On the other hand, Dr. Schmidt?
“What are you all doing?”
“Move.”
Dr. Oliver shouted reflexively.
Taesu and Brad Kim reacted to the sound as well.
Taesu was a bit faster.
“Suction, gauze.”
“Suction first. Here.”
Nurse Ellen handed it over from beside him at once.
Tak.
The moment Taesu took it, Dr. Schmidt’s advice from moments ago came to mind.
‘My style?’
To put it nicely, freestyle. To put it badly, “doing whatever I want.”
If standard surgery was classical music, field surgery was jazz.
It was strongly improvisational and irregular.
That made him hesitate all the more.
It was like barging into a classical performance and playing jazz.
It wasn’t simply something that made no sense; it was the fastest way to ruin the performance.
The performance was the surgery, and the patient.
Ruining it was out of the question.
Hesitate, hesitate.
Taesu’s hands could not move easily.
“……”
Kwaaaarrrk.
The hollow roar of the suction, drawing in only air, sounded loudly.
There were gazes fixed on Taesu—some dissatisfied, some worried.
The dissatisfied gaze belonged to Dr. Oliver.
‘That greenhorn.’
Because Dr. Schmidt was there, he had to suppress his anger, and his irritation only piled up further.
The worry filled Brad Kim’s face.
‘Dr. Choi, hmm.’
Watching as a third party, it pained him even more to see Taesu conflicted.
To immediately fill the gap left by Taesu’s absence, Brad Kim chose to move faster himself.
Sak, sak.
Brad Kim believed in him.
He believed Taesu would definitely show them something.
Ten seconds passed after Taesu stopped both hands.
It was a short time.
But in an emergency, it was a long time.
Taesu still had not budged.
If he was simply letting that time slip away, it would be an even bigger problem.
Fortunately, that was not the case.
Flash.
Taesu’s eyes gleamed for an instant.
Ten seconds.
It was certainly important to the patient, but for Taesu, it was a one-on-one moment with himself that woke him up.
And the conclusion Taesu reached was?
‘Let’s really ruin this performance properly.’
An utterly absurd conclusion had come out.
A jazz musician who had barged into a classical performance.
If one pictured it as it was, the performance was already ruined, just as Taesu had said.
And yet it seemed he truly intended to do it.
The suction and gauze in Taesu’s hands moved at the same time.
His shoulders?
They were light.
Perhaps because his resolve had hardened completely, he felt no burden or pressure.
Suddenly, his eyes met Dr. Schmidt’s.
‘Stir things up however you want.’
That was exactly the look Dr. Schmidt sent him.
His permission was an incredibly bold decision.
If so, it could be interpreted as confidence that he could cover Taesu’s irregular movements.
If the chief surgeon had permitted it, then all Taesu had to say was thank you.
There was no need to delay any longer.
‘Let’s go.’
His eyes flashed, and each of his hands headed toward its destination.
The suction’s destination was a point crossing beneath the international forceps held by Dr. Schmidt.
Kwaaaarrrk.
That position was restricting the chief surgeon’s movements.
Dr. Oliver shouted in shock.
“Dr. Choi, remove that suction at once.”
“I don’t want to.”
“What?”
“I’ll proceed like this.”
Taesu stubbornly held that position for some strange reason.
And that was not all.
As if the DeBakey in his right hand suddenly displeased him, he requested a replacement.
“Mixter.”
“A Mixter right now… sir?”
Nurse Ellen was flustered by a request that clashed sharply with her surgical experience.
Taesu paid no mind and urged her on.
“Quickly.”
“Ah, yes.”
Chak.
She did exchange it for him, but she glanced at Dr. Schmidt and Dr. Oliver.
Taesu did not glance at anyone at all.
Chak, chak.
He even handled the Mixter lightly.
At the same time, he was watching the suction in his left hand.
Kwa-ruk, kwa-ruk.
‘Three… two… now.’
Having measured the timing, Taesu spoke to Dr. Schmidt this time.
“Schmidt, above the suction.”
A helper giving an order to the chief surgeon?
It was not a moment that broke common sense, but one that broke the surgery itself.
“……”
“……”
Dr. Oliver and Brad Kim’s eyes went wide.
On the other hand.
Dr. Schmidt, surprisingly, moved his hand without refusal.
It even felt natural.
“Here?”
“Yes. Hold it and focus that way.”
“Dr. Choi, pay a little more attention to the area between the ruptured liver there.”
This time, Dr. Schmidt gave the order.
He was pointing to a position perfectly suited to a classical standard surgery.
Taesu’s hand immediately reacted to that order.
Sak.
He pulled the suction out at once and headed toward the point Dr. Schmidt indicated. But this time, he laid the suction completely on its side and let go.
The suction was caught on the skin, and only the suction tip was tucked into the ruptured liver tissue.
In short, it was a situation that could not be controlled.
And Taesu?
Chak.
He held out his empty hand to Nurse Ellen and said calmly.
“Long-nose forceps.”
“Dr. Choi, that suction is moving on its own over there…”
“It’s in a good position.”
“Yes, well… here, here you go.”
Nurse Ellen had no choice but to hand over the surgical instrument Taesu wanted.
Taesu directed the long-nose forceps beneath the liver.
It was completely off from the surgical site—no, an entirely wrong place.
He even called Dr. Schmidt with complete confidence.
“Schmidt, three… two… one.”
