Night had fallen over Seoul Baek-eun Hospital, the fluorescent lights of the emergency room casting long shadows across the now-quieter space. The chaos of the day had gradually subsided as patients were either discharged or admitted to various wards. The frantic pace had slowed to the more measured rhythm of a hospital at night—still busy, but no longer in crisis mode.
Yoon Mu-shin sat alone on an empty bench in the corner of the ER, his shoulders slumped with exhaustion. His scrubs were stained with dried blood and antiseptic solution, badges of the day's labor. His first day as an intern had been nothing like he'd expected—thrown immediately into a mass casualty event, treating patient after patient without pause. Even with his military background and the system's enhanced skills, the mental and physical toll was immense.
He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, allowing himself a moment of vulnerability now that the immediate crisis had passed. The faces of the patients he'd treated flashed through his mind—Mr. Kim with his head wound, Ms. Park and her lacerated arm, Mr. Lee fighting for his life with multiple injuries. There had been dozens more after them, each with their own story, their own pain.
A cool sensation against his forehead startled him from his thoughts. His eyes snapped open to find Bae Yu-mi standing before him, gently dabbing his forehead with a clean white handkerchief. The simple gesture of kindness caught him off guard.
"You're sweating," she said softly, a gentle smile playing at the corners of her lips. Her own exhaustion was evident in the slight droop of her eyelids, but there was a warmth in her expression that transcended fatigue.
Mu-shin returned her smile with a small one of his own. "Thank you," he said, the words encompassing more than just the handkerchief—a gratitude for her steady assistance throughout the chaotic day.
Yu-mi reached into her pocket and produced a can of energy drink, offering it to him with both hands in a gesture of respect. "You should replenish your energy," she said. "You've been working non-stop since you arrived."
He accepted the drink with a nod of thanks, the cold metal of the can a welcome sensation against his palm. The tab made a satisfying hiss as he opened it, and he took a long sip, the sweet, tangy liquid cooling his parched throat.
From his position on the bench, Mu-shin had a clear view of the ER. Many of the patients he'd treated were still there, some sleeping, others talking quietly with family members who had arrived. Medical staff moved between beds, checking vitals and administering medications. It was a tableau of healing in progress—wounds bandaged, pain managed, lives stabilized.
"They're all doing well, you know," Yu-mi said, following his gaze. She sat down beside him, maintaining a respectful distance. "The patients you treated. Even Mr. Lee, who we thought might not make it—he's stable now, in the ICU."
Mu-shin nodded, a sense of quiet satisfaction washing over him. In his previous life as a soldier, success had often meant destruction—enemies defeated, targets eliminated. Now, success meant the opposite—lives preserved, bodies mended, suffering eased. The contrast was profound.
"Your skills are... remarkable," Yu-mi continued, her voice tinged with admiration. "I've assisted many doctors, but I've never seen anyone work the way you do. Especially not an intern on their first day."
"I had a good assistant," Mu-shin replied, glancing at her. "Your help was invaluable."
A faint blush colored Yu-mi's cheeks at the compliment. "I should be thanking you," she said. "When you asked me to assist you, I was just a nurse-in-training being pulled in ten different directions. Working with you today... it felt like I was really making a difference. Like I was actually helping people, not just fetching supplies and filling out forms."
Mu-shin considered her words. In the military, he'd learned the value of a reliable partner in high-stress situations. Today, despite her initial nervousness, Yu-mi had proven herself to be exactly that—adapting quickly to his requests, anticipating his needs, maintaining her composure even when faced with severe trauma.
"I apologize for my selfishness earlier," he said. "Grabbing you like that, demanding your assistance without even introducing myself properly. It was presumptuous."
Yu-mi shook her head, her expression earnest. "No, don't apologize. I'm glad you did. I learned more today working with you than I have in weeks of training." She paused, then asked with a hint of hesitation, "Are you joining the ER Department?"
Mu-shin raised an eyebrow. "Why do you ask?"
"Well, you got so involved with the ER's affairs today," she explained. "I just wondered if that was your plan all along."
"Is there a problem with that?" he asked, noting the serious shift in her tone.
Yu-mi glanced around, then leaned closer, her voice dropping to just above a whisper. "You should know that this hospital isn't just one big happy family. It's divided into departments, and there's... politics." She emphasized the last word with a grimace. "The ER Department and Surgery Department are the most prestigious, but they're also bitter rivals."
