As soon as Min Hyun left the room, he sank into his chair, running both hands through his hair. The weight of relief didn't last long — the reality hit fast.
"He's coming tonight," he muttered under his breath. "To see Jihoon. The nonexistent patient Jihoon."
He stared blankly at the stack of files on his desk. "How on earth am I supposed to create a dying man by sunset?"
Then, suddenly — a spark. He snapped his fingers. "Wait... Yura!"
He jumped up from his chair, pacing. "Yura still works at that small clinic near Jongno... She owes me. Perfect. I just need a bed, a nurse's uniform, some wires—okay, maybe not the wires—but something!"
Just then, his colleague, Daeho, peeked in. "Hey, Min Hyun, the supervisor's asking for the report on client follow-ups."
Min Hyun froze. "Tell him... tell him I'm in the archives."
"The archives?" Daeho frowned. "That's in the basement. Why?"
"Exactly," Min Hyun said quickly, lowering his voice. "No one goes there. If anyone asks, I've been there all morning. Please. You'll save my life."
Daeho raised an eyebrow. "This another one of your 'life or death' excuses?"
"This time it's actually both."
Daeho sighed, waving him off. "You owe me dinner."
"Two dinners!" Min Hyun whispered, already half out the door.
By lunchtime, he was sprinting across the street, dodging office workers and street vendors, tie flapping in the wind. The small clinic came into view — a faded sign, glass door, the faint hum of a ceiling fan visible through the window.
Min Hyun burst into the clinic like a man possessed, tie flapping and briefcase swinging.
"Yura! Yura! Please! You have to help me!"
Yura looked up from her clipboard, deadpan. "Min Hyun? "
"Only you can save mee now from this death situation!" he shouted, hands clasped together like a monk begging for enlightenment. "Jihoon! Food poisoning! Mr. Kang! He's coming tonight to check if he's alive!"
Yura leaned back in her chair. "Uh-huh. And you need me to what? Stage a hospital bed in your living room?"
"Close! Close! Not in my living room — in your clinic! Just a bed, some charts, maybe one dangling IV—nothing fancy! Oh, and I'll bring ramen! Ramen! Homemade!"
She raised an eyebrow. "Ramen? That's your bribe?"
"I'll make it extra spicy! With eggs! And kimchi! You owe me, remember? My heroic brake-fixing skills two years ago!"
"Two years ago? Min Hyun... that's ancient history!"
"History is now, Yura! This is about survival! Life! Honor! Karma! And debt collection!"
Yura groaned, head in hands. "You are absolutely impossible. Why do I even know you?"
"Because I'm your favorite client!" he said, bowing so low he nearly fell over. "Favorite! Loyal! Desperate! And if you don't help, my boss finds out Jihoon isn't sick... and I die. And my karma dies. Please!"
She lifted her head slowly, glaring. "You've got five minutes to convince me to break the law."
Min Hyun pouted dramatically. "Only five? That's not nearly enough time to explain my tragic, desperate life story!"
Yura groaned loudly. "Fine. Fine! But only at nine. That's when the shift changes settle and most of the staff are gone. Quiet. No doctors or inspectors poking around. I don't want to hear any whining if it goes wrong. I'll set up a bed, mark something vague as 'observation,' and you two can play the sick duo. But you owe me physical labor — moving boxes at my aunt's place this weekend. No complaints. And ramen. Hot, homemade."
Min Hyun jumped in place like a man who'd just won the lottery. "Seven! Perfect! Thank you, thank you, thank you! You are the goddess of life and healthcare and brilliant timing!"
She crossed her arms. "Goddess of life and healthcare, huh? Don't push it. And you owe me. Boxes. At my aunt's place. You carry them. No excuses. And ramen better be hot, fresh, and spicy."
"Anything! I'll even do laundry for a month!"
Yura shook her head, laughing. "Go. Run along. And Min Hyun?"
"Anything!"
"Don't screw it up. Or I swear, I'm changing the time to midnight just to mess with you."
"Deal!" he shouted, bolting toward the door like a man who had just escaped death... and immediately tripped on the threshold.
Jihoon strolled into the clinic, crunching on a pack of chips like he had no care in the world.
"Uh... Min Hyun?" he said, crumbs falling onto the floor. "Why am I here? And... why do I look like I'm in a hospital gown?"
