“Intern”
Just hearing the word is enough to make you feel miserable. No matter the profession, it’s an official title for the most pitiful role—basically, the lowest of the low.
“Again? Another call from Dr. Do Ha-min?”
“My point exactly! Isn’t it bad enough he’s on triple night shifts? What if Dr. Do runs away from all this!”
(Triple night shifts: Being on duty three nights in a row)
Today, as usual, the station was filled with murmurs. Whether they were worried for me or just concerned that their own workload might increase, I couldn’t tell.
I let out a long, dry sigh and, with a face as worn out as a zombie, asked:
“Is it that same person again… Adele? Or was it Ami?”
The nurses at the station nodded sympathetically at my lifeless voice and zombie-like appearance.
‘Damn it…’
I swore silently but forced a smile.
Simple reason: if you’re the lowest of the low, frowning only makes it worse.
So, as usual, I picked up the chart on the station desk and dragged my feet like the walking dead toward Room 406—the VIP room.
***
Usually, after studying like crazy for 6 years (2 years pre-med, 4 years med school), passing the national exam finally grants you the right to be an intern.
However, to gain practical experience, an intern—also known as a “glorified errand runner”—rotates through every department in large hospitals.
This week, it was psychiatry.
And I was on the verge of being patient myself.
As the lowest-ranked human in the hospital food chain, I had to do everything—write patient charts, see emergency patients, and run around changing dressings.
And yet, Room 406—our patient with schizophrenia—kept calling for me. Constantly. As if my schedule didn’t matter at all.
“Hello, how are you feeling today?”
I asked carefully, entering the room without trying to stand out.
The patient was sitting by the window, staring blankly outside.
“Doctor… have you thought about my offer?”
She called herself Adelia. Her cotton-candy pink hair and rose-colored eyes stood out.
Objectively speaking, she was quite beautiful.
Anyway, this half-foreign patient had recently started asking me the most ridiculous favor.
“Doctor, please save my father.”
I smiled politely and said something like, “Shall we bring him to the hospital or call an ambulance?”
But the problem was, this patient wasn’t rational at all.
“You’re a doctor! You can save him!”
I wanted to scream, “I’m just a rookie intern who barely got my license!”, but held it in.
Instead, like a true pushover, I smiled and tried to comfort her gently.
“We have many talented doctors here, so don’t worry. Let’s focus on your own health first…”
Her condition hadn’t improved despite being hospitalized for a long time.
Her biggest strangeness was clinging to a book, claiming she was one of its characters.
So once again, I tried to refuse her absurd request.
“Haa… I’m just a new intern. There are more qualified doctors who can help—”
“No! I believe in you!”
…Was this patient trying to recruit me as her fellow psych ward roommate?
Anger began to rise inside me. Probably because I hadn’t slept properly—my head was spinning more than usual.
My patience had run out.
Any more of this, and I’d either rip up my still-wet medical license or die from stress.
“Miss Adelia! If you keep this up, I—!”
“Then… please… read this book. That’s all I ask.”
Her hands shook as she offered me the book she always carried, like her life depended on it.
No one had ever touched it. She kept it close like it was part of her.
And now, she was handing it to me.
“…Ahem.”
I cleared my throat and looked at it closely. It was the first time I saw the book up close.
With its red cover and golden decorations, it looked expensive.
If I didn’t accept it, she clearly wouldn’t let it go. So I gave in and took it.
The moment I did, her face lit up in pure joy, something I hadn’t seen before.
“Thank you! Doctor! I’ll give you all the gratitude I have!”
It felt… strange. But hey, it was just a book.
I already had the nightmare of three consecutive night shifts. What could be worse?
Yes. That’s what I thought.
***
After my shift ended and I returned to my dorm, I opened the book the patient had given me.
Honestly, I was curious. What kind of story could she be so obsessed with?
The contents were nothing special.
A typical fantasy novel with some medical drama thrown in.
I skimmed through it without much care, but then I got curious about the ending and flipped to the back.
“Huh? A pandemic ending? That’s a bit…”
Turns out the female lead is a doctor, but not a very competent one. And a guy she rejected turns into a full-blown villain later on.
Together, they basically drag the story’s world into apocalypse mode.
But nowhere—did I find the name Adelia.
I flipped the book upside down, trying to find it.
Then I remembered something the patient kept saying: “Please save my father.”
“Doctor, my father was taken to a duke’s estate. He died because he couldn’t cure the duke’s daughter.”
Now that I thought about it, the book did have a scene where a duke executed all the doctors who failed to treat his daughter.
Was she claiming to be the daughter of one of those executed doctors?
“What kind of nonsense…”
I slammed the book shut and collapsed into bed. Reading it had only made my head hurt.
“I’ll probably see her again in 5 hours anyway.”
Thinking wouldn’t solve anything.
So I pulled the blanket over myself and tried to sleep.
But five hours later, I didn’t wake up in my hospital.
I woke up inside that damn book.
Inside the world of Patient 406.
