I Can't Let Them Squeeze Him to Death!
The day was peaceful at Daehan Central University Hospital. Or perhaps calling the largest university hospital in the country “peaceful” sounded a little strange. This place was always busy. The outpatient waiting area had been packed with patients since morning, and ambulances never stopped arriving at the emergency center. Rounds moved through the wards, names were called in the examination rooms, and guardians bit their dry lips while waiting outside the operating theaters.
But compared to a week ago—when that B-class hunter from the Geumseong Guild had been rushed in—this was peaceful enough. At least today, the medical staff hadn’t had to sprint out to the first-floor lobby. There was no emergency broadcast echoing throughout the entire hospital, no security guards blocking the entrance to the Hunter Trauma Center, no swarm of reporters shoving cameras in everyone’s faces, and certainly no two A-class hunters glaring at each other in the middle of the hospital as if they wanted to tear one another apart.
If this were a small neighborhood clinic, maybe things would be different. But by the standards of a university hospital, this counted as a relatively peaceful day.
Except for one person.
“Ziiiiiiiiing.”
“Um… Dr. Na? You’re supposed to start rounds soon…”
“Ziiiiiiiiing.”
Only Na Hayeong was anything but peaceful.
In the small park tucked inside Daehan Central University Hospital, a child in a patient gown sat in a wheelchair while Seo Jihoo carefully pushed it from behind. It was part of the special observation program—taking pediatric patients for a walk. And from behind the corner of a building, Na Hayeong stared at them with piercing intensity.
I’m always watching you!
She looked as if she wanted to declare that fact with her entire body, even adding her own sound effects out loud.
“Ziiiiiiiiing!!”
The resident standing beside her called out cautiously, but Hayeong reacted a beat too late. This had been happening more and more often lately. She would miss the start of rounds, ignore conference calls, and sometimes just stare into space during preoperative briefings. Or rather, not into space—toward wherever Seo Jihoo was likely to be.
The reason was simple. Next week, that man would return to the university.
A genius the likes of which this era would never see again. No, even calling him a genius wasn’t enough. A monster of a doctor. And that existence was about to finish a mere one-month special observation program and disappear back into a medical school lecture hall.
“Jihoo… why don’t you understand how I feel…?”
Na Hayeong gritted her teeth.
And of all the career paths he could choose, he wanted to open a neighborhood clinic. From what she’d heard, he planned to go somewhere rural or on the outskirts where medical infrastructure was lacking and quietly run a small hospital. A place with low surgical demand, almost no emergency calls, and a relaxed schedule.
The idea itself wasn’t bad. From a man’s perspective, it might even be a wise choice.
But to Hayeong, it was nothing short of burying a treasure in the ground and letting it rot.
A week ago, during the surgery on B-class hunter Jang Mihyeon, Na Hayeong had been forced to admit it. Seo Jihoo wasn’t just special as a hunter. Of course, the hunter-exclusive scalpel that could cut through reinforced B-class tissue without resistance was already absurd. The ability to analyze the mana layer of the thoracic cavity, assist with incision depth, and manifest equipment with a flick of a finger was also an area she had never witnessed before.
But that wasn’t what truly terrified her.
It was the diagnosis. The judgment. And those hands.
Even when everyone’s attention was focused on the abdominal bleeding, he had identified the real cause of death first.
Tension pneumothorax. Air leaking from the torn lung had become trapped in the thoracic cavity, building pressure that crushed the lung and heart, killing the patient. It was a moment even experienced doctors could miss. When people see blood, they focus on the blood. When the belly is torn open, they look at the belly first.
But not Seo Jihoo.
Shallow breathing. Asymmetrical chest movement. Lip color. Slight jugular vein distension. The pattern of shock. He had tied those tiny fragments together in an instant and found the answer. Then he trusted that answer and moved immediately.
That was what drove Na Hayeong the craziest.
He wasn’t some rookie with nothing but talent. He wasn’t an inexperienced genius, either. Those hands already belonged to a surgeon who had saved countless patients.
This doesn’t make sense.
Na Hayeong was no ordinary doctor herself. She had awakened as a hunter in childhood and redirected the unique senses of her beastification lineage toward medicine. She had completed a special accelerated course in the United States, where the hunter medical system was more advanced, and obtained both her medical license and hunter specialist qualification faster than anyone else. After returning to Korea, she had saved numerous high-risk patients at the Hunter Trauma Center.
The Golden Scalpel of the Hunter Trauma Center—that was the nickname she had earned.
Even she had been forced to acknowledge it after watching Seo Jihoo’s surgery. That was a realm she could not reach.
And yet.
“Damn it…”
Why was he trying to waste such talent like this?! Not at the Hunter Trauma Center, not even at the university—just some quiet neighborhood clinic.
But the problem wasn’t only his career path.
