Taeho gave an awkward laugh.
“Oh Jiwon? What brings you here at this hour?”
“I heard you were coming to inspect the construction site, sunbae. Don’t tell me you forgot Gilcheon is our hospital?”
“Forgot? Of course not…”
Taeho scratched the back of his head, searching for something to say.
“How have you been lately? Doing well?”
“Yes, I’m doing well. Not as busy as you, sunbae.”
Oh Jiwon’s voice was bright, but Taeho could sense the hurt in her eyes.
She was the junior who had always followed behind him since their undergraduate days.
It would not be an exaggeration to say that Taeho had managed to graduate from medical school without starving to death thanks to Oh Jiwon, back when he had always been short on money.
Just as Taeho was about to speak, Oh Jiwon spoke first.
“I saw on the news that you married a princess from the UAE. At first I was shocked, and then I felt really hurt.”
Oh Jiwon smiled bitterly.
“Jiwon…”
“You married someone that beautiful and didn’t even invite me. Honestly, back in undergrad, you were an outcast, sunbae. If you didn’t even invite me, the closest friend you had, then of course you wouldn’t have invited any of the other seniors or juniors either, right?”
“I couldn’t invite anyone. The wedding happened so suddenly.”
“That’s not how people do things…”
Jiwon protested faintly.
She seemed about to pout, but tears quickly welled in her eyes.
Taeho panicked.
“Ah, I’m sorry. It was so far away from here, and everyone would’ve been busy working at the hospital…”
“That’s not it. Sunbae, you don’t have any family.”
Jiwon replied, holding back her tears.
“You don’t have anyone. Anyone to stand behind you and clap for you. Your parents aren’t here, and you don’t have any siblings. There wouldn’t have been anyone on your side to sincerely congratulate you and wish you happiness. You should’ve called me, at least. No matter what was going on, I would’ve dropped everything and gone… I could’ve stood behind you and clapped enough for a hundred people, and wished you happiness…”
Jiwon meant every word.
Taeho felt a warmth rise in his chest. He swallowed the sudden lump in his throat and gave a light laugh.
“Thanks. As expected, you’re the only one who thinks of me, O Jiwoni!”
Jiwon glared at Taeho briefly, as if he were being irritating, then continued.
“When I first heard about your marriage on TV, I thought I was dreaming. Then reality slowly started to sink in. I thought about it for a long time. Had you ever, even once, looked at me as a woman?”
Taeho could not answer.
Jiwon gave a small laugh.
“You hadn’t. Not even once did you ever look at me as a woman. Even when I said something that was almost like a confession, you just said you’d never thought about it and suggested we go eat. And not long after that, you ran off to Samcheok.”
“Jiwon, if I hurt you…”
“No.”
Jiwon waved her hand.
“I’m okay now. I’ve decided to remain your closest junior. I think that’s my place. Even if you hadn’t married a princess, my turn wouldn’t have come anyway. Sigh, I can’t believe it took me almost ten years to realize that… I must have been truly blind.”
It was a blunt and refreshingly straightforward conclusion, just like Oh Jiwon.
Taeho was sincerely grateful to her.
“And actually, there’s someone I’ve been seeing lately too.”
“Wow, really?”
“Yes. He’s a doctor in thoracic surgery here. He transferred to Gilcheon last year, and he’s a really good person. Calm, warm, and above all, he sees me as a woman.”
A smile spread across Jiwon’s face.
“Well, he’s not a genius like you, sunbae! But I can live with that much disappointment.”
“That’s great. I’m really glad.”
Jiwon smiled playfully.
“But you absolutely have to come to my wedding. I’ll invite you. And you have to give me a lot of congratulatory money too. You’re really rich now, sunbae.”
“Sure, I’ll definitely come. And I’ll give plenty.”
Taeho smiled too. His heart felt much lighter.
“Wow, I didn’t even get to eat dinner because I was waiting for you, sunbae. Now you have to buy me a meal.”
“Fine, O Jiwoni. What do you want to eat?”
“Hmm… What’s the most expensive thing around here…”
The two of them walked out, laughing in good spirits.
