The cursor blinked on the cracked monitor, tapping out a steady, mocking rhythm in the dim light of the intern breakroom. I sat in the stiff plastic chair, my spine curved, feeling the ache settle deep into my lumbar spine. The harsh, artificial glare of the screen illuminated the dusty keyboard, but all I could focus on was the reflection of my own face in the dark margins. I looked like a corpse. The skin under my eyes was bruised a sickly purple, and my black hair was a greasy, tangled mess sticking to my forehead. I tasted old, burnt vending machine coffee at the back of my throat, mixed with the faint, ever-present hospital tang of industrial bleach, rubbing alcohol, and latex. My fingers hovered over the keyboard. They were trembling. Letter of Resignation.To the Administration of Hanseong Central University Hospital:Effective immediately, I, Ryeong Bin, Medical Intern…I couldn't type the rest. The shaking in my hands wasn't from fear or hesitation. It was the physical ma

"Hand over your badge."The massive spike of adrenaline that had kept me standing suddenly evaporated, leaving behind a cold, hollow ache deep in my bones. I looked down at my hands. The dark blood of the eight-year-old boy I had just saved was already drying, turning into stiff, brown flakes against my pale skin and the cuticles of my nails. My fingers were trembling so violently I could barely ball them into fists.Dr. Kang Min-Jae stood perfectly still in the harsh fluorescent light of the trauma bay. His hand remained outstretched, his palm facing up. He didn't blink. He didn't even glance at the boy resting safely on the bed, breathing evenly because I had driven a needle into his chest. Kang only looked at me. To him, I wasn't a doctor who had just saved a life. I was a liability. A flaw in his perfect, ordered, hierarchical hospital.I reached up to my collar. My fingers were slick with sweat and blood, making it difficult to pinch the cheap plastic clip of my ID badge. With a

The continuous, shrill wail of the flatlining heart monitor drilled directly into my skull. It was a sound I heard in my nightmares, but right now, it was tearing through the quiet of Observation Room 3.Mr. Han’s back remained arched off the thin mattress, rigid as a wooden board. The heavy, greasy sheen of sweat on his face caught the harsh fluorescent light above the bed. His eyes were rolled entirely back. The man was dead. His heart had completely stopped pumping blood to his brain."What did you do?!"The scream came from right behind me. Nurse Yu Mi-Sun stood in the doorway, a plastic tray of IV medications dropping from her hands. Tiny glass vials of pantoprazole shattered against the linoleum, splashing clear liquid over my sneakers.She looked from the flatline on the monitor to the massive red crash cart my hands were gripping. Then, she looked at my face, recognizing the dark circles under my eyes and the faded gray hoodie."Intern Ryeong?" Mi-Sun gasped, her voice trembli

"Intern Ryeong, put it down!" Nurse Yu Mi-Sun cried out. Her voice was shrill, completely unraveled by panic. She backed away toward the door, her hands pressed over her mouth. "You're suspended! If you cut him, it's murder! Daewon said let him go!"I didn't look at her. My eyes were locked on the glowing blue text hovering above Mr. Han's chest. [Mission Update: Perform Emergency Thoracotomy.][Objective: Open the chest cavity. Cross-clamp the aorta.]I was a twenty-six-year-old intern. I had held retractors in the OR. I had suctioned blood for senior surgeons. I had never opened a human chest by myself. Doing it here, without anesthesia, without a sterile field, without an attending physician—it wasn't just malpractice. It was a guaranteed prison sentence. But I looked at Mr. Han’s face. It was completely slack, turning the color of wet cement. He had a family. He had come to the hospital trusting us, and Dr. Si Jae had sent him to die with a packet of antacids. I swallowed the d

"Restrain him," Kang repeated, his voice perfectly even. The three security guards lunged forward. Their heavy black boots squeaked violently against the polished linoleum. "Don't touch me!" I roared, my voice tearing through my raw throat. I didn't back away. I threw my entire body weight over Mr. Han’s exposed, ruined chest, hovering my blood-soaked hands inches above the heavy metal clamp cutting off his torn aorta. "If you touch me, I slip. The clamp slips. And he bleeds out right here on the floor in five seconds! Stay back!"The guards froze. They were big men, trained to handle drunk patients and aggressive family members, but they were not prepared for a suspended intern wearing a blood-drenched gray hoodie, standing over a gaping chest cavity like a cornered animal. They looked at Kang for direction, their hands hovering near their utility belts. Dr. Si Jae peered out from behind Kang’s pristine white shoulder. His face was a sickly, pale green, slick with nervous sweat.