackles of a monthly paycheck has no such thing as a choice. With hollow eyes, I changed my clothes and boarded the bus. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠*Maybe I should buy a car soon. Ah, right. I don't have a license.* Screw this world, and screw the Road Traffic Authority.

6:58 PM. What a wonderful time to go to work. In two minutes, my night shift would officially begin. Two minutes. It was short if you called it short, and long if... No, it definitely wasn't long. Yeah, right.

The automatic doors of the Emergency Room slid open. The familiar scent of antiseptic, unidentified screams echoing from somewhere, and the dead, bloodshot eyes of sleep-deprived medical staff. Everything was perfectly normal.

Erasing my presence as much as possible to act like an invisible man, I headed toward the Residents' Office.

Well! Another peaceful night shift begins! I wonder how many cases will torture me today!

Forcing a cheerful attitude, I cracked a deeply unfunny joke to myself as I set my bag down. It was at that exact moment.

"Oh~" a painfully familiar voice called out from behind me. "Look who it is! If it isn't the Extraction Man!"

It was the Chief Resident, fourth-year Lee Min-jae. Wearing his signature, incredibly annoying smirk, he slung an arm over my shoulder.

"What are we pulling today? A kidney? Or maybe a gallbladder? If a patient ends up in Han Hyeon-jae's hands, they're getting every single organ harvested! Ahahaha!"

Is that funny? You think that's funny? Forcing down my rotting expression, I squeezed out an awkward laugh. If I took him seriously here, I'd just end up with another shitty title: "the mood-ruining junior." I didn't want to become a voluntary outcast. I had to play along and suck up to them as much as possible to survive.

Ignoring Lee Min-jae, I sat down at the station computer and turned my gaze to the monitor.

Well! Holy shit! It's a total disaster right from the start! Out of thirty-three beds, twenty-three were already occupied. The previous shift hadn't even clocked out yet, and it was already like this. This meant that if even a few more patients arrived tonight, we'd have to set up gurneys in the hallway just to treat them.

As I was sighing while checking the emergency medical status board, Lee Min-jae approached me.

"Han Hyeon-jae, come here." Lee Min-jae sat me down in front of the computer. "Let's update the emergency medical status board messages exactly as I say. This is extremely important, so don't get a single letter wrong."

"Yes, sir."

"Alright, type this in slowly." His voice was low and serious. "First, delete the message saying ENT night emergency care is unavailable..."

My fingers hovered over the keyboard. "Huh? All of a sudden?"

"Apparently, something changed in ENT—whether it's their on-call rotation or staffing. Anyway, they're suddenly very receptive to taking night calls now. It's a massive win for us."

So ENT was back on night duty. I could already hear the difficulty of my shift—as the first line of defense for incoming patients—skyrocketing. I hurriedly logged into the emergency medical status board and began editing the ER notices.

The next command came down. "And change Hematology-Oncology to say they can only accept our hospital's follow-up patients..."

"On it!"

Clack, clack, clack.

"Write that Pediatric Pulmonology is unavailable due to the absence of an attending physician..."

"Yes, sir!"

They said we were in an era of low birth rates, but pediatricians were the ones going extinct first. Thanks to this, I could already picture myself arguing tonight with parents of wheezing babies, trying to explain why we had to transfer them to another hospital.

"And change Ophthalmology to absolutely unavailable."

"Understood."

I replied in a soulless voice, tapping away at the keyboard. The rumors that the ophthalmology on-call system had completely collapsed were true. Now, we'd have to turn away any patient coming in with something in their eye or eye pain on our own.

All the edits were complete. Lee Min-jae glanced over the screen and nodded in satisfaction.

"Perfect. Good job."

At least the beginning was peaceful. Although the ER bed status board boasted a dreadful 23/33, none of them were critical patients requiring immediate medical intervention. Most were stable, waiting for test results, or in the process of being admitted.

I sat in the corner of the station. *If only it could stay like this until my shift ends.*

Ring, ring, ring— The phone began to blare. I picked up the receiver without thinking.

"Yes, Emergency Room."

"Um... my athlete's foot has been really bad for three days now..." ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠A deeply serious, desperate male voice drifted through the receiver.