Min Hyun's face went pale. "Chips?! Are you seriously eating right now? Do you even know what's happening?!"
Jihoon tilted his head innocently. "Not really. You just dragged me out. Said it was urgent. I'm hungry, okay?"
Min Hyun grabbed him by the shoulders, nearly shaking him. "Listen carefully! Mr. Kang thinks you're seriously ill. Food poisoning. If he sees you munching like this, we're finished. Completely. Dead."
Jihoon blinked. "Food... poisoning? Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I just found out you're eating chips while supposed to be dying!" Min Hyun groaned. "We need to make you look sick—immediately!"
Yura leaned on the counter, deadpan. "This is absurd. But fine. I've made a food poisoning history chart: timeline, symptom severity, even vomiting frequency. Professional stuff."
Jihoon's jaw dropped. "Chart? You... charted my fake illness?"
Min Hyun ignored him, grabbed a pale makeup kit, dabbing it on Jihoon's face. "Sunken eyes! Pale cheeks! Look like you're losing the will to live! No smiling!"
Jihoon muttered, already wobbling. "I feel dizzy...just by looking at the mirror."
"Perfect," Min Hyun said, eyes wide. "Now we spin you in circles. One, two, three... dizzy! Dizziness plus pale face equals realistic food poisoning. Quick!"
Before Jihoon could protest further, Min Hyun lunged, grabbed him firmly, and started spinning him in a circle.
"Min Hyun! Stop! I hate this! I can't—" Jihoon screamed, arms flailing, chips flying everywhere.
"Hold still! You're dying! Think about your life!" Min Hyun yelled, spinning him faster.
Jihoon's legs buckled. Min Hyun's footing slipped. Crash! Both of them tumbled to the floor in a tangled heap, Jihoon groaning and Min Hyun groaning, limbs sticking out like a pair of broken puppets.
Yura, clutching her clipboard, burst out laughing. She doubled over, tears streaming. "Oh my god! You two! I can't... stop laughing! This is the best thing I've ever seen!"
Jihoon rolled onto his side, dizzy, chips scattered around him. "I... I'm... dying... of embarrassment now..."
Min Hyun tried to disentangle himself, gritting his teeth. "Keep... acting... sick! One hour... until Mr. Kang arrives... maintain... the act..."
Yura wiped her eyes, still giggling. "You look like a tragic anime character spinning into your doom. This is highly realistic."
Jihoon groaned, spinning his head slightly even on the floor. "I hate my life... but... I... look... sick, right?"
By the time Min Hyun reached his office, his nerves were already wearing thin. He tried to look busy—papers scattered on the desk, computer humming—but his brain was stuck on one thought: Jihoon better still look half-dead.
When Mr. Kang finally appeared at his door, Min Hyun straightened so quickly he nearly sent his pen holder flying.
"Ah—Mr. Kang, sir!" he said, forcing a calm smile. "I'm so sorry I couldn't submit the follow-up earlier. I've been dealing with… a bit of a situation."
Mr. Kang frowned lightly. "Situation? That's not any concern right now. I told you this morning that I would be investigating your missing reason."
"Yes, sir. A close friend of mine—Jihoon—he's been really ill since the weekend. Food poisoning. I had to stay nearby to make sure he didn't get worse."
"Food poisoning?" Mr. Kang repeated, skeptical. "And you've been tending to him yourself?"
Min Hyun nodded earnestly. "Yes, sir. His parents are out of town for a conference. I couldn't leave him alone. He's admitted in a small clinic near Jongno—the nurse there is an acquaintance, she's been monitoring him professionally."
Mr. Kang studied him for a moment, eyes sharp as if weighing every word. Then, finally, he said, "Very well. Let's go see him. If your friend's truly that unwell, it's only proper to check."
Min Hyun swallowed hard. "Of course, sir. Right this way."
They arrived at the clinic twenty minutes later. The place was modest—clean but old-fashioned, the faint smell of antiseptic mixing with green-tea air freshener. A slow ceiling fan turned lazily overhead.
Yura spotted them the second they stepped in. She adjusted her white coat, instantly shifting into her "nurse mode."
"Good evening," she greeted politely. "You must be Mr. Kang?"
"Yes," he replied, offering a brief nod. "And you are…?"
