I’ll Do Anything
“I’ll do anything.”
Bang!
“Kyaaaah!”
With a deafening blast, shards flew everywhere, and screams and shouts burst out all at once.
“Back! Everyone, get back now!”
The audience erupted in one collective stir.
Some people ducked in terror, while others froze in place, unable to react.
The panicked staff moved with frantic precision.
As if war had broken out.
“Cut the lights! Cut them all now!!!”
The event organizers, too, had gone pale with shock at the sudden large-scale accident.
The members who had been performing live were ashen-faced with alarm.
In particular, Im Seo-rin screamed when she saw Song Tan covered in blood.
“Here! Someone’s injured here! Call an ambulance, hurry!!”
Song Bong-gu and his wife, Im Gwan-hun, came running over in shock.
“Tan!!!”
Hearing his father’s trembling voice, Song Tan forced a smile.
“I’m fine, Father.”
“Good grief, you brat! Do you even know what state you’re in right now!? What do you mean, fine!?”
Shards were still embedded in his back, shoulders, and upper arms, and blood was spreading quickly from the torn flesh.
“I’m really all right. None of the injuries are in dangerous spots.”
“O-oppa, you’re really okay, right?”
Looking at Im Seo-rin, whose lips were trembling hard, Song Tan nodded.
“Have you ever seen me lie?”
“Hic, no. Oppa only ever says the right thing.”
“Good. You know me well.”
“So then... how long are you going to keep holding Yura?”
“Huh?”
Only then did Song Tan notice Go Yura and loosen his arm.
“Ah, sorry.”
“No. Th-thank you. Because of me, this whole thing—”
Go Yura dropped her head and muttered under her breath, her voice so quiet it was nearly swallowed by the noise.
A moment later, with sirens wailing, the 119 paramedics rushed onto the scene.
“Then I’ll go get treated. Everyone must have been badly shaken, so please try to calm yourselves.”
Having left that one flat remark behind, Song Tan climbed into the ambulance on his own two feet.
The Iris members stared after him, dazed.
“I... I think I get why Seo-rin unni depends on that oppa...”
“Me too...”
Loren and Kami murmured almost at the same time, while Yura still looked utterly stunned, her gaze fixed helplessly on Song Tan’s retreating back.
***
After arriving at the hospital by ambulance, Song Tan had to undergo a series of tests.
They checked X-rays first to see whether any fragments remained inside his body, whether any had worked their way between the muscles or nerves, and then they began removing the pieces of glass, plastic, and metal embedded in his flesh one by one.
For the deeper wounds, they used local anesthesia, while the fragments lodged just beneath the outer layer of skin were pulled out with tweezers.
“This one’s in an awkward spot. Should we numb it first before taking it out?”
“No. Just do it.”
“It’ll hurt quite a bit.”
“That’s fine.”
The doctor, glancing at him from behind a mask, said nothing further and continued removing the fragments.
“Hoo.”
After removing every last shard and finishing the sutures, the doctor let out a faint breath.
“You’ve got remarkable endurance. That must have hurt a lot.”
“It does hurt.”
“Heh. You didn’t even blink once, and you expect me to believe that?”
Taking off his mask, the doctor showed him the X-ray images and continued.
“The placement of the fragments was unbelievably close. If they’d been just two centimeters deeper, you might’ve been in serious danger from blood loss. Fortunately, most of the major blood vessels and nerves were missed, and the depth was shallower than expected. If you take care of the wounds properly, you should recover without any major aftereffects.”
“Thank you for taking such good care of me.”
“Ah, and your scapula has an undisplaced fracture, to put it simply, there’s a crack. If you wear a shoulder brace, the bone will knit quickly, so don’t worry too much.”
Fortunately, the effect of pouring all his internal energy into the injury had paid off.
“Yes, I understand.”
“Oh, and you’ll need to be hospitalized.”
For the first time, Song Tan flinched.
“Do I really have to?”
“Yes. You really, really do. You’ve got multiple foreign-body wounds with a high risk of infection, so we need to monitor your condition. The wounds are on your back and shoulder, which move a lot, so there’s also a chance the sutures could reopen. Let’s stay for a few days, shall we? It’s best to listen to the doctor.”
“Ah, yes...”
In his days as a Murim practitioner, injuries like this would have been solved with a few applications of Gold Wound Medicine, but he couldn’t afford to be stubborn in this era.
After that, Song Tan was assigned to a luxurious private room.
Iris’s agency had arranged it.
“Oh, you poor boy...”
Song Bong-gu looked at Song Tan, who was sitting on the bed with a shoulder brace on, with a pained expression.
Approaching him, Song Bong-gu gently took his son’s hand.
Because of his small frame, even standing beside the bed, his gaze reached only slightly above it.
