Chapter 122.1

Chapter 122.1

They redirected to Yuzhno-Sakhalinsk, a city in the Sakhalin region of Russia, situated near Japan. The city was a hub of administrative and medical facilities.

The St. Petersburg office had contacted the hospital in advance, allowing the helicopter to land safely on a helipad marked with a bold red H.

But it felt like they were clinging to life by a thread. Though they were rushed for emergency treatment, the sight of Jin Hojae, with burn scars covering one side of his face, and Yoo Dawit, whose back was shredded beyond recognition, left a haunting impression.

The more severely injured team members were immediately prepped for emergency surgery. Seoryeong felt as though she had aged years in just a few hours, her entire body drained of energy.

But Wooshin posed an even bigger challenge.

“Instructor, calm down!”

“Get these syringes out of here! I don’t need anesthesia or anything else!”

“…!”

When Lee Wooshin swung his unsteady arm, a wheeled tray crashed to the ground with a sharp clang.

The medical staff yelped and stepped back in alarm as Wooshin staggered, yanked out the IV needle, and flung it onto the floor. A safety bar fell with a metallic thud, and medical carts toppled over like dominos, scattering medicines and creating chaos.

Five doctors rushed to restrain him, grabbing his arms and legs, but his wild strength, like a cornered beast, made it nearly impossible to pin him down.

One doctor shone a penlight into his dilated pupils and urgently shouted, “Excessive adrenaline! We need a tranquilizer now!”

“Адренали́н… Транквилиза́тор…!”

Wooshin covered his ears and shoved the doctors away with even more agitation. He fiercely rejected anything that would make him lose consciousness.

They needed to calm him down and get him into the operating room to stitch up his wounds. Watching the situation unfold left Seoryeong feeling her blood turned cold.

She recalled hearing once, during training, about soldiers who received adrenaline shots before missions. The hormone heightened their heart rate, raised their blood pressure, and flooded their bodies with energy, enabling their muscles to react faster and their bodies to prepare for combat.

But Wooshin had reached that state without any drugs.

“…”

He must be in agony—pain so intense it could kill. Yet he acted like he didn’t feel a thing, and that infuriated her.

He had pushed himself to the brink, piloting the helicopter through a minefield and spires, fueled by nothing but sheer responsibility, rescuing every team member before bringing them here. And even now, he couldn’t let himself rest.

Watching him, Seoryeong felt her chest tighten.

“Instructor, it’s me,” she said at last, unable to bear it any longer. She had taken the syringe from a nurse and hid it behind her back.

Wooshin, clearly dizzy, jerked his head to clear his mind. Then, like a man clutching an oxygen tank, he grabbed Seoryeong and pulled her close, drawing the privacy curtain around them.

His irregular breathing brushed against her neck, and he stood as if still on high alert, ready for battle.

What kind of life has he been living? Seoryeong suppressed the storm of emotions inside her and spoke gently.

“Calm down, Instructor. You need to lie still for treatment.”

“I never said I wouldn’t get treated. I just won’t be sedated.”

“…”

“Just stitch me up as I am.”

She bit back the urge to shout, barely holding on to reason. She couldn’t risk agitating him further.

When the medical team cut his boots away, Seoryeong instinctively covered her mouth with both hands to stifle a gasp. She couldn’t suppress the rising heat in her eyes.

His toes and nails were utterly destroyed, his feet smashed and mangled like dough hammered by a mallet.

“Instructor, your injuries are worse than you think,” she said, her voice trembling.

“And what if something else happens while I’m out of it?” he countered.

“We made it out of the Sakhalin monastery safely.”

“And you think that means this place is safe?”

“…”

“Don’t be so naive, Seoryeong. There’s nothing in this world you can truly trust.”

Even as he spoke bitterly, he pulled her into his feverish embrace, holding her tightly as if to shield her from everything. He remained tense, glaring at anyone who tried to approach, his body language a clear warning to stay back.

“Losing everything can happen in an instant,” he muttered, his voice a mix of anger and despair.

“…”

“I know that better than anyone.”

Seoryeong clumsily wiped the cold sweat from Lee Wooshin’s damp neck, her hands trembling but persistent. He flinched at her gentle touch but held her tighter instead of pushing her away.

She pressed her cheek against his gaunt face, coaxing him to calm down, and then, without warning, she struck the nape of his neck with the edge of her hand.

“―!”

His dazed eyes narrowed in pain for a fleeting moment. Seoryeong didn’t hesitate and immediately plunged the syringe into his arm.