"Yura, attending nurse. I've been looking after the patient—Mr. Jihoon—for the past few days. Min Hyun ki informed me about your coming."
Her tone was crisp, her professionalism effortless. Even Min Hyun felt oddly proud—and terrified—watching her act.
"This way, please," Yura said, leading them to the small room.
Jihoon was lying there, propped up against two pillows, pale as paper but neatly composed. A blanket covered him to the chest, and an IV line ran into his arm. He blinked drowsily when they entered.
"Jihoon," Min Hyun said softly, as if greeting a delicate patient. "This is Mr. Kang—my higher up from work. He came to check on you."
Jihoon gave a weak nod. "O-oh… hello, sir." His voice came out low and strained, just hoarse enough to sound real. "Sorry for the trouble. I wasn't expecting visitors."
Mr. Kang's brow softened slightly. "It's alright. You look quite unwell."
"Yes, sir," Jihoon murmured, lowering his gaze. "It was my fault. I… might have gone overboard during the weekend. Too many different foods. I tried grilled oysters, spicy rice cakes, something with octopus, and then… bad decision."
He coughed lightly into his hand—perfectly timed.
Mr. Kang grimaced in sympathy. "I see. Food poisoning from mixed street foods. Common, but unfortunate."
"Yes, sir," Yura said smoothly, stepping forward with her clipboard. "He was admitted three days ago with severe nausea and dehydration. The first two days were rough, but he's been stable since last night. No vomiting, normal temperature, still fatigued. We're keeping him on rehydration fluids and a mild diet."
Mr. Kang nodded, clearly impressed by her tone. "So he's recovering well?"
"Yes, sir," she continued. "He just needs rest. We'll discharge him tomorrow if he keeps tolerating food."
Jihoon offered a faint smile. "She's been very kind, sir. And Min Hyun's been… uh… bringing me porridge. Every day."
Mr. Kang turned toward Min Hyun. "Ah, so you've been quite the caretaker."
Min Hyun rubbed the back of his neck modestly. "Just trying to help, sir. He's a friend since school. Couldn't let him manage alone while his parents were away."
"That's commendable," Mr. Kang said. He stepped closer to the bed, examining Jihoon's face briefly. "You really do look like you've had a rough few days. Rest properly before you move around."
"Thank you, sir," Jihoon murmured weakly.
Yura flipped a page on her clipboard. "He'll need light meals only—plain rice, soup, electrolytes. And absolutely no spicy food."
Mr. Kang gave a small approving nod. "Good care. It's reassuring to see such thoroughness, Nurse Yura."
"Just doing my job, sir," she said with a small, polite bow.
Satisfied, Mr. Kang turned back to Min Hyun. "I'm glad you informed me, Min Hyun. Take the evening off. Your priorities were right—health comes first. I'll expect your reports once everything's back to normal."
Relief surged through Min Hyun so strong he nearly bowed twice. "Thank you, sir. I truly appreciate your understanding."
"Get some rest," Mr. Kang said, heading for the door. "And take care of your friend."
Once the sound of his footsteps faded down the hallway, Min Hyun exhaled hard and dropped onto the nearest chair.
Yura finally let out the laugh she'd been holding in. "That man asked more follow-up questions than a medical board exam. My pulse went up twice."
Jihoon sat up slowly, pulling the IV needle out with care. "Did… did we just pass that?"
"You were disturbingly convincing," Yura said. "Especially that little regret monologue about octopus and rice cakes."
Min Hyun pointed at him. "If acting doesn't work out, you could sell guilt speeches for a living."
Jihoon smirked weakly. "As long as I never have to eat street food again."
Yura folded her arms, grinning. "Alright, gentlemen. Drama over. You owe me ramen and manual labor. Tomorrow morning. No pretending to be sick this time."
Min Hyun groaned, slumping forward. "I just survived my own funeral, and now I'm sentenced to yard work."
Jihoon sighed dramatically. "We suffer in silence… heroes unsung."
Yura rolled her eyes, heading for the door. "Heroes who can carry boxes."
And as the clinic lights dimmed behind her, Min Hyun leaned back, grinning faintly."At least we fooled him."
Jihoon smirked. "Yeah… and for once, without spinning."
Min Hyun's friend isn't sick—but can they fool Mr. Kang, or does he have an entirely different reason for checking on them?