“Yuna.”
Han Miyeong’s voice trembled.
She carefully took her daughter’s pale hand. It was the same hand she had held countless times over the past two years—yet it had never once responded.
At that very moment, as if by a miracle, the tips of Yuna’s fingers moved ever so slightly.
“Darling! Yunho! Yuna is...!”
Jang Cheolmin and Yunho leapt to their feet at the same time.
Yuna’s eyelids trembled slowly, and at last, her eyes, which had been tightly shut, began to open little by little.
“Yuna.”
Jang Cheolmin’s voice had never wavered, not even before countless criminals as a prosecutor. But now, at this very moment, it trembled violently.
Yuna’s pupils moved slowly, struggling to focus. Her lips quivered faintly, and at last, she made a small sound.
“Da...d...”
It was faint, but unmistakably the voice of a daughter calling for her father.
Tears streamed down Jang Cheolmin’s face. The title of stern prosecutor disappeared, leaving behind only a father who had waited for his daughter.
“Big Sister!”
Yunho took his sister’s hand. Beside him, Han Miyeong burst into tears and pulled Yuna into her arms.
“Mo...ther...”
Yuna struggled to open her mouth. The two of them embraced her tightly, sobbing without a word.
“My daughter. My daughter, Yuna. Thank you. Thank you so much for coming back to us.”
With trembling hands, Han Miyeong stroked Yuna’s face. The moment she had desperately imagined for two years had become reality.
Holding his sister’s hand tightly, Yunho said,
“Big Sister, I missed you so much. I waited for you for such a long time.”
Clear tears rolled down Yuna’s cheeks. She struggled to form a faint smile.
Taehо, who had been quietly watching the scene, lowered his head without a word. He barely managed to suppress the emotions surging within his chest.
Just then, Jang Cheolmin approached Taeho and bowed deeply.
“Director Kang. Thank you so much. For bringing our Yuna back to us...”
“No. Yuna herself was the one who overcame the greatest battle.”
Taeho took Yuna’s wrist and checked her pulse.
“In fact, there’s a very high possibility that Yuna was not completely unconscious over the past two years.”
The family’s expressions hardened at his words.
Jang Cheolmin’s voice sank low and heavy.
“What does that mean?”
“Medically, it’s called locked-in syndrome. It refers to a state in which the body is unable to move, while consciousness remains normal. There’s a very high possibility that Yuna heard and understood everything happening around her during that time.”
Han Miyeong muttered in despair,
“Then... are you saying she heard everything we said?”
Taeho nodded carefully.
“According to the records from Se Young Hospital, there were several instances in which Yuna showed subtle responses. But the medical staff ignored all of them and simply moved on.”
Anger slowly rose across Jang Cheolmin’s face.
“What do you mean, they ignored them?”
“Even though Yuna showed conscious responses, they conducted no further examinations or treatment whatsoever. To them, Yuna was as good as a patient who no longer existed.”
With tears in her eyes, Han Miyeong looked at Yuna.
“Yuna. So that’s why you cried all this time. The nurses said it was merely a reflex, but that wasn’t true. You were really crying.”
Another tear flowed from Yuna’s eyes. Very slowly, but clearly, she nodded.
Then she struggled to open her mouth.
“I... heard... everything.”
At those words, the hospital room filled with icy silence.
“It was so... frightening. No matter how much I called out... no one could hear me.”
Yuna’s voice carried the pain and despair of the past two years.
“I heard it all... when the doctors said there was no hope...”
Jang Cheolmin clenched his fists and rose from his seat. The cold, penetrating gaze of a prosecutor returned to his eyes.
“This isn’t simple medical negligence. It’s an obvious crime.”
“I’ll make them suffer the same pain Yuna endured. I’ll make sure every person responsible is punished.”
Han Miyeong rose to stand beside her husband as well.
***
The car speeding along the highway was filled with heavy silence.
In the driver’s seat, Jang Cheolmin gripped the steering wheel tightly, staring intently only at the road ahead.
Beside him, Han Miyeong gazed blankly at the passing streetlights outside the window, lost in thought. In the back seat, their son Yunho had fallen asleep, unable to withstand the fatigue of the long day.
Jang Cheolmin quietly drew a breath before speaking.
“The chief prosecutor intends to bury the Se Young Hospital case after all. If we stay still, all the evidence will disappear.”
Han Miyeong slowly turned to look at her husband. Their eyes met briefly.
“Now that they’ve taken the case to the Central District Prosecutors’ Office, they’ll drag their feet until the media loses interest. Then it’ll be over. We’ll never get another chance.”
Anger colored Jang Cheolmin’s voice.
Han Miyeong pressed her lips together and remained silent for a moment before speaking with determination.
“In the end, a special prosecutor is the only option. This is something the prosecution can’t possibly stop from within.”
Jang Cheolmin nodded.
“Yes. There’s no answer left except a special prosecutor. But that requires a political decision. I need your help.”
Han Miyeong turned her gaze back out the window and sank into deep thought. Everything she had endured until now flashed through her mind like scenes from a film. Fear and anger, along with her love for her daughter Yuna, clashed violently within her.
“I’ll gather lawmakers who are willing to pursue this case to the very end. I’m not going to back down anymore either.”
Strength filled Han Miyeong’s voice.
After hearing his wife’s words, Jang Cheolmin let out a deep breath.
After Yuna had become bedridden in a vegetative state, the relationship between the couple had never been the same. It hurt simply to look each other in the face, so they had lived on while maintaining nothing more than the formal appearance of a family. But now, they had become the strongest allies, united by the same goal.
“Darling, it won’t be easy. Our opponent is the chief prosecutor.”
“I know. But if we cover this up now, we’ll regret it for the rest of our lives. And we’ll never be able to bear how sorry we are to Yuna.”