Becoming a doctor wasn’t as simple as attending medical school for six years. After the national medical licensing exam and obtaining a license, one could open a clinic as a general practitioner without pursuing specialist training. Since Seo Jihoo had just finished his first year, he still had at least five years left. It was neither particularly long nor short.
The real issue was whether he would survive that time safely.
The National Reproductive Resource Management Agency. An international organization created under the pretext of managing men’s genetic information and reproductive cells. There was justification for its necessity in maintaining the collapsed gender ratio. In reality, thanks to its existence, birth rates and genetic diversity had been kept at a certain level.
But separate from that, there were always complaints about men’s human rights—especially for men with superior genes.
Intelligence high enough to pass medical school. Talent coveted by the hunter medical world. And on top of that, the male gender.
If a man like Seo Jihoo said he would skip their management network entirely and go open a quiet clinic in the countryside instead?
There was no way the Agency would let that happen.
Even the matter of advancing to second year had been like that. On the surface, they talked about grades, safety, and clinical adaptability, but in truth it was nothing more than an excuse to throw a first-year male student into the middle of Daehan Central University Hospital, where people died every single day.
To anyone living in this world, that was not a normal idea.
At least Jihoo was far more capable than anyone imagined, so he made it through safely. If it had been an ordinary man, the fear of death might have turned him into a wreck!
But what about after that?
Na Hayeong’s eyes narrowed.
They would definitely reach out again. The moment that thought crossed her mind, an inexplicable urgency surged in her chest.
This is a dark story not well known to the public… but it’s said that some men who enter the Reproductive Resource Agency die from machine-induced ‘post-ejaculatory death’ around their forties.
It doesn’t appear in official statistics. If it does, it’s wrapped in plausible medical terms—declining stamina, hormonal imbalance, nervous system fatigue, reproductive dysfunction. But inside the medical community, the rumors were far more blunt.
They get squeezed too much. They’re managed for too long. Until their bodies can’t endure it anymore.
I can’t lose Jihoo like that!
Strength flowed into Na Hayeong’s fingertips. This wasn’t just personal greed. Tying Seo Jihoo to the Hunter Trauma Center was the right thing for all of humanity. His talent was absolutely necessary in this era of dungeons and hunters.
So if kind words didn’t work, she would use slightly bad methods… Even if it meant blackmail, it would still be better than death.
Even if Jihoo ends up resenting me for it… I don’t want to see that child dragged away by the Agency!
Na Hayeong already held one card in her hand.
A week ago, the true protagonist who had saved B-class hunter Jang Mihyeon. At the time, Seo Jihoo had asked to have his name removed from the case because he didn’t want to stand out. So the person who had stood before the reporters was Na Hayeong. Officially, she had become the hero who saved Jang Mihyeon.
But the credit had originally belonged to Seo Jihoo.
If I offer to return it…
No, she didn’t even need to offer it outright. Just subtly hinting at it would be enough. No matter how resolute Seo Jihoo was, he wouldn’t be able to ignore that. The pressure of the spotlight he had tried to avoid suddenly swinging back toward him. If she could create that opening, it would be sufficient.
While he was flustered, she would persuade him somehow. About how necessary the Hunter Trauma Center was. How many people he could save there. And above all, how desperately Na Hayeong herself needed a man like Seo Jihoo.
“Hehehehe… You can’t run away…”
“Hiiik?! Dr. Na?”
A sinister smile spread across Na Hayeong’s lips. Even though the resident respected her as a senior doctor, that expression was honestly a little frightening. He reflexively took half a step back.
But she didn’t care at all. Her gaze remained fixed on Seo Jihoo in the distance, still pushing the wheelchair.
That was when it happened.
“Dr. Na Hayeong!”
An urgent voice cut through the air. Hayeong’s eyes changed instantly. The playfulness and obsession vanished, replaced by the specialist of the Hunter Trauma Center. When someone ran to find her at Daehan Central University Hospital and called it an emergency, the reason was obvious.
Severe trauma. A high-risk hunter patient. Or an emergency situation too difficult to handle in the operating room.
“What is it? Don’t tell me it’s another new hunter patient?”
But the nurse who had run over shook her head while catching her breath.
“N-no, that’s not it.”
“It’s not?”
“A visitor came saying they wanted to see you, Dr. Na.”
“A visitor?”
Na Hayeong’s brows furrowed. A visitor who specifically asked for a specialist from the Hunter Trauma Center at Daehan Central University Hospital. And during clinic hours, no less. Not many people could meet Na Hayeong immediately just by saying they wanted to see her inside the hospital. It had to be someone important enough to shift her entire schedule.
When she stared silently, the nurse glanced around once before continuing in a low voice.
“Han Sora from the Baekho Guild has arrived.”
“…What did you say?”