“Does it hurt a lot?”
His tone was deliberately calm, but the concern beneath it could not be hidden.
“It really doesn’t hurt that much. It’s only a few stitches... I’m sorry for making you worry.”
Looking down at his son, Song Bong-gu shook his head.
“It’s fine. You were trying to save someone’s life, weren’t you? You did well. You really did well.”
After glancing uselessly toward the window once, Song Bong-gu looked back at Song Tan.
“But listen. I’m proud of you for being that kind of man, and at the same time, it breaks my heart to pieces.”
“I’m sorry...”
“Enough! You brat. Do you think I don’t know that no matter how much I nag you, you’d still act the same way again?”
Song Tan scratched his head, looking awkward.
“Still... I hope you don’t get hurt. A healthy son is better than a heroic one, as far as I’m concerned. You know what I mean, right?”
“I’ll do that.”
“You’re not even good at answering, and yet I still can’t dislike you.”
Song Bong-gu gave him a sidelong look, and Song Tan smiled faintly.
“And what about work? Didn’t they say you’d have to stay in the hospital for a week?”
“I told the station chief. I still had some reward leave left anyway, so he told me to rest as long as I need and come back when I’m better.”
“You really are lucky when it comes to people. It’s not easy finding a superior with a good heart.”
“Guess so. Maybe I take after you in that regard.”
“Look at you, becoming a cop and suddenly getting smart with your mouth.”
Still, Song Bong-gu didn’t seem to hate his son’s teasing. His mouth kept twitching upward.
From that point on, the visits were relentless.
Im Seo-rin came with Director Im Gwan-hun and his wife.
“Waaahhh. Oppaaaa! I’m sorry I invited you to the fan meeting for no reason... Sob, what am I supposed to do...”
She wailed so loudly it seemed the room itself might collapse.
“Uh... Seo-rin? Anyone watching would think there’s a funeral in here. Please, tone it down a little.”
After barely managing to stop crying under Na Hye-ran’s intervention, Im Seo-rin turned around as if nothing had happened.
“Hehe, and then Kami accidentally farted without even realizing it. Her face turned bright red and the best she could say was...”
She gleefully spilled the members’ embarrassing stories before leaving, saying she’d come by again soon.
After that, his station colleagues, including his direct superior Yoo Gyeong-ho, came to visit, and somehow even his academy classmates from Junggyeong heard the news and showed up.
In those days, not a single moment passed in peace, and Song Tan found himself thinking that this life wasn’t turning out all that badly after all.
***
Once the sun had fully set and the hospital room finally quieted down, Song Tan slowly closed his eyes.
Beep-beep-beep—
He pushed the machine sounds, the footsteps, everything, out of his awareness.
He focused on nothing but his breathing.
In and out.
The moment his breath reached his dantian, he could vaguely feel the flow within his body.
The circulation of blood and energy had become muddied, but it had not been severed.
The problem was his shoulder.
The point where the hand yangming and hand lesser yang triple burner meridians crossed.
There, his internal force could not pass smoothly and was creating tiny eddies.
Here?
Some of the blood and energy around the cracked bone had twisted out of alignment, and one of the tendons had grown excessively rigid.
Song Tan lowered his breathing even further.
Without forcing his internal force through, he let it flow with careful restraint, as if merely opening a path.
One of the few functions of the Tae-jeong Mind Method was that it significantly increased the body’s recovery power.
A little gift from internal energy of the purest order, perhaps.
After a long session of circulation, Song Tan slowly opened his eyes.
Maybe about two weeks.
That was in stark contrast to the doctor’s prediction that it would take at least one or two months for the bone to heal.
At that moment, he sensed multiple presences beyond the door.
Knock, knock, knock—
“Excuse me, sir?”
Along with the knock came a deep, heavy voice.
“You may come in.”
The door opened, and a middle-aged man and woman Song Tan had never seen before stepped into the room.
Behind them stood Go Yura, looking slightly awkward.
In their hands were a large fruit basket and a stack of drink boxes.
“Sorry to disturb your rest. We’re Yura’s father and mother.”
“Ah, I see.”
Before Song Tan could say anything else, the couple bowed deeply at the same time.
“Our Yura... thank you so much for saving her.”
When the woman lifted her head, the corners of her eyes were already red.
“We were so shocked... I lost all strength in my legs... We only just managed to come and see you now. We’re truly sorry.”
Song Tan indicated the chair beside the bed.
“Shall we sit and talk?”
The three of them nodded and took their seats side by side.
“I watched the video of the accident several times.”
Go Yura’s biological father spoke up abruptly.
“If it hadn’t been for you, our daughter would truly have... suffered a terrible fate.”
