Chapter 16
The patient’s gaze on Daeho’s hand wasn’t sharp or cold—it was rather expectant.
“Th-then, it’s confirmed that I’ll be admitted for the fifth time, right?”
“Of course. Look here—I’ve made sure to fill it in properly.”
Swipe.
Without hesitation, Daeho showed the patient his tablet screen.
The patient checked it with his own eyes and then made a sulky face.
“Tch. Still, it’s nice to hear it explained clearly like this.”
“How about you get some rest now?”
“Well, what else can I do? I can’t just stay awake staring at the ceiling. Might as well sleep.”
“I’ll tell the staff not to disturb you, so sleep well. Oh, and it’s bright in here, so make sure you wear the sleep mask.”
Daeho winked playfully as he spoke.
The patient gave a faint smile and snorted.
“Never thought I’d see a doctor telling a patient to wear a sleep mask in the emergency room. Fine, I’ll do it.”
“Then have a nice nap.”
“Who could ever sleep comfortably here? It’s more like forced sleep.”
The patient grumbled bitterly.
But Daeho just smiled and replied as if he were complaining too.
“We sleep here every day.”
“Doctors have it rough too, huh.”
“Exactly.”
“Haha, you really say anything to patients, don’t you, Doctor?”
The patient chuckled, his expression softening into understanding instead of irritation.
That was exactly what Daeho wanted.
‘If you explain things well, no one is unreasonable.’
The emergency room wasn’t only filled with pain and suffering.
Depending on someone’s attitude and actions, the atmosphere could completely change.
That was the kind of ER Daeho dreamed of building.
After that, he moved from one bed to another, checking on patients.
“How are you feeling now?”
“You finally came. I told you it still hurts—ahh!”
“Here?”
“Aaagh, right there! You’re killing me!”
“You’re not dying, don’t worry. I’ll give you another painkiller since I hurt you.”
He joked lightly as he spoke with the patient.
Wherever Daeho went, the tension and complaints from patients seemed to ease as if they’d never been upset at all.
There was a clear difference.
The moaning in the emergency ward grew quieter.
The number of patient complaints dropped noticeably.
But the medical staff didn’t even have the time to realize it.
Clatter!
“Get that CBC test, quick!”
“Is the CT room open? Then hurry, move the patient now!”
“Surgical call to CS! How long ago did we call? Why aren’t they here yet?”
Everyone was busy running around, making calls, too focused on immediate patients to notice the bigger picture.
Evening came. It was almost time to get off work.
Daeho sat in the nurse station, glaring intently at the clock.
‘Off work… off work…’
His eyes practically burned with the desire to go home.
Then Chief Yoo Gwanggoo appeared before him.
Unlike when he was around other residents, his face softened noticeably—as if mindful of the nurses watching.
“Richard, how was today? Kind of boring, right?”
Every word was dripping with fake sweetness.
The nurses, unaware of his two-faced nature, looked at him fondly.
“See? Only the Chief cares enough to check on people.”
“He’s always managing both the specialists and residents. He must be exhausted.”
“Looks like he came here as soon as he had a moment free.”
He had a great reputation among the nurses.
Daeho immediately caught on to the atmosphere.
‘A mask, huh? I can wear one too.’
He smiled smoothly and responded politely.
“No, not boring at all. It’s my first day, so I spent time learning the system and observing. The day went by fast.”
“That’s good to hear. I’m sorry, though—there were so many emergency patients today.”
“Why would you be sorry, Chief? Anyway, what’s up?”
“Oh, the duty roster’s been updated. I came to tell you.”
He handed Daeho a piece of paper.
Daeho accepted it calmly and even added a friendly remark.
“You didn’t have to bring it yourself, you could’ve just called.”
“How could I do that? But… I do feel bad. Your schedule’s, uh…”
“Hm. Looks like I’m stuck on night shifts for quite a while.”
It was clearly intentional.
‘Trying to screw me over, huh?’
His intention was obvious, but Daeho didn’t even frown. He smiled brightly instead.
Was he going to just take it? Give in quietly?
No way.
He had a reason—one that made him accept it without a fuss.
‘My jet lag is killing me anyway.’
His head was spinning, his biorhythm totally off.
In that case, working night shifts would actually help him adjust faster.
Seeing Daeho so calm, Gwanggoo faltered.
“Y-you’re okay with that?”
“A new guy should put in some effort, don’t you think?”
“W-what?”
Gwanggoo’s eyes twitched in disbelief.
Then, the nurses nearby started whispering.
“Wow, Dr. Richard is so cool.”
“He’s been so proactive all day, helping everyone.”
“Even the patients kept asking for him!”
“As expected of someone from Johns Hopkins.”
Their words were full of admiration.
Only then did Gwanggoo realize his mistake.
‘Damn it. I tried to isolate him, but he’s actually enjoying it.’
But it was too late.
Every time he tried to push Daeho, things turned in the newcomer’s favor.
It drove him crazy.
“Ugh…”
“I know you’re trying to help me adjust to the time difference, Chief. You’re so considerate—thanks.”
“Ha… well, if you say so.”
“Heh.”
With the nurses watching, Daeho gave him a deep, confident smile.
Gwanggoo couldn’t lose his friendly image, so he could only grind his teeth.
‘That sly little fox…’
No matter how much he cursed inwardly, Daeho stood there unbothered and calm.
But he wasn’t done yet.
“By the way, Chief?”
“What now?”
“Night shifts come with extra pay, right?”
“…What?”
Gwanggoo froze. Daeho struck again.
“Oh wait, you probably can’t authorize that, huh?”
“…”
Before he could respond, Daeho continued smoothly.