"..." I was momentarily speechless. *Athlete's foot? You're calling the Emergency Room because of athlete's foot? Is this guy for real?*

This was on par with calling 911 because of a mosquito bite.

"This is the Emergency Room," I replied, my voice as cold and mechanical as an AI, signaling my rejection. Before he could say another word, I slammed the receiver down. *Click.*

Yeah, peaceful. So damn peaceful.

Less than a minute after I went back to staring blankly into space, the phone rang again. *Ring, ring, ring—*

I really didn't want to answer it this time. But ignoring a ringing phone wasn't an option, so with a heavy, miserable ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠sigh, I picked up the receiver once more.

"Yes, Emergency Room."

"Excuse me! We have a huge emergency! My friend was messing around and shoved a grape jelly candy up my nostril, and now it won't come out! I can still breathe, though!"

A young man's panicked voice, on the verge of tears, erupted from the receiver. In the background, I could faintly hear his brainless friend snickering, "Hey, sorry! Hehehe!"

A grape jelly candy. In a nostril. I pressed my temples. *To think a case our newly appointed ENT professor would just love is already lined up.* Technically, this was an emergency. It was a foreign object obstructing an airway.

I replied in my most professional, businesslike voice. "...Please come in. But the wait time is going to be very long."

This wasn't a lie. There were already over twenty patients waiting. We'd only be able to extract that grape jelly after seeing all of them. It would be a miracle if the jelly didn't melt and start dripping out like snot by then.

I hung up and stared at the ceiling. *God, Buddha, Allah. Why on earth are you testing me like this?*

My prayers went unanswered. Instead of a response, the heavens sent a third phone call. *Ring, ring, ring—*

*What kind of idiot is it this time?* Resigned to my fate, I picked up the receiver.

"I'd like to get an IV drip for my hangover and some nutrients. Can you prescribe that in the ER?"

This time, it was the calm, refined voice of a middle-aged man. However, the content of his request was anything but refined. I didn't even feel it was worth answering.

"...This is the Emergency Room." *Click.*

I set the receiver down and sank deep into my chair. *Why are there so many telephone villains today?* Shaking my head, I began to contemplate this crazy world once more.

Is there even anything left for me after rolling around like this? Letting out a hollow laugh, I suddenly remembered my only reward system. *Sigh... let's check how many points I've accumulated.* I opened the Gallery window out of habit.

Considering what I'd done, shouldn't there be a decent amount? The myocardial infarction ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠case was huge, after all. Maybe I'd managed to gather around 800 LP? I stared at the [LP Balance] section. And then, I doubted my own eyes.

...? Oh? I felt happier than if 15 million won had suddenly been deposited into my bank account. Well, maybe not *that* happy. But still, I was incredibly thrilled.

What exactly did I do? I retraced my memories of the past few days. The faces of the patients I had treated flashed through my mind like a kaleidoscope.

Ah, right. The myocardial infarction... and that middle-aged man who complained of a sore throat. A ticking time bomb with an inferior wall MI and RV Infarction whom I had almost sent home with just cold medicine. That case probably accounted for the bulk of the points.

Then there was the Dried Seaweed Man... the guy who turned the ER upside down after eating dried seaweed like it was chips. We made a huge fuss thinking it was a bowel obstruction before finally transferring him to Gastroenterology. But I guess it was still recognized as a medical act. I learned a new fact: even the most absurd cases could yield points.

And the Buldak Man... the lunatic who tried to self-harm with capsaicin. What did I even do for him? Ah, I couldn't even find a vein properly, so I had to hand him over to the nurse. But I guess my contributions—ordering IV fluids, administering painkillers, and kindly pointing him to the restroom—were recognized. The system was surprisingly generous.

Staring at the number 1,522, I fell into a happy dilemma for a moment. *What should I do with this? Should I chug a whole bowl of fatigue recovery potions?* No. Here was my plan. First, I needed to save up 5,000 LP.

An absolute cheat of a skill. You never knew. There might come a time when a patient was in critical condition and required a procedure, but my hands were completely useless. I was still only half a doctor. I could borrow a brain, but I couldn't borrow hands. Even just thirty minutes would be a monumental amount of time for both the patient and me. 5,000 LP was by no means a steep price to pay for that. Until that day... well, I just had to do my best.