Mu-shin's military instincts perked up at this information. Understanding the power dynamics of any organization was crucial for survival and advancement.
"How bitter?" he asked.
"Very," Yu-mi replied with conviction. "If you help the ER Department, you get blacklisted by Surgery, and vice versa. It's been that way for years. The department heads barely speak to each other except in meetings, and even then, it's all thinly veiled hostility."
She gestured around the emergency room. "By helping out here today, you've already made a statement. The Surgery Department won't look kindly on it."
Mu-shin inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly through his nose. Hospital politics hadn't been covered in his medical training, nor was it something the Doctor System had prepared him for. Yet it seemed he'd already inadvertently positioned himself in this internal conflict.
"I didn't realize I was making enemies by treating patients," he said, a hint of irony in his voice.
"That's how it works here," Yu-mi said with a shrug that suggested both resignation and apology. "It's not fair, but it's reality."
Before Mu-shin could respond, the double doors to the ER swung open, and a tall figure in blood-stained surgical scrubs entered. The man's presence immediately commanded attention—his posture straight, his movements purposeful. Despite the evidence of a long surgery on his clothing, his face showed no signs of fatigue, only sharp alertness as his eyes scanned the room.
"That's Dr. Lee Sang-wook," Yu-mi whispered. "The Trauma Specialist. He's been in surgery with the critical cases from the accident."
Dr. Lee's expression registered surprise as he took in the now-orderly ER, patients treated and resting comfortably. His gaze found Nam Kyung-soo, who was updating charts at the nurses' station. The Chief Resident looked up, and Dr. Lee approached him with long strides.
Though they were too far away to hear the conversation, Mu-shin observed the interaction with interest. Dr. Lee appeared to be asking questions, gesturing to the patients. Nam Kyung-soo responded with what looked like explanations, occasionally pointing in Mu-shin's direction. As the conversation progressed, Dr. Lee's expression shifted from curiosity to something that might have been respect, his eyebrows rising as he glanced toward Mu-shin.
After a few more exchanges, both men began walking toward the bench where Mu-shin and Yu-mi sat. Mu-shin straightened his posture instinctively, the habits of military discipline asserting themselves in the presence of a superior officer—or in this case, a senior doctor.
"Dr. Yoon," Nam Kyung-soo called as they approached. "There's someone who wants to meet you."
Mu-shin stood, extending his hand as the two men reached him. "Dr. Lee, it's an honor. I'm Yoon Mu-shin."
Dr. Lee Sang-wook was even more imposing up close—tall and broad-shouldered, with intelligent eyes that seemed to be assessing Mu-shin's capabilities with a single glance. He took Mu-shin's hand in a firm grip.
"So you're the intern who's been playing hero in my ER," he said, his deep voice carrying a hint of amusement rather than censure. "Nam here tells me you treated over twenty patients today, including some complex trauma cases."
"I did what was needed," Mu-shin replied simply. "There were patients requiring care, and I have the training to provide it."
Dr. Lee's eyes narrowed slightly, as if trying to reconcile the modest statement with the impressive results he'd seen. "Training is one thing. What you demonstrated today goes beyond that. It shows instinct, judgment." He paused, then added, "Qualities that can't be taught in medical school."
Mu-shin remained silent, accepting the assessment without comment. In his previous life, he'd learned that sometimes the best response was no response at all.
Dr. Lee seemed to appreciate the lack of false modesty. He nodded once, then said with unexpected directness, "Watch out for the Surgery Department. They won't take kindly to a talented new intern aligning with Emergency Medicine."
A booming laugh followed this warning, startling Yu-mi beside him. "Not that I'm trying to scare you off," Dr. Lee added. "Just giving you fair warning. Hospital politics can be more dangerous than the battlefield sometimes."
With that cryptic statement, Dr. Lee turned to leave, but not before giving Nam Kyung-soo a meaningful look. "Keep this one close, Nam. He's got potential."
As Dr. Lee's tall figure disappeared through the ER doors, Nam Kyung-soo turned to Mu-shin with an expression that was part apologetic, part calculating.
"Dr. Lee is right," he said. "By helping us today, you've already made a statement in the hospital's internal politics. The Surgery Department won't forget it." He hesitated, then continued, "You might as well make it official and join the ER Department. At least then you'll have our protection when they start making your life difficult."
