You Promised Me, Mr. Lee San-ha - Chapter 117



Only Noblemtl

Episode 117: The Boy Behind the Door (2)

Team leader Yoon Yeo-gam was out on site to cover the story.

To be exact, it seems to be on the way to the scene.

Originally, I should have arrived at the scene by now… … .

‘It looks like something happened.’

I listened quietly.

Yoon Yeo-gam was arguing with the person who caused the accident while the phone was on.

[No, you came in after changing lanes 2-3?! Huh?! You didn’t even turn on your signal and came in sideways, how could I… … What did you say? Stop swearing! Do you think you’re acting like this because you don’t know how to swear at me? … … Man, this guy is really crazy. Hello? Sanha! Are you listening?]

“Yes. I think I know the details of the incident and the current situation.”

[I also want to file an insurance claim and end this if possible, but this guy really seems crazy. He wants to fight even after seeing my size. Huh? Did you just hit me? Huh-]

How dare you attack a direct descendant of Ungnyeo who is of a similar level to Kim Tae-kyung.

This person must have nine lives.

[This kid is kicking my ass right now, but I don’t think I can ignore him and drive him all the way to the hospital. The road is shit and I hit a bump, so it’s going to take a while for a tow truck to come.]

“Thank you for your hard work.”

[I’m sorry, but if I delay any longer, I don’t think I’ll be able to get this article. I’ll send you the information, so could you go?]

From the moment I got the call, I knew this was going to happen.

Team leader Yoon Yeo-gam is a person who always completes the work assigned to her.

For someone like that to call at this hour means that the situation is difficult.

I generously accepted his request.

“Isn’t that why you’re on duty?”

[love you!]

I hung up the phone and grabbed my coat.

Of course, I didn’t forget to receive the materials sent by Team Leader Yoon Yeo-gam.

I finally finish preparing for the interview by unplugging my laptop and stuffing it into my bag.

All I had to do was go out and take a taxi.

If Hong Jeong-hwa hadn’t blocked it.

“Where are you running off to again?”

“It’s not like I want to go, though.”

Hong Jeong-hwa leans toward me with her arms crossed.

A sweet perfume scent wafted faintly.

“Is it that difficult to answer my question?”

Her long eyebrows were trembling thinly.

“That’s not it… … .”

I put my hand on my chin.

Christmas Eve marks the debut date of Project 108’s event group ‘Octavia’.

Whether it was because of work or because of loyalty to Bae Eun-ji, there was a high possibility that I would have to go cover Octavia’s debut.

‘What should I say about this?’

In the end, I had no choice but to tell an unwilling lie.

“Well, looking at the calendar, I’m on duty on the 24th. Ha, what a shame.”

Hong Jeong-hwa got angry as if she couldn’t understand.

“What?! Isn’t that too much? Do you really have to be on duty until Christmas Eve?”

“Since it’s a special year-end event, there are a lot of programs and such. We need people to work at night.”

“Then, there, then… … That’s right! Can’t you just switch with anyone? There are a lot of seniors on your team who are dying to see you.”

“Youngest? On Christmas Eve? Asking your seniors to switch shifts?”

“Ugh.”

Hong Jeong-hwa touched her forehead.

A deep sigh came from her lungs and shook the hem of my clothes.

“Haaaaaah… … . This damn company. I should set it on fire or something.”

She said, resting her chin on one arm.

“I can’t help it. I’ll ask to be put on duty on the 24th, so let’s work overtime together.”

… … Since it has come to this, I must do whatever it takes to be on duty on the 24th.

Hong Jeong-hwa followed me to the elevator.

“So, where are you going for reporting now?”

“I couldn’t look closely because I was busy, but it’s called Gangnam Maria Hospital.”

Hong Jeong-hwa’s face darkens.

She offered some comforting words.

“You’ve worked hard… … . Cheer up.”

“Huh? Why are you so gloomy all of a sudden?”

“Haven’t you ever covered a hospital?”

When I nodded, Hong Jeong-hwa continued speaking with a slightly worried expression.

“Would you report a celebrity who went to the hospital for something as trivial as a paper cut or a sore throat?”

“ah…….”

I understood it right away.

A tip means it’s newsworthy.

It is highly likely that at least a moderate to severe accident occurred.

Hong Jeong-hwa continued to share her experiences.

“Last year, that Park Tae-gyun hitter, his car overturned and he was immediately taken to the funeral home, where his bereaved family… … No. I’m sorry, I made you feel uncomfortable while I was out covering the story. I hope it won’t be to that extent this time.”

She continued as she pushed me into the elevator.

“Take care and have a safe trip. I will protect the company.”

The moment the door is about to close, something flies in through the crack in the door.

It was the energy drink that Hong Jeong-hwa had been trying to give me earlier.

I accepted the energy drink.

“Thank you always.”

The elevator doors close.

I couldn’t tell if she heard me or not.

* * *

I quickly caught a taxi and went to Gangnam Maria Hospital.

It was Friday evening so there was some traffic, but we arrived faster than expected.

After getting out of the taxi, I ran straight to the intensive care unit in the main building.

Friday evening, when most doctors and nurses have already left work.

The lobby had a strangely eerie and dark feeling.

I got on the elevator and pressed F.

[Floor F… … Intensive Care Unit]

My heart became heavy when I saw the words ‘intensive care unit’.

I understand that the reason intensive care units are usually placed on the lowest floor of the wards is to allow patients to receive treatment as quickly as possible.