***
Taeho opened the car door and climbed into the driver’s seat.
“Ugh…”
As soon as he sat down, a dull pain struck his lower back. Starting at five in the morning, he had driven through Busan, Daegu, and Seoul. Just today alone, he had driven more than five hundred kilometers.
Before starting the engine, he reclined the seat and closed his eyes.
Five minutes. Just five minutes of rest.
But his mind would not stop.
‘The sensors at the Jungnang sewage treatment plant go in for inspection tomorrow, and Busan has to finish five locations by the day after tomorrow. The German parts for Seyeong Hospital’s negative-pressure wards arrive on the thirtieth, so installation starts in early January…’
His phone alarm rang.
Taeho rubbed his tired eyes and picked up his phone.
He made a call. After two rings, Amira’s voice came through.
—Habibi!
“Amira, did you have dinner?”
—Yes, I just ate. Did you have dinner, habibi?
“I did. I just finished work at Gilcheon Medical Center and I’m about to leave for Samcheok.”
—You’re going to ruin your health.
Concern colored Amira’s voice.
“I’m fine. I’m used to it.”
Taeho smiled. It felt strange, and he was grateful, to have someone who worried about him.
“I’m sorry, Amira.”
—For what?
“For leaving you alone all the time.”
“Habibi. Don’t say you’re sorry. I know how important the work you’re doing right now is. Many people’s lives depend on it.”
Taeho’s chest tightened.
“Thank you, Amira.”
—Drive safely. I love you, habibi.
“I love you, Amira.”
He hung up.
For a moment, Taeho sat there holding his phone. On the screen, his wallpaper showed a photo he had taken with Amira.
It had been taken in the garden of the royal palace in Abu Dhabi.
Taeho closed his eyes, opened them, and spoke.
“Rema, check the progress.”
—Yes. Understood.
—Early warning system: 75% complete.
—Integration with 200 hospitals: 153 complete, 47 in progress.
—Rapid diagnostic kit deployment: 37,500 / 50,000.
—Issue: network connection delays at three hospitals on Jeju Island.
—Wastewater epidemiological surveillance network: 60% complete.
—Installation in 50 cities: 30 complete, 20 in progress.
...
‘There’s still a long way to go. Six months is far too short.’
The stockpiling of strategic supplies was especially a problem. He had placed an order for fifty ECMO machines with full advance payment, but because the production period was long, they were arriving in batches. The final shipment would not come in until the end of March.
‘The end of March. The predicted outbreak is in April, so there’s only one month of leeway.’
He took a sip of water.
“Rema. Tomorrow’s schedule?”
A route appeared on the screen along with a map.
—8:00 a.m. Inspection of the negative-pressure ward expansion site at Chungnam National University Hospital in Daejeon. Current progress rate 38%, negative-pressure system piping work underway.
—Site manager: Director Lee Seungho. Key checkpoints: HEPA filter installation schedule, electrical wiring layout status.
—10:30 a.m. Inspection of three sites at Daejeon sewage treatment plants. Daejeon East, West, and North Treatment Plants. Total travel distance 27 km, recommended stay time 30 minutes per site. East is currently operational; West and North are under installation.
—Expected issue: 15% possibility of sensor calibration error at the North Treatment Plant.
“Why the North?”
—Data reception was interrupted for twelve minutes at 9 p.m. last night. It recovered automatically, but poor sensor contact is suspected. On-site confirmation recommended.
“Got it. I’ll check.”
—1:00 p.m. Travel from Daejeon to Gwangju. Distance 168 km, estimated travel time 1 hour 50 minutes.
—3:00 p.m. Site inspection at Chonnam National University Hospital in Gwangju…
“Another four hundred kilometers tomorrow.”
Taeho gave a bitter smile.
But he could not stop. Unless he saw the sites in person, he could not find the problems. On paper, everything was written as proceeding smoothly, but when he actually went there, obstacles such as budget issues, labor shortages, and material delays were everywhere.
‘It only gets solved if I move.’
Taeho raised the seat back up and started the engine.
“Let’s go.”
