Chapter 2

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“Dr. So, is Director Lee coming back today after her medical support dispatch?”

Pausing his equipment setup for a lower extremity strength test, Gi-hyeon glanced over his shoulder to find Kim Seung-hee, a senior therapist from the general ward. Chewing on his lower lip, Gi-hyeon replied, “I’m not sure. When was that tournament supposed to end?”

“Wasn’t it today?”

“Then I imagine she’ll head straight home.”

“Ah… but the youth baseball team is coming in for checkups tomorrow. I feel awful asking the Director to handle it again.”

Her face clouded with apprehension, clearly bothered by the prospect of calling someone currently on a medical dispatch to beg them to cover clinic checkups.

Gi-hyeon was a physical therapist who doubled as an athletic trainer for the sports clinic. However, his career in the field was remarkably short for a man his age. His previous occupation had been entirely unrelated to medicine. He was a career soldier, discharged from the military as a Second Lieutenant right on the absolute verge of his promotion to First Lieutenant. He had his reasons for that.

Following Jo Yeon-oh’s advice after his discharge, he had transferred into a physical therapy university program, finally passing his national board exams the year before last. Consequently, despite being significantly older than the fourth-year therapist Kim Seung-hee, he sat far beneath her in seniority.

As a senior therapist assigned to the general ward, Seung-hee strictly handled regular patients, not athletes. Gi-hyeon found it odd that she was asking about baseball player checkups, a task specifically designated for the sports clinic. Reading the confusion pooling in his eyes, Seung-hee preemptively explained.

“This? I have no idea. Team Leader Lim asked me to cover it for him, but I’m already swamped…”

“If you leave the files, I’ll take care of it.”

“Ah… but I feel bad.”

“It’s sports clinic work anyway. Don’t worry about it.”

“Mm, would you really? Thanks, Dr. So.”

Her face instantly brightened. It was glaringly obvious she hadn’t wanted to meddle in another team’s workload but had been cornered into it by the Team Leader. Offering a light nod, Gi-hyeon sent her off with a word of encouragement. Turning back around, he caught the young athlete waiting for his strength test grinning widely.

“Doc, is there something going on between you and Ms. Kim?”

“What could possibly be going on?”

“Come on, there’s definitely something. I saw that. My radar is crazy good.”

Glancing at the young athlete’s boyish, teasing smirk, Gi-hyeon offered neither confirmation nor denial. It was highly amusing to see the boy brag about an utterly defective radar, but Gi-hyeon also deeply understood the sheer, agonizing boredom of these athletes. Stripped of their ability to train and locked away in a single facility strictly for rehabilitation, they were desperately starved for entertainment. If teasing him provided them a modicum of comfort, Gi-hyeon was more than willing to let them chatter.

Rumors of therapists dating were nothing more than meaningless whispers that would inevitably float around the ward before evaporating entirely. The athletes visiting this hospital were inherently driven by fierce objectives. Even when they sought idle distractions, they quickly snapped their focus back to their futures, pouring their souls into their grueling rehabilitation. That meant even when they relentlessly teased their attending therapist, the banter was entirely devoid of malice.

“Let’s test that ‘good radar’ of yours, then. What do you think your strength results will be today?”

“I have no idea!”

Chuckling softly at the young athlete’s suddenly nervous response, Gi-hyeon secured the heavy buckle around the thigh resting on the examination chair and adjusted the tension screws. The boy began slamming his leg against the resistance. Matching his rhythm with verbal cues, Gi-hyeon kept his eyes glued to the monitor.

“Are you even trying?”

“I’m giving it everything I have!”

“Really? For a second there, I thought your head coach had stopped by to kick the machine for you.”

“Are you kidding me?! Our coach is practically a grandpa!”

“Exactly my point. You’re kicking with grandpa strength right now.”

The athlete shrieked indignantly, complaining that his therapist was deliberately demoralizing him. Unbothered by the whining, Gi-hyeon unfastened the buckle and gave the back of the boy’s head a light, dismissive pat, ordering him to step down. The athlete grumbled, rubbing his head.

The afternoon bled away in a similar, moderately hectic fashion. Next on the routine was circuit training. Having meticulously divided the circuit groups based on the severity of their injuries, Gi-hyeon threw a fleeting glance at Team Leader Lim, who was currently wearing a devastatingly serious expression while playing Minesweeper at his desk, and sharply blew his whistle.

Athletes from various sports moved in unison, each tackling customized circuit training regimens tailored to their specific injury sites and athletic disciplines. Since all the senior trainers were either out on medical dispatches or performing deep-tissue massages on severely injured athletes, this exhausting, rotating circuit duty had somehow fallen squarely onto Gi-hyeon’s shoulders for the third consecutive week. Yet, he never uttered a single word of complaint. He had merely tweaked the routines to ensure the athletes wouldn’t lose their minds from boredom.

“Doc, this is too hard!” the athletes began shrieking in protest.

Arching a single brow, Gi-hyeon replied smoothly, “That’s strange. How do you still have the energy to complain?”

“Ugh, psycho Doc—!”

Dubbing him a psychopath, the athletes wailed as if they were dying. Maintaining his mask of utter indifference, Gi-hyeon half-listened to and half-ignored their whining until the afternoon schedule finally concluded.