At that moment, Yunho shifted in his sleep in the back seat and murmured softly,
“Mom...?”
Han Miyeong turned around and looked at Yunho, soothing him in a quiet voice.
“Go back to sleep, Yunho. We’re almost there.”
Yunho began breathing peacefully again and fell back asleep. Han Miyeong and Jang Cheolmin smiled faintly as they looked at him in the back seat.
Jang Cheolmin tightened his grip on the steering wheel once more and fixed his gaze on the road ahead. Determination lingered in his eyes, while beside him, a blazing will to fight surged within Han Miyeong’s chest.
There was still one thing the director of Se Young Hospital and the president of the Korean Medical Association did not know.
They did not yet know how terrifying the power of enraged parents could be when their child was at stake.
The car carrying the two of them sped through the darkness toward Seoul.
***
Even late at night, the living room of their home was brightly lit. On Han Miyeong’s laptop, sitting atop the large desk, was a draft titled, “Bill on the Appointment of a Special Prosecutor (Tentative Title).”
Gazing at the draft, Han Miyeong spoke with a serious expression.
“To introduce the special prosecutor bill during the final session of this regular National Assembly, we need to obtain the signatures of 151 lawmakers within forty-eight hours. If we frame it as ‘chaebol hospital lobbying,’ the media will be easy to move, regardless of party affiliation.”
Jang Cheolmin, seated across from her, nodded and handed her a stack of documents.
“I’ve compiled a list of first- and second-term lawmakers, from both the ruling and opposition parties, who have emphasized the public nature of healthcare.”
Han Miyeong accepted the materials and her eyes gleamed.
“Good. I’ll personally persuade the floor leaders and key lawmakers of the Health and Welfare Committee. You prepare an anonymous briefing for the reporters. Leak some of the internal evidence and plant the image in the media that the prosecution is trying to bury the case.”
Without a word, Jang Cheolmin took out a folder. The seal on it clearly read, “CCTV Footage and Call Records of Song Gibok, Park Seongho, and Jo Munsik’s Golf Course Meeting.”
“This is our last-resort card. We should release it only immediately before the special prosecutor is announced.”
Han Miyeong stared at the materials for a moment before speaking with a short sigh.
“The president of the Korean Medical Association is the problem. His influence is greater than we thought. Quite a few lawmakers are close to him. To move them, we need a powerful case.”
The two of them fell silent and sank into thought.
Han Miyeong murmured,
“It would be nice if some incident broke out—something capable of pulling public opinion over to our side...”
***
Seoul Grand Hyatt Hotel—Grand Ballroom
“WHO Asia-Pacific Symposium on Medical Innovation”
Around five hundred medical professionals from around the world filled the grand ballroom. Major domestic broadcasters, along with renowned foreign media outlets, packed the venue as they competed to cover the event.
Taeho had been invited and was seated to one side of the audience, but the ongoing pressure from the investigation left him unable to relax. Onstage, Dr. Rajiv Patel, the WHO Secretary-General for the Asia-Pacific region, was calmly delivering the opening address.
“Ladies and gentlemen, today we celebrate medical innovation that saves lives...”
The interpreter followed his words in Korean.
“신사숙녀 여러분, 오늘 우리는 생명을 구하는 의료 혁신을 기념합니다...”
Taeho glanced at his watch. He wanted the event to end quickly so he could check on Yuna.
Then the atmosphere suddenly changed.
“There is one special presentation prepared for today.”
Dr. Patel paused and looked around the audience. Since it was not included in the official program, the hall instantly fell silent.
“Dr. Kang Taeho of Korea, would you please come up to the stage?”
Every gaze focused on Taeho. The foreign doctor seated beside him whispered encouragingly,
“Go, Doctor. This is your moment.”
Taeho slowly rose from his seat.
The applause that had begun quietly quickly swelled until it filled the auditorium.
When Taeho stepped onto the stage, the glare of the lights momentarily prevented him from seeing the audience clearly. Hundreds of eyes were focused solely on him.
Dr. Patel’s voice rang out.
“For the past six months, I have heard an astonishing story about one doctor. He is the very doctor who saved the president of Gambia with an innovative treatment and gave up his own award at a ceremony in Switzerland to care for an emergency patient.”
Dr. Patel’s voice rose as he made his declaration.
“We hereby appoint Dr. Kang Taeho as the WHO Special Adviser for Emergency Medical Innovation!”
In an instant, the grand ballroom erupted with explosive applause and cheers.
Every attendee rose to their feet and applauded.
Taeho looked around as though he could not believe what was happening.
From the press area set up to one side of the stage came the rapid sounds of camera shutters and keyboard typing. Reporters from broadcasters around the world hurriedly attempted to establish live connections.
“We have breaking news. The WHO has officially appointed Dr. Kang Taeho, a rural Korean doctor, as its ‘Special Adviser for Emergency Medical Innovation’!”
“This is an extraordinary decision. It is extremely rare for a physician from a regional hospital in Korea to be appointed as an official adviser to an international organization!”
Taeho’s face appeared clearly on the giant screen.
His expression reflected both bewilderment and emotion.
Dr. Patel added one final, forceful statement.
“We formally request that the Korean government protect and support this outstanding medical professional. The entire world is watching.”
After a brief silence, enthusiastic applause and cheers erupted once more.
The YouTube comment feed beneath the live broadcast quickly began to surge as well.
—If the WHO recognizes him, he must really be incredible, right? He still looks so young, too. Wow.
—Wow, a truly national-treasure-level doctor has appeared, lol.
—I’m so proudㅠㅠ He’s really elevating the standing of Korean medicine.
—I’m even more excited to see what comes next. Government, please give people like him all the support they deserve!