Golden Time

A white space with an unknowable end.

It was all that he could see. No, in the distance, he seemed to see a certain object that he could not quite discern.

He slowly moved to that place.

How far did he walk?

Gradually the identity of that object came into his vision.

A man wearing a green gown and a mask.

It was surely a doctor in a surgical suit.

The man's identity was all the more clear because everything else was all white.

There was another man in front of him, lying flat on a wire rack that could be used in the kitchen of a restaurant.

A doctor, who had been immersed in thinking over something, was looking down on that man, when his head turned to one side.

At that moment, the gazes of the student and the doctor watching that man's condition were entangled in the air.

Unlike the student who stepped back flinchingly, the doctor's eyes were filled with wrinkles. He was smiling. He lifted his hand slowly, making some gestures as if he were beckoning the student, and whenever he did so, there was something shining in his hand.

It was none other than a scalpel used to incise a patient's abdomen.

That man lying on the cold wire rack.

His stomach, bulging like a balloon, beating as if it were like a heart.

"An aortic aneurysm."

As always, the man wearing a mask spoke.

The aorta plays a role in distributing blood pumped by the heart into all parts of the body. The aorta originates from the left ventricle of the heart, 2 or 3 cm in diameter, and ends at both sides of the buttocks. Simple and uncomplicated, it is called the human highway.

The masked man stared at the student, touching the man's swollen abdomen with a scalpel's edge.

"What the hell is wrong here?" muttered the student who had been pondering over something.

"Abdominal aortic aneurysm."

The masked man's eyes looked satisfactorily, asking, "Why did it swell up like this?"

"I can figure out the details if I incise the abdomen, but I think the aorta seems to have been enlarged between the thoracic diaphragm and the pelvic diaphragm," said the student.

The smile reflected in the masked man's eyes became more noticeable, but a hard voice came out of his mouth, "So, is he going to live or die?"

"It's an emergency situation. I have to open up his abdomen, remove the enlarged parts, and connect the artificial blood vessels," said the student.

"Why?" asked the masked man.

"Otherwise the aorta may burst and he may die shortly after. Medication treatment is impossible," the student replied.

"Why don't you quickly open it up?" questioned the masked man.

Nodding his head, the student held out his hand in the air.

"Scalpel."

No sooner did he say that than a nurse appeared instantly, handing a scalpel to the student's hand. It was always like this.

Right before the surgery, the assistants were already at the operating room without a sound. Just like ghosts. It was exactly the 27th surgery today

"I will open it up," said the student.

The assistants moved briskly in step with the student' hands, and the masked man watched quietly with his arms folded.

Since then, the student performed numerous surgeries. Actually, too many for him to count.

And today, he could hear some strange words from the masked man.

"This time, it is your turn."

'What did he mean by that?'

The assistants who appeared like ghosts grabbed the student firmly, and they forcibly laid him down on a wire rack. He struggled to get out of it but could not.

Shackles that could be used for mental patients were placed on his ankles and arms, restraining his movement.

"He has to go back now."

Hearing the masked man's words, the student moved his head to one side.

Weeeeing… The sharp cog in the masked man's hand turned fiercely. He was clearly intending to open the student's brain. The moment the student, with his eyes opened in strain, was about to open his mouth, the masked man snapped his fingers.

Snap!