Yoon Mu-shin's eyes snapped open, his soldier's instinct immediately registering the unfamiliar surroundings before memory caught up. The hospital dormitory. The Doctor System. The bus accident.
He sat upright, checking his watch—he'd only been asleep for fifteen minutes. Cursing under his breath, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and moved with practiced efficiency. The intern uniform hung in the small closet beside his assigned bed, the fabric still crisp with newness. He changed quickly, fastening the name tag that identified him as "Dr. Yoon Mu-shin, Intern" to his breast pocket.
As he straightened his collar, his reflection in the small mirror on the wall caught his attention. The face looking back at him was familiar yet strange—Yoon Mu-shin, not Surya. Twenty-five years, and sometimes he still expected to see his old self.
"Focus," he muttered, turning away from the mirror. There were patients waiting, lives that needed saving. Identity crises could wait.
The emergency room was located on the ground floor, and Mu-shin navigated the hospital corridors with the help of clearly marked signs. As he approached, the sounds of controlled chaos grew louder—urgent voices calling for assistance, monitors beeping at various tempos, the squeaking wheels of gurneys being rushed through doors.
When he pushed through the double doors into the ER, the scene that greeted him was more intense than he'd anticipated. The normally spacious emergency department had transformed into something resembling a field hospital. Every bed was occupied, with additional stretchers lining the hallways. Medical staff moved between patients with urgent purpose, their scrubs already stained with blood and antiseptic.
Mu-shin counted at least fifty-five patients on stretchers, many still awaiting initial assessment. Fourteen residents, including Chief Resident Nam Kyung-soo, were spread throughout the room, each handling multiple cases simultaneously. The attending physicians were likely in the trauma bays or operating rooms with the most critical cases.
No one noticed Mu-shin's arrival; they were too focused on the tasks at hand. He observed the nurses working alongside the residents—young nurses like Ryu Jin-ho with his meticulous movements, Hwang Sun-yong calling out vital signs with calm precision, Jang Mi-Kyung applying pressure to a bleeding wound, and Oh Ji-won preparing injection trays with practiced hands.
The senior nurses—Kim Hye-jin, Song Eun-jung, and Ahn Soo-min—coordinated the chaos with the efficiency that came from years of experience. Despite being in their early thirties, they moved with the energy of staff half their age, directing the nursing students and ensuring supplies reached the doctors who needed them most.
Even the nurses-in-training were fully engaged, their faces showing a mixture of determination and barely contained anxiety as they assisted with tasks within their limited scope of practice.
For a moment, Mu-shin felt a wave of panic. The scale of the disaster was overwhelming, even for someone who had seen combat. But then his military training kicked in, along with the calm that had kept him alive through countless dangerous situations in his previous life.
Assess. Prioritize. Act.
His eyes scanned the room, taking in the patients who hadn't yet received attention. Some were bleeding profusely from open wounds, others had exposed bone visible through torn flesh, and several had head injuries with blood matting their hair.
He needed assistance. Spotting a young woman in a nurse-in-training uniform moving past him with a tray of basic supplies, he reached out and gently but firmly caught her wrist.
"Excuse me," he said, his voice carrying the natural authority of someone used to command. "I'm Dr. Yoon, new intern. From this moment, you'll be assisting me exclusively. What's your name?"
The young woman looked startled, her eyes widening as she glanced down at his hand on her wrist, then up to his face. Her name tag identified her as Bae Yu-mi, Nurse-in-Training.
"B-Bae Yu-mi, sir," she stammered, clearly confused by this unfamiliar doctor taking charge.
"Nurse Bae, we have patients who need immediate attention. Follow me," Mu-shin said, releasing her wrist but maintaining eye contact to ensure she understood the urgency.
Without waiting for further acknowledgment, he turned and moved toward a middle-aged man sitting on a stretcher, holding a blood-soaked cloth to his head. The man's face was pale, his eyes unfocused—signs of blood loss and possible concussion.
As Mu-shin approached, he felt a subtle shift in his vision. Colors became more vibrant, details sharper. The [Eye Of The Doctor] skill had activated, and suddenly he could see beyond the obvious head wound. He noted the man's slightly uneven pupils, the faint bruising beginning to form along his temple, the way his left hand trembled slightly when he adjusted the cloth against his wound.
"Sir, I'm Dr. Yoon," Mu-shin introduced himself, keeping his voice calm and reassuring as he gently moved the man's hand away from the wound. "I'm going to examine your injury now. Can you tell me your name?"
"Kim... Kim Dae-jung," the man replied, his voice slightly slurred. "Something hit my head when the bus... when it..."