The car left the parking lot.
It was late at night, so the highway was quiet. Taeho turned on the radio.
—This is the news. Today, the Korea Disease Control and Prevention Agency announced that construction of a real-time infectious disease monitoring system in two hundred hospitals nationwide has been largely completed. This system, led by Director Kang Taeho of the Geumsan Research Institute…
Taeho opened the window slightly.
Cold wind brushed his face. It felt as though it woke him up.
‘Prometheus. No matter how much they try to spread an infectious disease, if we prepare for quarantine to this extent, it won’t be easy. I will stop them, no matter what.’
Taeho gripped the steering wheel tightly and drove into the darkness.
***
Taeho had fallen asleep with his head on the desk.
The nationwide surveillance system dashboard was open on the monitor, and a pen was still in his hand. He had fallen asleep while reviewing the field report from Gwangju.
Bzzzt. Bzzzt.
His phone’s vibration shook the desk.
Taeho opened his bleary eyes and looked at the screen.
+41 22 791 XXXX
Seeing the caller number, it was Geneva, Switzerland.
WHO headquarters?
His heart sank.
A call from the WHO at four in the morning meant…
“This is Dr. Kang.”
Taeho’s voice was hoarse.
—Dr. Kang, it’s Maria.
WHO Director-General Maria Van Kerkhove.
Taeho came fully awake at once. If she was calling him personally, it meant something was seriously wrong.
“Director-General, what’s happened?”
—An unknown febrile illness has broken out in Kinshasa, Democratic Republic of the Congo.
Maria’s voice was heavy.
“When did it start?”
—Four days ago. At first, they suspected a variant of malaria, but unfortunately, that does not seem to be the case.
“The patients?”
—Currently twenty-three patients, eleven deaths.
“A fatality rate of forty-eight percent. Symptoms?”
Taeho picked up his pen and began taking notes.
—The symptoms are a high fever of forty-one degrees, hemorrhaging, and multiple organ failure.
“Have they tested for Ebola?”
—Negative. Marburg, Lassa fever, and Rift Valley fever were all negative as well. It is not any known hemorrhagic fever virus.
Taeho’s hand stopped.
‘An unknown virus.’
Maria’s voice lowered further.
—Dr. Kang. Kinshasa has a population of fifteen million. If this is a new pandemic…
Maria could not finish her sentence.
Taeho covered the phone and spoke quietly.
“Rema, analyze it.”
—Yes. Analyzing…
—Official announcement from the Congolese Ministry of Health confirmed. WHO emergency meeting convening notice confirmed. Three local hospital reports obtained.
—Kinshasa, Democratic Republic of the Congo. Unknown febrile illness. Twenty-three patients, eleven deaths.
—Fatality rate 48%. Symptoms: high fever of 41 degrees, hemorrhaging, organ failure. All existing hemorrhagic fever viruses negative.
Data appeared before his eyes.
—Patient outbreak area is the Ngiri district of Kinshasa. First patient occurred three days ago. Patient age range 15 to 52. Common factor: history of visiting the Ngiri traditional market.
“A traditional market?”
Taeho’s gaze sharpened.
—Dr. Kang, can you hear me?
Maria’s voice.
“Yes, Director-General. There is a high possibility that the Ngiri traditional market is the origin point.”
—We see it that way as well. A local team is investigating, but…
He could sense hesitation on the other end of the line.
“Please tell me.”
—To be frank, Kinshasa is beyond our capacity. The hospital system has collapsed, and there is virtually no quarantine infrastructure. If eleven people have died in four days, then in two weeks, the number will exceed one hundred.
A sigh came through the receiver.
Taeho closed his eyes.
Damn it…
Thanks to Taeho’s warning, countries around the world had been preparing for a pandemic.
But the problem had erupted from the weakest point.
They had targeted a city with a fragile system. Kinshasa’s hospital system was on the verge of collapse, its population density was high, and its sanitation was poor. In other words, it was the perfect environment for a virus to spread.
Taeho spoke.
“I’ll go.”
—Really?
Relief mingled in Maria’s voice.
“But I have conditions.”