"It was a joke, by the way, Director," she said, her voice dripping with a facetious lightness that refused to acknowledge the gravity of the room making it nauseating for everyone else.
"You don't have to fire anyone. I was just amusing myself. You know... to lighten the mood."
The room went deadly silent. Everyone let out a shaky breath, sending curses her way under their breath. The Chief looked like he was going to vomit; the relief was worse than the firing.
Se-na began to peel off her gloves, her expression utterly vacant.
"After all," she continued, her voice dripping with poisonous sarcasm, "Chief Han has done such a good job taking care of this department. We cannot afford to lose such a... qualified mentor, who guided such a competent panel under him." Here she looked at Dr. Choi and his team, who were embarrassingly completing the procedure.
She tossed her bloody gloves toward the bin, but they missed, landing on the floor near Choi's feet. She didn't bother to pick.
"You can handle the rest, I presume..." Se-na said, and then without waiting for Choi to respond she began to move toward the exit. Halfway there, she stopped and looked back over her shoulder, her eyes narrowing at the open chest.
"Stitch her up nicely," she added casually. "Try not to mess up the skin. She's rich, and she has a public image; she'll sue the hospital if the scar is ugly." And then she turned and walked out of the OR, her gait leisurely, as if she were leaving a spa.
Here Choi stood frozen, the weight of a potential multi-million-won lawsuit now resting entirely on his exhausted hands.
In the hallway, the girl's family was waiting like a pack of wounded animals. As soon as the doors hissed open, the mother, dressed in an expensive white maxi skirt rushed forward. She was sobbing, her hands reaching out to grab Se-na's arm in a desperate plea for news.
Se-na recoiled with a look of genuine, visceral disgust. She stepped back with the grace of a cat avoiding a puddle, pulling her sleeve away as if the woman's touch was a contagious disease.
"Is she okay? Is my daughter okay?" the mother wailed.
Se-na looked her up and down, who looked anything but in despair for her dying daughter. "The repair is holding," she said, her voice flat and clinical. "Tell the billing department to send the invoice to your insurance. I expect no delays in my surgical fee."
The mother blinked, her sobbing hitching in her throat. "But... she's... is she going to wake up?"
Se-na didn't answer immediately. Instead, she stepped closer, leaning into the mother's personal space staring directly into her eyes and whispered, "It almost looks like you don't want her to wake up, Omoni."
"WHAT?!" the woman cried, stumbling back, her face turning from swollen red to a ghostly white.
"That's for her brain to decide. I've done my part," Se-na replied in her casual voice, moving back and brushing an invisible speck of dust from her shoulder. She adjusted her collar, her gaze turning sharp and dismissive. "And please, don't touch my coat again. It's custom silk. Your hysterics are already taxing enough; I don't need a dry-cleaning bill added to my surgical fee. Tell the billing department to send the invoice to you."
She walked away without a backward glance, the sound of the mother's confused, and dramatic sobs fading into the distance.
As Se-na reached her office, she collapsed onto the leather couch, her eyes burning with exhaustion. But before she could even close them, a heavy, rhythmic thumping rattled the door. It wasn't the hesitant tap of a nurse; it was someone else.
"Come in," she groaned, her voice thick with irritation.
The door swung open, and Dr. Joo stormed in, his face a mask of righteous fury.
"Dr. Maeng Se-na! I just heard what you did in OR 4," he barked, standing over her like a judge.
"No need to thank me," Se-na muttered, not even opening her eyes. She lay back, draping her arm over her face to block out the light. "I'd like to take my rest in peace now, if you please..."
"Thank you? You think I'm here to thank you?" Joo's voice rose an octave. "I heard how you treated the staff! I heard how you spoke to the family outside! It's a disgrace to the white coat!"
Silence stretched for a few seconds. Then, slowly, Se-na shifted. she pushed her hair back and sat up, resting her chin on her hand as she looked at him with a terrifyingly calm expression.
"The least I expected was for you to thank me for saving your friend Choi's career," she said softly. "And yet, you're here accusing me of... what? I think you desperately need to straighten your priorities, Gyosu-nim. You need to decide which side you're on."
Dr. Joo turned a deeper shade of red. As the Head of the Ethics Committee, he was used to doctors trembling in his presence. "You really think you can get away with the scene you just made? You think the OR is your playground and the people are your servants?"
He stepped closer, his shadow falling over her. "You think just because you saved a life, you'll be worshipped and pampered like an idol? Snap out of it! Do you have any idea what the punishment is for what you did? Intentionally delaying a surgery while a chest is open? Extorting the Chief's position? Attacking grieving families? I can have your license suspended for six months before the sun goes down!"
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