PHUW 4

Jeongmok wrapped an arm around the student’s waist as the boy crawled across the dirt. The student twisted and struggled as if the touch disgusted him. But no amount of flailing could overcome Jeong Mok’s strength and frame, the kind any gym-goer would envy. No injured person could win against that.

They’d told him to minimize movement, so Jeong Mok carefully lifted the student from behind, keeping him prone. Like a large dog being lifted, the student thrashed and resisted like a stubborn pet that didn’t want to get its shots. There was no way he’d stay still just because he’d been placed on a box.

“Let… go… fuck… you… bastard… I’ll… kill…”

Even while someone was trying to save his life, he was hurling curses.

“You… fuck… ing… bastard…”

The more Jeong Mok thought about it, the more pissed off he got. The kid had trespassed on a construction site, caused a commotion, and ended up in an accident, yet here he was, making things worse for the person trying to help him.

“Maybe you need to almost die before coming to your senses.”

Harsh words finally came out of Jeong Mok’s mouth.

Bleached and permed hair, fair skin, expensive designer brands from head to toe, he was probably a freshman who had never suffered a day in his life. He likely came to the pension with friends, drank himself stupid playing drinking games, and now had wandered off in the middle of the night.

This wasn’t even the first time.

“You little shit…”

“I swear, if I could just hit you…”

He muttered it loudly on purpose, so he would hear. Even in his half-delirious state, the boy froze.

“S-sor… ry…”

“If you’re sorry, then stay still.”

Jeong Mok tightened his hold around his waist. He wanted to lift him higher, but that might jolt the injured head. The victim, trespasser and drunkard had a small head, pale and thin neck, he couldn’t even hold his head up properly.

Cough.

He coughed up more blood, and his limbs went limp.

“Hey? Hey! Student!”

Now it was getting scary. He didn’t want to kill someone by accident. Even if it was accidental, manslaughter usually meant prison. Jeong Mok’s mind raced.

If the ambulance came, it would go to the same place no matter what: a regional hospital affiliated with a major Seoul university, about thirty minutes away. The fire station was in the opposite direction, and the dispatched ambulance had come from the hospital’s side anyway. If they ran into each other on the road, they could transfer him then.

“We’re going to the hospital.”

He lifted the boy and laid him in the truck bed. It was the only space where he could lie flat.

He brought over a box to use as padding beneath the unconscious body, then strapped him tightly with thick black rubber cords usually used to secure cargo. That way, even if he regained consciousness mid-trip, he wouldn’t be able to move.

He threw his jumper over him to keep him warm, then topped it with another box. It was the safest, warmest option, but once he’d done it, it felt like he was transporting a corpse to be buried in secret.

“Shit.”

Jeong Mok climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine. In his rush, he forgot to fasten the seatbelt and whipped the truck around.

The small blue one-ton truck tore down the faint, greenish dawn road.

On the way to the university hospital, Jeong Mok called 119 again. As he explained the situation and gave his location, an ambulance coming from the opposite lane appeared. He signaled them, and the ambulance quickly turned around.

As soon as Jeong Mok stopped the truck, the ambulance pulled up beside him. The paramedics jumped down and climbed into the truck bed where Jeong Mok pointed. One of them spotted the student, tightly bound, and gave Jeong Mok a suspicious look.

“He kept trying to move even though I told him not to.”

Jeong Mok explained sheepishly and rushed to undo the straps and remove the boxes.

The medic turned on a penlight and checked the boy’s pupil response.

“Can you hear me?”

That damn crazy guy seemed to have to his senses in the meantime. He mumbled something, asking to be let go.

“Will he be okay?”

“He took a blow to the head. We need a full scan. Please help move him.”

Once the airway was secured and a neck brace fitted, the medic asked Jeong Mok for help. Together, they lifted the student onto a stretcher and carefully lowered him from the truck into the ambulance. After being briefed, the paramedic asked Jeong Mok to accompany them. He had planned to go anyway, so he followed behind in his truck.

