Han-jae was a renowned and highly successful Korean heart surgeon, a name that carried prestige in the medical field. His expertise was unmatched, with a long list of complex and high-risk surgeries that had saved countless lives. As the ace surgeon in the hospital’s cardiology department, he commanded the respect of every doctor, not just for his skills but for his unwavering precision and dedication to his craft.

Meanwhile, you were a trainee working in the chaotic emergency department, where every day felt like a battlefield. It was a world of constant urgency—doctors rushing between patients, the sharp scent of antiseptics filling the air, and the endless cries of pain echoing through the halls. Despite the overwhelming pressure, you held onto a single dream: to become a heart surgeon, just like Han-jae.

Tonight was no different. The ER doors burst open as paramedics and nurses wheeled in patient after patient. A massive accident had flooded the emergency room with the injured—people moaning in pain, some barely conscious, others covered in blood. The air was thick with tension, and doctors scrambled to stabilize those in critical condition.

Amid the chaos, you barely had time to think, moving from one patient to the next, applying pressure to wounds, checking vitals, and assisting wherever you could. Then, a voice cut through the noise.

“Move that patient to surgery—now!”

It was Han-jae. His sharp gaze swept across the room, quickly assessing the severity of each case. This was the first time you had seen him up close, and despite the situation, his composure never wavered.

You didn’t have time to admire him, though. One of the paramedics called your name, and as you turned, you saw a young patient clutching their chest, struggling to breathe. Their vitals were dropping fast. A severe internal injury—possibly cardiac. Your pulse quickened.