The Night the Surveillance Invoice Was Shredded
As the night lights dimmed, the corridor grew even quieter.
But it was merely quiet; no one was actually resting.
The names of Mun Ok-ja and Han Jae-o still remained above the recovery room door. Ever since the missing names had returned to their rightful places, people had become cautious even about how they looked at the electronic display board. They had all witnessed just how easily a name could be sold off.
I sat leaning against the hospital bed.
Mungnoe was strapped to the wall mount. Black bands wrapped around its handle and head, and a weight distribution plate was laid out on the floor beneath it. Though it was a motionless weapon, people passing through the corridor instinctively lowered their voices in its presence.
Two night nurses stood outside the door.
One was dozing off while holding a paper cup, and the other sat with a closed lunchbox lid resting on her knees. The lunchbox had gone cold long ago.
"Go take a break," I said.
The nurse with dark circles under her eyes startled and straightened her back.
"We can't. This is a special surveillance zone."
"Who decided that?"
She couldn't answer.
Just then, a soft thud echoed from the end of the hallway as a folder dropped. A few thin sheets of paper slid across the floor, stopping right in front of the hospital room door. A red stamp was pressed onto the very top page.
Target: Kang Tae-san's Patient Room
Item: Direct Night Surveillance Personnel (2 persons)
※ Rest area usage fees and night meal expenses to be shared by on-site personnel.
※ High-risk patient surveillance cooperation fee scheduled for deduction.
The small print at the bottom was even filthier.
The hand of the nurse holding the paper cup froze. It meant they were forcing these workers to stand guard in front of my room, and then dumping the costs onto them as well.
"Who authorized this?" Lee Na-gyeong's voice cut through the corridor.
A subcontractor manager picked up the documents, forcing a smile. He wore a gray vest, a partner company ID badge, and a small cost-counting terminal strapped to his wrist.
"It's a misunderstanding. Hunter Kang Tae-san is a high-risk patient, so direct surveillance is required. The cost of deploying on-site personnel is, by regulation—"
He cut himself off and glared at the nurses.
"You two, stay at your posts. Your break times will be calculated separately later."
The nurse gripped the lunchbox lid. At that moment, the manager grabbed her wrist.
"You shouldn't waver in front of the patient."
I was the one who moved.
From inside the room, Cha Yu-ri immediately spoke up.
"Tae-san."
"I'm not getting up."
I didn't stand. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I simply reached out my arm. Just before the manager could squeeze the nurse's wrist any tighter, two of my fingers rested on his wrist bone.
I didn't grip hard.
I didn't push, either.
I merely redirected the force he was using to shove the nurse back to her feet right back at him.
Thud.
The manager's knees buckled. He collapsed straight onto the folding surveillance chair he had dragged over. The chair splayed its legs as if it had been waiting for him, but unable to bear the weight, it bent backward.
Click.
The cost counter attached beneath the chair powered on.
⊳ Direct Surveillance Personnel Seating Detected
⊳ Rest Area Usage Fee Charged
⊳ Target of Charge: On-Site Management Supervisor
A brief silence fell over the corridor.
The manager tried to spring back up. However, the bent leg of the chair was snagging the hem of his pants. He flailed awkwardly in a half-seated posture.
"Th-this is a malfunction!"
"You sat on it."
I pulled my hand back.
"Since you made this surveillance post, you get surveilled first."
Someone at the back of the hallway gasped. The two nurses didn't laugh. Instead, for the first time, their shoulders relaxed.
Lee Na-gyeong shined a light on the counter screen. Her terminal was already displaying the room's remote vitals.
⊳ Mungnoe Wall Fixation: STABLE
⊳ Patient Movement Detected: NONE
⊳ Direct Surveillance Requirement: BELOW THRESHOLD
Beside it, the counter spat out a new receipt.
• Attempted Night Rest Fee Transfer Detected
• Meal Deduction Item Created
• Management Commission: 17%
Han Mi-rae walked in from the end of the corridor.
She wasn't smiling as she usually did. But when she saw the receipt from the counter, the corners of her mouth slowly curled upward.
"A management commission?"
The manager's face turned pale.
"It's an automatic charge. For on-site operating costs—"
"Perfect. If it's automatic, it's even easier to deduct."
Han Mi-rae turned on her terminal. This time, she didn't just throw money at the problem. She took a photo of the receipt spat out by the counter and placed it on the same screen as the manager's ID badge.
"I will personally cover the rest fees and meal costs for the two nurses. But this isn't a donation."
She looked at the manager.
"I'm going to deduct triple that amount from your company's invoice. If your cost structure involves standing people in front of a patient and then squeezing them for their own meal money, then your losses should be structural as well."
The manager stumbled again as he tried to extricate himself from the chair. The bent leg refused to let go of his pants.
Passing by, Baek Ha-rin tapped the chair with the tip of her scabbard.
"Take it easy. The chair is a victim here too."
"Ha-rin," Cha Yu-ri called out softly.
"I didn't cut it."
Baek Ha-rin shrugged as if she were being unfairly accused.
Only then did Cha Yu-ri grab my wrist. She checked the inner wrist and opened my palm. She didn't ask for a number. Instead, she looked to see if my fingers were still stiff, as if they were still gripping the manager's wrist.
"You did pay him back properly," she said quietly.
"But I don't like that you used your wrist."
"It was just two fingers."