“Mm. Is that it?”
“Okay.”
When Taesu made a satisfied expression, Dr. Schmidt jerked his chin slightly.
“Mind the suction tip.”
“I’m watching it closely.”
“Good. By the way, Dr. Oliver, Dr. Kim. Why have the two of you stopped?”
Dr. Schmidt’s voice turned cold for an instant.
Only then did Dr. Oliver and Brad Kim realize they had been frozen until now.
“M-move… No, I’ll assist on that side. Brad, focus on the gauze.”
“Understood.”
Flustered and hurried.
Their hands carried a bit of busyness, matching how dumbfounded they felt.
Still, they were experienced specialists.
After a short while, they found the rhythm of standard surgery again, and their hands became steady.
Meanwhile, Taesu’s bizarre conduct continued.
Before long, he gripped the long-nose forceps he had pushed diagonally beneath the liver.
In that state, he called to Brad Kim, whose hands had just steadied.
“Brad, I’m going to lift more here, so support the bottom with a Deaver.”
“A Deaver all of a sudden?”
“Hurry.”
Taesu urged him without hesitation.
At that order, Brad Kim could not move easily.
The liver was ruptured.
If it was lifted from below, the force would spread left and right, and the wound was bound to open further.
“Uh, uh…”
His eyes wavered, and he glanced at Dr. Schmidt.
Their gazes met in that instant.
Dr. Schmidt’s face, rather, turned questioning.
“This is an emergency. Hurry.”
“Yes, yes.”
He answered first, for now.
When the chief surgeon gave an order, he could not argue.
Chak.
Brad Kim quickly picked up the Deaver and carefully slid it beneath the liver.
Taesu, standing on the opposite side, looked a little strange.
Sak, sak-sak.
He bent over and moved left and right, examining the liver’s position from multiple angles.
His movements were beyond busy; they were distracted.
“Mm, no… mm.”
He even muttered something to himself.
That, too, was far from common sense.
Most surgeries were performed for a long time in a static posture.
But Taesu was not conscious of that at all.
After examining it a few more times, Taesu gestured to Brad Kim.
“Brad, the Deaver.”
“Yeah. Here.”
“No, you can’t hand it to me.”
“Got it. This way, like this… Is that good?”
Sseuk.
Brad Kim pushed the Deaver forward.
Taesu was already not looking at it.
He was examining elsewhere with his eyes while guiding the direction with his hand and mouth.
Twitch, twitch.
“A little lower.”
“Uh… no, a little this way, little by little…”
Whip, whip.
Taesu was not even mentioning units of distance.
A narrow, quick hand motion meant move it a little, while a wide, slow motion meant move the Deaver a lot.
It felt like he was giving hand signals for unloading cargo from a truck.
Meanwhile, Dr. Schmidt was moving his hands with a calm and stable air.
He did not seem bothered by Taesu’s frantic movements beside him.
Even with that steadiness, he was moving quickly enough.
“Oliver, saline.”
“Yes. Um, Professor…”
“Let’s continue with the liquid hemostatic agent first.”
“That… yes.”
Dr. Oliver had an encyclopedia’s worth of things he wanted to say, but in the current situation, where he could not utter a single word, he was going mad.
In that way, the surgical atmospheres of Taesu and Dr. Schmidt were clearly different.
Classical Dr. Schmidt and thoroughly jazz-like Taesu were tangled together.
And yet, somehow, something was working.
There was nothing immediately visible, but that subtle atmosphere carried a tingling sense that something might be created from it.
After gesturing a few more times, Taesu moved his hand first.
“Suction… Schmidt.”
“It’s easier to see on that side now.”
“Then I’m pulling it out.”
Taesu slowly lifted the suction.
Perhaps because it had suctioned only one spot intensively, it looked as though an island had formed in a sea of bleeding.
“It’s done.”
“I saw it.”
“I’m moving.”
Sasak.
Taesu irresponsibly pulled the suction out completely.
Blood was surging everywhere.
It was only a matter of time before the exposed island sank again.
Dr. Schmidt’s hand approached the empty space and quickly filled it.
“Oliver, let’s anastomose the severed round ligament of liver first.”
“What? No, when did this… I’ll prepare.”
“You’re preparing now? You’re late.”
“I’m sorry. Please proceed. Nurse, give me the hook first…”
Dr. Oliver quickly requested a change of surgical instruments.
To hurry after Dr. Schmidt, who had already begun the anastomosis, he now had to feel anxious.
Meanwhile, Taesu directed the suction beneath the liver.
Taesu looked for Brad Kim first.
“Brad, now hook the Deaver.”
“Like this?”
Tak.
“Mm, like this. Okay. Lift slightly.”
“Got it.”
Sseuk.
Brad Kim moved according to the signal Taesu gave.
At his touch, the liver caught on the Deaver lifted slightly. It was a place where the bleeding pouring from the ruptured liver had pooled and was sloshing.
Kwa-ruk, kwa-ruk.
Taesu pushed the suction in immediately and began suctioning.
That was not the end.
“Ellen, liquid hemostatic agent.”
“Yes.”
Sasak.
Nurse Ellen now simply moved according to what she heard.
While she prepared it, Taesu glanced at Brad Kim’s empty hand and said,
“Brad, stand by with a bulldog clamp.”
“Bulldog? What are you blocking?”
“Hurry. Timing.”