Possibly because of the suspected brain injury, a doctor was already waiting at the ER. By the time Jeong Mok parked and entered, the student was surrounded by doctors and nurses, being hooked up to all sorts of equipment as they wheeled him away.

The paramedic pointed at Jeong Mok and spoke to the attending doctor. Jeong Mok explained everything that had happened in detail. Once he finished, the doctor gave an update on the student’s condition.

“Considering he hit his head on stone, there’s surprisingly little to see besides the bruising. Nothing on the X-ray. His skull’s thick. But we’ll do a CT scan just in case. But to proceed, we need someone to sign as a guarantor. The paramedic already left.”

As a public hospital, the national medical center would’ve treated him no matter what. But this was a private university hospital. Even doctors with a duty to save lives had to think about hospital policy.

“Can I sign?”

Jeong Mok, still feeling guilty, stepped up. A nurse jumped in right away.

“Yes. Please write down your personal information and contact number, then register it at the front desk. Have you contacted the police?”

“I was just about to.”

“You’ve had a rough time.”

The doctor gave the usual polite comment and moved on to the next patient. Meanwhile, Jeong Mok quietly thanked the student’s ridiculous bone density and felt a little relieved.

He left his number at the reception desk and called the police. Since the student was now in the ER, the officer said there was no rush and that they’d come later. Until then, Jeong Mok had to remain at the hospital.

He suddenly felt fatigue that came belatedly.

‘I’m going crazy.’

If a wild animal came down from the mountain, he could chase it off. Boars weren’t a real problem. At least you could get rid of them.

But well-dressed male college students were the worst guests at pensions or campsites. They’d hit on female guests, make a scene, sneak into others’ rooms or tents while drunk, and commit all kinds of crimes. Even if it didn’t rise to that level, they’d drink, trash the place, break things, then forget all about it and go post some ridiculous “exposé” full of lies that could ruin someone’s business. That’s why many places didn’t even accept groups of young men. It wasn’t just any site either, his cousin was about to open a cafe here. More reason to be cautious.

And of all people, Jeong Mok had thrown a crowbar at a guy who was 99 percent likely to be exactly that kind of troublemaker.

‘If they believe that I mistook him for a boar, I’ll be lucky.’

He wasn’t afraid of an investigation or a trial. What scared him was what could come afterward.

He rubbed his face with a cold hand. He’d already put his doctoral studies on hold because of emotional burnout, and now this.

The workers would be arriving soon. He called the foreman, explained the situation, and asked him not to touch the boxes or tire marks for now. The foreman replied with a “Yes” in a sympathetic voice.

After the call, Jeong Mok rubbed his aching forehead.

When he closed his eyes, the face of the person he’d loved most in his life surfaced. He had promised himself he would forget, had deleted every photo from his phone and kept only the ones on his home laptop, thinking that would help him move on. Now, he regretted it deeply.

“Song-ya. I’m having a hard time today.”

He said the name he missed and let out a long, weary sigh.

“Excuse me, are you the guardian of the unidentified patient?”

A nurse glanced around the hallway. He wasn’t the guardian, just the guarantor, but Jeong Mok raised a hand and stood up.

He followed her down the corridor. The student, fresh from the CT scan, was wheeled past him. He groaned faintly and waved an arm with an IV, only to be stopped by another nurse. The doctor pointed to the CT image on the screen. Used to emergencies, he avoided jargon and kept his explanation concise.

“The bruising on the forehead is bad, but there’s no sign of brain trauma or subdural hemorrhage. No surgery needed. His skull is steel. He’s concussed, though. Not serious enough to hospitalize right now. He can go home after finishing the IV and picking up his meds. I’ll book him a follow-up with neurology in a week. Until then, he should rest as much as possible at home. If anything strange happens, bring him back right away. Sometimes internal bleeding shows up later.”

“I unfortunately. But I’m not family.”

“Ah.”

The doctor finally realized Jeong Mok was just the person who made the report, not a relative, and looked awkward.