"Which makes me dislike it twice as much."
One of the nurses finally couldn't hold back a chuckle. It was a tiny laugh, emerging amidst the scent of cold coffee.
The tension at the door eased slightly.
I pointed at the lunchbox lid.
"Eat."
The nurse hesitated.
"But the patient..."
"If I move, that counter over there will probably scream first."
When I looked at the manager, he shut his mouth tight, still unable to free himself from the folded chair.
Lee Na-gyeong gave a brief notification.
"Direct surveillance of Hunter Kang Tae-san's room is hereby switched to remote verification. The Special Surveillance Fee Invoice is void. The attempt to transfer rest fees to on-site personnel will be preserved as audit evidence."
Before any words could tear, the heavy atmosphere broke first.
For the first time, the nurses stepped away from the door. One opened her lunchbox, while the other set down her paper cup and accepted a bowl of warm soup.
Han Mi-rae opened the door to the closed convenience store at the opposite end of the hallway. The payment terminal powered on, and the lights flickered to life one by one.
"Tonight, the store is on me."
Cha Yu-ri looked at her.
"Mi-rae."
"I'm not buying people. I'm just opening a door."
Han Mi-rae paused for a moment before adding,
"And I'll be billing the losses to that side."
The manager hung his head. Next to the folded surveillance chair, the torn pieces of the Special Surveillance Fee Invoice lay scattered. No one had ripped it by hand. As the receipts spat out by the cost counter piled up, the section with the red stamp had simply split in half.
The corridor was still cloaked in night.
But the people standing at the door were no longer guards.
The lids of the cold lunchboxes were opened, and the aroma of warm soup drifted all the way into the patient room.
In the end, the manager couldn't free himself from the chair on his own. He only managed to stand after Baek Ha-rin nudged the folded leg with her scabbard. His face showed no gratitude—only resentment. But he could no longer tell the nurses to stand. A scrap of receipt was stuck to the hem of his pants.
• Rest Interference: 1 count
• Meal Expense Transfer: 1 count
• False Direct Surveillance Requirement: 1 count
The receipt was strangely honest.
Lee Na-gyeong picked it up.
"Machines really can't lie."
"I told you, it's a malfunction."
"Then the malfunction recorded what you did with remarkable accuracy."
The manager shut his mouth.
I watched the nurses sit down inside the convenience store. At first, even while holding their plates, they kept glancing toward the door. Fearing I might move, or that someone else might call for them. So, I deliberately leaned back deeper against the bed's headboard.
"What about the call button?" Cha Yu-ri asked.
I raised my hand to show her.
"I won't press it."
"Press it if you need to. I'm not telling you to hold it in."
"Then I'll only hold it in while they're eating."
Cha Yu-ri was silent for a moment.
"I suppose that's acceptable. But tell me immediately if you're in pain."
I nodded.
Just then, the nurse holding the paper cup stopped at the store entrance.
"Hunter Kang Tae-san."
"Yes?"
"Can I take back what I said about you being scary?"
The corridor fell quiet for a brief moment.
The nurse still had dark circles under her eyes, but this time she was smiling.
"I mean, you are still scary, but... that was really satisfying just now."
Cha Yu-ri looked at me, trying to keep a straight face.
"Don't listen to her. If a patient gets praised, they'll just overexert themselves again."
"I already heard it."
"Then only remember half of it."
"The satisfying part?"
"The scary part."
Han Mi-rae poked her head out from the store counter.
"I vote for the satisfying part. It makes processing the expenses much cleaner."
Cha Yu-ri sighed.
Even so, the air in the corridor was different now. The Special Surveillance Fee Invoice was shredded, and people sat in chairs of their own accord. The night that had been erected under the guise of surveillance had, for the first time, become a night of rest.
Beside the bed, Mungnoe remained bound. Yet, with the manager's folded chair and the shredded invoice lying before it, it felt as though someone had taken a heavy blow without the hammer even being swung.
Lee Na-gyeong slipped the torn pieces of the invoice into a transparent folder.
"We will not discard this invoice."
The manager's face began to brighten.
"Then, a normal review—"
"We are preserving it as evidence."
Her words were brief. The manager's expression collapsed once more.
Han Mi-rae taped a small piece of paper next to the store counter.
Free Meals for Night Shift Workers
※ Bill to: The person who created the Special Surveillance Fee
Baek Ha-rin looked at it and laughed.
"I like this."
"Your tastes are surprisingly cheap, Ha-rin."
"Well, you handle the expensive stuff anyway."
Han Mi-rae was about to retort but stopped, looking at the nurses by the door.
They were eating slowly. They didn't rush. They didn't freeze with their spoons mid-air out of fear that someone might call for them. Strangely, that felt like the biggest change of all.
Cha Yu-ri lowered my bed rail.
"Lie down. Don't think about dealing with anyone else today."
"Did that hit him hard enough?"
"Medically, it was a strain. Personally, it must have been satisfying."
"Personally?"
"Just lie down."
Her speech quickened slightly. Han Mi-rae looked like she was holding back a laugh, while Baek Ha-rin pointedly turned her head away.
I lay down.
The blue light from the ceiling felt lower than before. From outside the room, the sound of spoons clinking against bowls drifted in. It was the sound of people, once forced to stand under the name of special surveillance, finally sitting down to eat.
That sound felt like a much more definitive conclusion than the shredded invoice.