"It's alright, Mr. Kim. You don't need to explain right now," Mu-shin said, carefully parting the man's hair to examine the wound. "Nurse Bae, I need gauze, antiseptic solution, hemostatic agent, suture kit, and local anesthetic."
Yu-mi nodded and began arranging the requested items from her tray. Some were already there; for others, she quickly retrieved them from a nearby supply cart.
The wound was approximately seven centimeters long, a jagged laceration that had cut through the scalp down to the periosteum covering the skull. Fortunately, the skull itself appeared intact, though Mu-shin couldn't rule out a hairline fracture without imaging.
"Mr. Kim, you have a deep cut that needs cleaning and stitches," Mu-shin explained as he accepted a pair of sterile gloves from Yu-mi. "I'm going to numb the area first, then clean and close the wound. You'll feel some pressure, but it shouldn't hurt. If you feel pain at any point, tell me immediately."
With practiced movements that felt both familiar and strangely new—his own medical training enhanced by the system's granted skills—Mu-shin prepared the local anesthetic.
"Small pinch now," he warned before administering the injection around the wound margins. Mr. Kim winced but remained still.
While waiting for the anesthetic to take effect, Mu-shin continued his assessment. "Are you experiencing dizziness? Nausea? Any trouble with your vision?"
"A little dizzy," Mr. Kim admitted. "And my head is pounding."
Mu-shin nodded, making mental notes. "Nurse Bae, after we finish here, Mr. Kim will need a head CT to rule out intracranial bleeding and skull fracture. Please prepare the paperwork while I suture."
Yu-mi looked momentarily uncertain—perhaps wondering if an intern had the authority to order such tests—but nodded and began preparing the forms.
Testing the wound area with a gentle probe, Mu-shin confirmed the anesthetic had taken effect. "I'm going to clean the wound now, Mr. Kim. You'll feel me touching your head, but it shouldn't hurt."
Using antiseptic-soaked gauze, he methodically cleaned the wound and surrounding area, removing debris and clotted blood to reveal the full extent of the injury. The [Eye Of The Doctor] skill allowed him to identify and remove even the smallest foreign particles that might cause infection later.
"Irrigation syringe," he requested, and Yu-mi placed it in his outstretched hand without hesitation.
He flushed the wound with sterile saline, ensuring all contaminants were removed before applying the hemostatic agent to control the persistent bleeding common in scalp wounds.
"Suture kit," he said, and again Yu-mi responded promptly.
With precise movements, Mu-shin began closing the wound. He used a layered closure technique, first placing deep sutures to approximate the galea aponeurosis, then surface stitches to bring the skin edges together. His fingers moved with a certainty that went beyond his actual experience—this was the system's skill enhancement at work.
"Your technique is very precise," Yu-mi commented quietly as she handed him each instrument just before he needed it, their rhythm becoming more synchronized.
Mu-shin didn't respond verbally, but gave a small nod of acknowledgment as he tied off the final suture. The wound was now neatly closed, with minimal tension on the skin that would reduce scarring.
"Antibiotic ointment and sterile dressing," he requested, applying them once Yu-mi provided them.
"Mr. Kim, the wound is closed now," Mu-shin explained as he secured the dressing. "You'll need those stitches removed in about ten days. The CT scan will tell us if there's any other injury we need to address. In the meantime, watch for increased headache, vomiting, confusion, or unusual drowsiness—if you experience any of those, tell the staff immediately."
The man nodded, looking relieved. "Thank you, doctor."
Mu-shin was already moving to the next patient, gesturing for Yu-mi to follow. As they stepped away, a notification appeared in his field of vision:
[Congratulations Host for treating your very first Patient! As a Well Wishes, System gifts the Host:
Emergency First Aid Specialist (Specialist Level)
Host now has comprehensive mastery over:
– Stopping bleeding (hemostasis techniques)
– Stabilizing fractures and immobilization
– Treating head wounds and preventing shock
– Cleaning and dressing open wounds
– Performing CPR and emergency airway management
– Rapid injury assessment under trauma conditions
And more...]
Mu-shin felt another surge of knowledge integrating into his consciousness, but he had no time to dwell on it. The next patient was already waiting—a young woman in her early twenties, her face contorted in pain as she clutched her right arm.
She was dressed in a stylish outfit now stained with blood, her makeup smeared with tears. What immediately caught Mu-shin's attention, however, was the extensive laceration running from her shoulder down to her palm. The wound gaped open in places, revealing the pale yellow of subcutaneous fat and, in the deepest sections, the glistening red of muscle tissue.
"Hello, I'm Dr. Yoon," he introduced himself, his voice gentle but professional. "May I examine your arm?"
The woman nodded, biting her lip as fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. "It hurts so much," she whispered. "Am I going to lose my arm?"