"And they will make your life difficult," Yu-mi added softly. "They're not known for their forgiveness."
Mu-shin considered his options. He hadn't come to this hospital looking for conflict or to take sides in a departmental feud. His goal was simply to be a good doctor, to use his skills—both those he'd earned through study and those granted by the system—to help patients.
But it seemed neutrality wasn't an option. He'd already been labeled, categorized, assigned to a faction simply by doing his job in a crisis.
"If I join the ER Department," he asked Nam Kyung-soo, "what exactly does that mean for my rotation schedule? I'm still an intern—aren't I supposed to rotate through all departments?"
Nam nodded. "You'll still do your rotations, but your home base will be Emergency Medicine. You'll spend more time here than in other departments, and when scheduling conflicts arise—as they inevitably do—your priority will be to the ER."
Mu-shin fell into deep contemplation, weighing the advantages and disadvantages. Aligning with the ER would give him protection and mentorship from doctors like Dr. Lee, but it would also make enemies in Surgery—a department that could be valuable for his development as a physician.
He glanced at Yu-mi, who was watching him with hopeful eyes. "We could work together again," she said, the simple statement carrying more weight than its words alone suggested.
There was something appealing about that prospect—having an assistant he'd already established a rhythm with, someone who'd proven herself capable under pressure. And beyond the practical benefits, he found himself drawn to her earnest dedication, her quiet competence that had complemented his own skills throughout the day.
"Alright," Mu-shin said finally. "I'll join the ER Department."
The relief on Nam Kyung-soo's face was immediate and obvious. "Excellent decision," he said, clapping Mu-shin on the shoulder. "You'll need to fill out some paperwork to make it official. Yu-mi, would you mind taking our new colleague to get that sorted?"
"Of course," she replied, her smile brightening her tired features. "I'd be happy to."
As Nam Kyung-soo walked away to continue his duties, Yu-mi led Mu-shin through the hospital corridors toward the administrative offices. The hallways were quieter now, the night shift having settled into its routine. Occasional announcements echoed over the PA system, calling doctors to various locations or requesting services from different departments.
"Thank you," Yu-mi said as they walked.
"For what?" Mu-shin asked.
"For joining us," she replied. "The ER needs doctors like you—people who can stay calm in a crisis, who know what to do without hesitation." She paused, then added more softly, "And selfishly, I'm glad we'll be working together again."
The administrative process was straightforward—forms to sign, boxes to check, initials to provide. As Mu-shin completed the paperwork that would officially align him with the Emergency Department, he couldn't help but reflect on how quickly his path had been set. Just this morning, he'd been a new intern with no particular specialty in mind. Now, he'd not only chosen a department but also apparently entered into a hospital-wide political conflict.
Once the paperwork was complete, Mu-shin handed the forms to the night administrator, who promised they would be processed first thing in the morning.
"What now?" Yu-mi asked as they exited the administrative office. "Are you heading to the dormitory? You must be exhausted."
Mu-shin shook his head. "I want to check on the patients in the General Ward first—the ones we treated earlier who were admitted."
Yu-mi's expression softened with something that might have been admiration. "Even after everything today, you're still thinking of the patients."
"That's the job, isn't it?" Mu-shin replied simply.
They reached a junction in the corridor where their paths would diverge—Yu-mi to the nurses' station to complete her shift, Mu-shin to the General Ward to check on his patients.
"Well, good night then, Dr. Yoon," Yu-mi said, a hint of formality returning to her voice now that their shared ordeal was truly over. "I'll see you tomorrow?"
Mu-shin nodded. "Tomorrow," he confirmed. "And Yu-mi... thank you for your help today."
She smiled, a genuine expression that reached her eyes despite the exhaustion evident in them. "It was my pleasure, Doctor."
As Mu-shin turned and walked toward the General Ward, he could feel Yu-mi's gaze following him. He didn't look back, but he was acutely aware of her presence, lingering at the junction until he turned the corner and disappeared from view.
Unknown to him, as Bae Yu-mi watched his retreating figure, something stirred in her heart—a feeling she couldn't quite name, born from a day of shared purpose and mutual respect. It was a small seed, barely noticeable now, but with the potential to grow into something more significant with time and nurturing.
For now, though, it was simply a warm sensation in her chest as she watched the silhouette of the mysterious new doctor fade into the dimly lit corridor of Seoul Baek-eun Hospital.