Because there are more critically ill patients than in general wards.

Ding!

The elevator door opened with a beeping sound like an oven was turning on.

As soon as I turned right at the central fork, I heard someone’s screaming.

“Get out of here! Are you people?!”

I could tell at that moment.

Why was Hong Jeong-hwa looking at me with such compassionate eyes?

And what else was she worried about?

There was a long line of reporters in front of us.

“What caused this accident?”

“What is your current condition, actor? Are you conscious?”

“How are you feeling right now?”

Microphones and recorders are pointed like spearheads at the victims’ families.

The families of the patients who were cornered at the end of the pier spoke with their chests pounding.

“Hey you guys. What are you doing with the camera while someone is in such a state? Can you do that when your family is in danger? Huh?!”

“Please step back. How many times do I have to tell you to take it easy? We don’t know anything else!”

“You little shits! Ahahahaha! Put the mic away and get out!”

The sound of a broken heart.

The sound of the dam of sorrow overflowing.

It was a voice too painful to listen to with a clear mind.

The reporters standing in front of him also have expressions that seem to be in pain.

There is no reporter who came here ‘because he wanted to’.

Because the company pushed me.

Because I don’t want to be criticized for the number of views.

If you don’t do this, the opportunity will fly away.

Because it is a source that the public would be interested in.

Because I’m going to be grinding away at my desk for days on end.

“… … .”

A wave of overwhelming skepticism took my breath away.

After taking a quick breath, this thought occurred to me.

‘Is this right?’

Is it really necessary to do it this way?

Is it okay to hurt others under the pretext of reporting and seeking the truth?

To be honest… … entertainment articles fail to sound the social alarm.

Of course, it is true that the number of views is overwhelmingly higher than that of general social and economic articles.

Because it’s much more fun that way.

News about the performance.

Photos from the performance venue.

A showcase where only reporters are invited.

Someone’s scandal, marriage, affair, divorce.

Plagiarism allegations, drug charges, criminal convictions, good deeds.

Because it’s more fun than anything else.

Because whether celebrities are good at something or not, it becomes something enjoyable in itself.

It is all just consumed as entertainment.

‘Is this… … the limit of an entertainment reporter?’

Entertainment reporters can also convey the truth.

But that’s it.

It fails to be a voice for the people.

You can’t point your pen at corrupt power.

We cannot criticize the problems of a corrupt society.

“… … .”

Because of my skepticism about my job as an entertainment reporter, I can’t move my feet easily.

Shouts, almost like screams, could still be heard from outside the intensive care unit door.

“Go away, please! Do I, do we, look like we have the time to do interviews and stuff right now? Yes?!”

It seems that the reporters are having a hard time pressing them any further, so they are just standing there in silence, keeping their distance.

Everyone sat down in their seats or on chairs in the waiting room, typing away at their keyboards.

There is no significant harvest at the moment.

It seems like they’re writing ‘circumstantial articles’ with no real content.

This is how a circumstantial article is written.

Great actress Lee Mi-eun… … admitted to intensive care unit

[TLT Times=Reporter Lee San-ha] Actress Lee Mi-eun, who has been dominating the small screen since the 90s, is currently in critical condition.

The hospital is not providing a detailed cause.

She is currently hospitalized in the intensive care unit of Gangnam Maria Hospital.

It was an article that even people who weren’t there could easily write.

It was a very simple article that only said that Ms. Im Eun-eun was hospitalized, but there was nothing I could do.

We have to write articles like this so that someone can look it up and money can come into the company.

‘The conscience of the press should not be obscured by money, but the press needs money to run.’

This is reality.

I wrote a brief report on the situation and checked out articles from other media outlets one by one.

[The once-great star Lee Mi-eun… … It is believed that she is suffering from depression due to her repeated failed comebacks… … ]

[Lee Mi-eun, suspected to be due to discord with her husband… … ended in attempted suicide.]

[The reason she made that extreme choice might have been because she was diagnosed with an incurable disease, just like in the dramas that came out in the past… … .]

All kinds of speculation and provocative phrases rise to the top.

This is clearly an article from among the reporters here.

‘That’s why you get treated so badly.’

I looked around with unbearable disgust, but… … I couldn’t figure out who wrote such an article.

If it were up to me, I would go to each and every one of them, check their press IDs, and question them.

Is this an article?

Are you a journalist?

… … But it would just be meaningless empty noise anyway.

To them too.

To me too.

Feeling suffocated, I walked down the hallway.

As I moved to the quiet waiting room, I felt less depressed.

I leaned against the window and sighed.

“Phew… … .”

Suddenly, I saw a woman crouching in the corner of the waiting room.

She was definitely someone I knew.

Small stature, a pitiful body that looks like it could break if hit, and skin as white as porcelain.

“… … Ahn Hee-yeon?”

At my voice, she, who had been shedding tears on the floor, raises her head.

“S, Sanha… … ? Sanha… … .”

An Hee-yeon came to me, sobbing, as if she had lost her mind.

A staggering gait.

It’s a look that is so messed up that it’s unimaginable if you look at her normally.

An Hee-yeon leaned against me and hugged me as if she was going to collapse.

I patted her back and asked.

“What’s going on? Hee-yeon, why are you here?”

An Hee-yeon still seemed to have not come to her senses.

My collar was soaked with Ahn Hee-yeon’s tears.

Finally, she raised her head from my arms.

“Immi… … Our, uh, mom… … .”