Even though it was merely rehabilitation training, repeatedly demonstrating the exercises left him drenched in sweat by the end of his shift. A rehab room post-treatment was inherently chaotic, no matter how often it was tidied between sessions. After quickly restoring a semblance of order, Gi-hyeon hurried back to the main office just in time for the wrap-up meeting.

Team Leader Lim, who had done absolutely nothing but sit on his ass all day, was currently sipping an iced mocha brought in by an athlete who had stopped by to pay his respects.

On the table sat a plastic cup of iced caffe latte, the ice completely melted. It was Gi-hyeon’s portion, though the melted ice had left a pathetic puddle of condensation on the desk. Entirely unaware that a drink had even been bought for him, Gi-hyeon stared blankly at the watery mess.

Catching Gi-hyeon’s gaze, Team Leader Lim spoke with a mocking lilt. “Mr. So, you looked so incredibly busy, I just couldn’t bring myself to call you over. That swimmer kid, what was his name again? The one with the torn rotator cuff. He bought it.”

“Park Cheol-jin, sir.”

“Yeah, whatever. He bought it, so drink up. Cheol-jin absolutely adores you, Mr. So. He specifically brought it for you, but like I said, you looked way too busy to interrupt.”

Lim’s sarcastic retort was immediately followed by grumbling about why Gi-hyeon always made him repeat himself. Across the room, Seung-hee sat at her desk, nervously averting her eyes. Feigning ignorance of South Korea’s premier 400-meter freestyle swimmer was a classic, petty move on Team Leader Lim’s part.

Cheol-jin had visited the hospital for rehabilitation after suffering a mild rotator cuff tear, successfully returning to his team post-treatment. He had promised to drop by once he was fully healed, so it was a bit disappointing that he had to leave without them even crossing paths due to the chaotic schedule.

Nodding silently, Gi-hyeon grabbed the condensation-soaked cup and carried it back to his own desk. Inside, the liquid had transformed into a murky, unappetizing sludge that resembled neither coffee nor water. Tearing his eyes away from the ruined drink, Gi-hyeon tuned back into Team Leader Lim, who was actively leading the meeting.

While debating who to deploy for next week’s medical dispatch, Lim threw a venomous side-eye at Gi-hyeon and clicked his tongue. “I don’t know if I’m managing a subordinate or serving a damn king. I can’t even send one of my own employees out on a medical dispatch without jumping through hoops. Must be nice having such solid backing.”

Though the barb was explicitly aimed at Gi-hyeon, the snide remark technically lacked a direct subject and wasn’t hurled outright to his face, so Gi-hyeon simply let it slide.

Once the meeting wrapped up, Gi-hyeon headed straight for the staff showers. Having personally demonstrated the circuit routines for the whining youth athletes, he was drenched in sweat. The fabric of his scrub pants clung uncomfortably to his skin, and commuting home in this state would be absolute misery. As he strode toward the shower rooms with the sole intent of washing up before leaving, a voice called out to him.

“Mr. So.”

“Director.”

It was Director Lee Beom-hee, casually lugging a heavy portable shockwave therapy machine as effortlessly as if it were a box of snacks.

“Honestly, you’re truly gifted at creating unnecessary distance. Who’s even looking? Just call me by my name. What’s with the ‘Director’ crap? It makes my skin crawl,” Beom-hee grumbled.

Lee Beom-hee, a friend since high school, was a Dominant Alpha. People were often flabbergasted to learn that Gi-hyeon was closely associated with not one, but two incredibly rare Dominant Alphas. Regardless, since Team Leader Lim had just weaponized Gi-hyeon and Beom-hee’s friendship to mock him during the meeting, Gi-hyeon knew he had to tread carefully within the hospital walls. Ignoring her scolding, he rerouted his path and approached her.

Just as he reached out to relieve her of the heavy machine as she stepped off the elevator, he noticed someone looming directly behind her. It was Jo Yeon-oh.

The hospital elevators were evidently too small for Yeon-oh. His massive frame made the spacious, ten-person carriage look entirely cramped. Gi-hyeon idly wondered if the man’s head would scrape the doorframe, and sure enough, the Alpha had to slightly duck to exit.

Throwing a brief glance his way, Gi-hyeon addressed Beom-hee first. “I wasn’t aware you’d be returning today. I thought the tournament was still ongoing.”

“Ah, I went to the tournament and bumped into Chairman Jo in the gallery. His foundation is the sponsor, after all.” Beom-hee shook her head, turning back to glare at Yeon-oh. Then, in a tone dripping with sheer disbelief, she began snitching to Gi-hyeon, even sprinkling in uncharacteristic honorifics for dramatic effect.

“Mr. So, are you aware? This magnificent son of a bitch standing before you just picked a massive fight with our beloved Pro.”

At her words, Gi-hyeon shifted his gaze to Yeon-oh. “Did you beat someone up again?”

“Beat who up, fuck.” Yeon-oh scowled, aggressively expressing his annoyance at Gi-hyeon bringing up ancient history. While Gi-hyeon quietly observed the irritated Alpha, Beom-hee eagerly stepped in to correct the assumption.

“You know that one Pro,” she supplied.

The moment that specific title left her lips, Gi-hyeon nodded in perfect understanding. That particular “Pro” was notoriously famous for his utterly garbage personality.

Has he been limping on that leg since birth? Hey, that’s bad luck, tell them to send someone else instead of you. Fuck, what kind of hospital hires a cripple?