"We're going to do everything we can to make sure that doesn't happen," Mu-shin assured her, carefully supporting her arm as he began his examination. "What's your name?"
"Park Ji-eun," she replied, wincing as he gently manipulated her arm to assess the full extent of the injury.
His enhanced vision allowed him to see that while the wound was extensive, it had miraculously missed major blood vessels and nerves. The laceration was clean-edged, suggesting it had indeed been caused by sharp metal as he'd initially suspected.
"Nurse Bae, I need a suture kit, local anesthetic, irrigation solution, hemostatic agents, and sterile gauze," Mu-shin listed. "Also, prepare for a tetanus booster if Ms. Park hasn't had one recently."
As Yu-mi gathered the supplies, Mu-shin turned back to his patient. "Ms. Park, when was your last tetanus shot?"
Ji-eun shook her head, still focused on her arm. "I don't remember... maybe five years ago?"
"We'll give you a booster to be safe," Mu-shin decided. "The wound on your arm is serious but clean. I'll need to numb it, clean it thoroughly, and then close it with stitches. This will take some time, but I need you to try to stay as still as possible. Can you do that for me?"
She nodded, her eyes fixed on his face as if drawing strength from his calm demeanor.
Mu-shin began by administering the local anesthetic at multiple points along the wound. The length of the laceration meant this process alone took several minutes, during which he continued to talk to Ji-eun, both to distract her and to assess her neurological status.
"Were you on the bus that crashed?" he asked as he worked.
"No," she replied, her voice steadier now. "I was waiting at the bus stop when it happened. Something flew off during the crash—a piece of metal from the bus or maybe from the truck it hit. It all happened so fast."
Once the anesthetic had taken effect, Mu-shin began the meticulous process of cleaning the wound. The laceration was over 30 centimeters long, varying in depth along its course. In some areas, it was superficial, barely penetrating the dermis. In others, particularly near the elbow, it cut deep into the muscle tissue.
"I'm going to irrigate the wound now," he explained. "You'll feel pressure and coolness, but it shouldn't hurt. Tell me if it does."
Using a pressurized irrigation system, he flushed the entire length of the wound with sterile saline, removing dirt, fabric fibers, and other debris. His enhanced vision allowed him to spot even the smallest foreign bodies, which he carefully removed with sterile forceps.
"Nurse Bae, we'll need to close this in layers," Mu-shin said. "Prepare 3-0 absorbable sutures for the deeper tissues and 4-0 non-absorbable for the skin closure."
Yu-mi nodded, her initial uncertainty now replaced with focused efficiency as she prepared the requested materials.
The closure of Ji-eun's wound was a complex procedure that would normally be performed in an operating room rather than the ER. However, with the hospital overwhelmed by the accident victims, Mu-shin knew that less life-threatening injuries like this would have to be handled where they were.
He began with the deepest part of the wound near the elbow, using absorbable sutures to approximate the muscle tissue. His movements were precise and economical, each stitch placed exactly where it needed to be. Next came the subcutaneous layer, closed with a continuous suture technique that reduced tension on the wound edges.
Finally, he turned his attention to the skin closure. For this, he used a combination of techniques—interrupted sutures for areas with more tension, and a fine running suture for areas where cosmetic outcome was more important, like the forearm and wrist.
Throughout the procedure, which took nearly twenty minutes, Ji-eun remained remarkably still, occasionally asking questions about what he was doing or how the recovery would progress.
"Will I have a scar?" she asked as he neared completion of the skin closure.
Mu-shin paused, looking up to meet her eyes. "Yes," he answered honestly. "But with proper care during healing and perhaps some scar management therapy later, it should fade significantly over time."
She nodded, accepting his answer without further comment.
As he placed the final sutures near her palm, being particularly careful around the delicate skin there, Mu-shin gave her instructions for aftercare.
"The wound needs to be kept clean and dry for at least 48 hours. After that, you can shower, but no soaking in baths or pools until the stitches come out. You'll need to return in about two weeks for suture removal, sooner if you notice increasing pain, redness, or discharge from the wound."
Once the suturing was complete, he applied antibiotic ointment and covered the entire length of the wound with sterile dressings.
"Nurse Bae, please administer the tetanus booster and prepare discharge instructions for wound care," Mu-shin directed, before turning back to Ji-eun. "You should have someone stay with you for the next 24 hours, just to help with daily activities while your arm heals. Is there someone who can do that?"
"My roommate," Ji-eun confirmed. "She's actually in the waiting room."
"Good," Mu-shin nodded. "I'll have someone bring her back to help you get ready to go home."
As they prepared to move on to the next patient, Yu-mi gave him an appraising look. "That was impressive suturing, Dr. Yoon. Most interns would have called a plastic surgery consult for a wound like that."