The man, unable to bring himself to speak of his child’s death, made his lips tremble.
“She was a child we struggled to have after years of infertility. She’s the kind of daughter you wouldn’t mind having in your eyes.”
“Dad...”
Even Go Yura, for once, could not hold back; her eyes turned red.
“You saved our lives, sir. I don’t even know how we’re supposed to repay this debt... At this moment, I can’t even begin to imagine it.”
“I didn’t do it expecting anything in return.”
“I know that very well. You couldn’t have thrown yourself into that situation without thinking. That’s why we’re even more grateful, and even more at a loss.”
“Thank you... sob, thank you. Truly.”
Moved by their raw sincerity, Song Tan couldn’t keep up the pretense of modesty any longer.
Then Go Yura’s mother took a white envelope from her bag.
It looked quite thick.
“I know this may be rude, but I hope you’ll accept it. It’s just a small token of our feelings...”
“No. I’ll only accept your sincerity.”
The woman looked heartbroken, but Song Tan’s expression remained firm.
“As a police officer, protecting civilians is only natural. Even if it hadn’t been Go Yura, I would have rushed in without hesitation. That’s the truth.”
A brief silence fell.
The restless couple bowed their heads at the same time.
“I’m sorry.”
“We were careless.”
“I understand your feelings very well. But honestly, your sincerity is enough for me.”
Song Tan looked them straight in the face as he spoke.
Moved by that sincerity, the couple’s eyes grew moist again.
They looked like people who desperately wanted to do something for him, but had nothing they could truly offer.
Then, suddenly, Go Yura’s father took a business card from his wallet.
Goh Seong-mo, Chief Prosecutor, Financial and Corporate Crime Division, Seoul Central District Prosecutors’ Office
“If you ever need help, contact me anytime. If it’s something I can do, I’ll do anything. And once again... thank you, from the bottom of my heart.”
After bowing politely, the couple quietly left the room, and Go Yura, left alone behind them, chewed on her lip in frustration.
“Do you have something you want to say?”
“I’ll come by separately tomorrow.”
“Pardon?”
“Take care of yourself. And... thank you. For saving me...”
Having rattled the words out as if rapping them, Go Yura hurried out of the room with awkward, stiff little steps.
“......What was that?”
Completely baffled, Song Tan scratched his chin once and then closed his eyes, resuming his circulation.
He figured the girl had been badly shaken.
And then the next day, and the day after that, too.
Go Yura came to his hospital room without missing a single day.
Even if she only stayed long enough to show her face for a moment, she remained consistent.
She didn’t really say much either.
“How’s your condition?”
That was all she asked before silently keeping him company.
It reached a point where Song Tan, unable to take it anymore, spoke first.
“You don’t need to come every day.”
“It’s my choice. Don’t feel pressured.”
“I’m pretty pressured, actually.”
“Endure it. I’ll try to make an effort too.”
“...?”
After that, Go Yura began opening up about herself.
As if she were making a confession.
“When I was little, I had leukemia. The hair loss was more painful than the chemo itself. That’s why I never, ever wear my hair short now.”
“Long hair suits you better, anyway.”
At some point, the awkwardness began to disappear.
And with it came a strange sense of relief for Go Yura—an unfamiliar experience, laying bare the thoughts she had never told anyone, without holding anything back.
“I think I get it now.”
“Get what?”
“Why Seo-rin does that with oppa. It’s weird, but somehow... being next to you makes me feel at ease?”
After blurting it out, Go Yura’s face turned bright red and she sprang to her feet.
“I should get going.”
“Take care.”
“And don’t ever tell Seo-rin I came here. It has to stay a secret.”
“Why?”
“Can’t you just not ask?”
“Fair enough.”
“Then... get well and be discharged tomorrow. I saved my number in your phone, so if I call, make sure you pick up.”
“...?”
Leaving Song Tan standing there, dumbfounded, Go Yura pulled her mask and hood up and practically ran out of the room.
“She got me.”
She’d asked to borrow his phone because her battery was dead, and he hadn’t realized she’d secretly saved her number into it.
Still, since the thought itself was so earnest—looking after the one who saved her life—Song Tan didn’t think much of it.
And so time flowed by like water, and before long, a month had passed in a flash.
Having safely completed the long, drawn-out probationary period, Song Tan held his special promotion appointment ceremony, where he was simultaneously confirmed as a regular officer and promoted.
He received everyone’s envy all at once.
And then came the long-awaited first day of work at Annam Station’s violent crimes team.
“Hey, rookie. You do know you can keep down your lunch even if you see a body hacked into pieces and rotting to hell, right? If you’re just here to test the waters, quit now. Don’t make life harder for everybody else for no reason.”
That was the very first thing his direct superior said to him the moment they met.