Mu-shin merely nodded, already focusing on their next case—a young man lying on a stretcher nearby, his body covered in multiple wounds. Blood had soaked through his clothes in several places, and a makeshift pressure bandage on his thigh was already saturated.
This patient was in worse condition than the previous two. His face was pale, his breathing rapid and shallow—signs of developing shock. Multiple lacerations covered his arms, chest, and legs, and a particularly concerning head wound continued to bleed despite the gauze pressed against it.
"Sir, can you hear me?" Mu-shin asked, immediately checking the man's pulse. It was rapid and thready—another indication of significant blood loss.
The man's eyes fluttered open, unfocused at first, then locking onto Mu-shin's face. "Am I dying?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Not if I have anything to say about it," Mu-shin replied firmly. "I'm Dr. Yoon. What's your name?"
"Lee... Lee Jun-ho," the man managed.
Mu-shin turned to Yu-mi. "We need IV access immediately. Large-bore catheter, two lines if possible. Prepare a liter of Ringer's lactate to start. Also, get a trauma kit, extra gauze, pressure bandages, and notify the lab we'll need type and cross for potential transfusion."
Yu-mi hesitated only briefly before rushing to gather the requested items. When she returned, Mu-shin had already cut away Jun-ho's blood-soaked shirt to better assess the wounds on his chest and abdomen.
The [Eye Of The Doctor] skill revealed the true extent of the injuries. Multiple lacerations of varying depths covered Jun-ho's torso, but what concerned Mu-shin most was a puncture wound in the right upper quadrant of the abdomen. It was small and partially obscured by blood, but his enhanced vision detected the subtle signs of potential internal bleeding.
"Nurse Bae, after establishing IV access, we need to get portable ultrasound here," Mu-shin said as he applied pressure to the most actively bleeding wounds. "I'm concerned about possible internal hemorrhage."
Yu-mi nodded and began preparing the IV insertion site on Jun-ho's left arm. Her technique was good but slowed by nervousness. Mu-shin noticed her hands trembling slightly.
"You're doing fine," he said quietly. "Focus on the vein, not the patient's condition."
She took a deep breath and steadied her hands, successfully inserting the IV catheter on her first attempt. She quickly connected the fluid line and adjusted the flow rate to maximum.
"Good work," Mu-shin acknowledged. "Now try for a second line on the other arm while I address these wounds."
As Yu-mi moved to establish the second IV, Mu-shin began systematically addressing Jun-ho's external injuries, starting with the most severe. The leg wound was his first priority—a deep laceration that had likely nicked the femoral artery based on the amount of bleeding.
He removed the soaked bandage and immediately applied direct pressure with fresh gauze. "I need a hemostatic agent and arterial clamps," he called out.
When no ultrasound machine appeared to be immediately available, Mu-shin made a quick decision. "Change of plan. This patient needs the trauma team. His injuries are beyond what we can manage here."
He turned to a passing nurse. "Page trauma stat for this patient. Possible internal bleeding with multiple external lacerations and suspected femoral artery involvement."
Turning back to Jun-ho, whose consciousness was beginning to fade, Mu-shin spoke clearly and firmly. "Mr. Lee, stay with me. Help is coming. I'm going to keep pressure on this leg wound until they arrive."
As they waited for the trauma team, Mu-shin continued to manage the bleeding, applying a tourniquet above the leg wound as a temporary measure. Yu-mi successfully established the second IV line, and the fluid was now running into both arms, helping to maintain Jun-ho's blood pressure.
Unlike with the previous patients, Mu-shin found himself having to improvise without all the equipment he would have preferred. When Yu-mi informed him they were out of certain specialized clamps, he adapted using what was available, demonstrating the flexibility that came from both his military background and the system's enhanced skills.
One after another, he addressed each of Jun-ho's wounds with the limited resources at hand, stabilizing the patient until more specialized help could arrive. His movements were efficient, his decisions rapid but considered. This wasn't just about treating injuries—it was about keeping someone alive in less than ideal conditions.
Bae Yu-mi watched with growing respect as this new intern, who she'd never seen before today, worked with the confidence and skill of someone far more experienced. When he requested equipment she didn't have, he didn't waste time complaining but immediately found alternative solutions.
As they continued to work through the emergency room, treating patient after patient, Mu-shin's efficiency became apparent. While other doctors took fifteen to twenty minutes per patient for initial stabilization, he managed to complete similar work in just ten minutes without sacrificing quality of care.
The difference, Yu-mi realized, wasn't just speed—it was the absence of hesitation. Dr. Yoon didn't second-guess his decisions or pause to consider options. He assessed, decided, and acted in one fluid process, as if he'd been doing this for decades rather than just beginning his internship.