Heirs of the Scapel — Kdrama Series Episode Three

EPISODE THREE — The SURGEON

(Heirs of the Scapel Ep3)

Morning light filtered through the glass façade of Baekje Medical Center, reflecting the city’s pulse back into the building. Inside, the air smelled faintly of disinfectant and tension—the kind that only lived in hospitals where lives were constantly being handed to fate.

Shin Ha-rin stood at the entrance, her breath catching at the sight before her. Doctors in crisp white coats passed briskly, nurses hurried with charts, and monitors beeped rhythmically like a heartbeat.

This was the world she once belonged to.

And the world she was sneaking back into… with a fake identity.

Her fingers tightened on the forged certificate inside her bag.

Kang Do-hun had made sure it looked perfect.

She could almost hear his voice:

“Neo-eun nae soniya, Ha-rin. Gieokhae.”

(너는 내 손이야, 하린. 기억해.)

You are my hands, Ha-rin. Remember that.

She swallowed hard and stepped inside.

As Ha-rin made her way toward the conference hallway, someone exited a room and almost collided with her.

A strong hand caught her elbow.

She looked up—

and the world seemed to stop.

It was Dr. Kang Min-jae.

Tall. Sharp jaw. Eyes that held intelligence and a quiet storm beneath.

His white coat fluttered slightly as he steadied her.

“Gwaenchanayo?”

(괜찮아요?)

“Are you okay?”

Ha-rin nodded quickly, but Min-jae didn’t let go at once.

His gaze dropped to her hands—steady, delicate, surgeon’s hands.

And then something unexpected happened.

Her fingers slipped lightly across his palm as she pulled away—

a brief touch, but enough for a surgeon like him.

Min-jae’s eyes widened slightly.

“Geu son…”

(그 손…)

“Those hands…”

Ha-rin blinked. “Ne?” (Yes?)

Min-jae tilted his head, studying her with growing intrigue.

“Jom deopge bol su isseulkka?”

(좀 더럽게 볼 수 있을까?)

“May I look at them properly?”

She hesitated.

But extended her hands.

He held them gently, turning them slightly, examining.

“Callus… precision grip… tendon alignment…” he murmured to himself.

Then he looked up at her.

“Neo, uisaga majji?”

(너, 의사가 맞지?)

“You’re a surgeon, aren’t you?”

Ha-rin froze.

Her heart slammed against her ribs.

This man was too sharp.

Min-jae dropped her hands slowly, almost reluctantly.

“Ireon songaneun tto eopseo. Neomu wanbyeokhae.”

(이런 손은 또 없어. 너무 완벽해.)

“I’ve never seen hands like yours. Perfect surgeon’s hands.”

He took a step back, a faint smile forming.

“You worked here?” 

“Ye, starting today.” 

“Uri team-e deureoollae?”

(우리 팀에 들어올래?)

“Join my surgical team.”

Ha-rin’s breath caught.

A real invitation.

The type she dreamed about.

But she remembered Do-hun—the file, the deal, the chain he placed around her neck.

Her voice came out barely above a whisper.

“Mianhada. Jeoneun… tto dareun jayeog-e isseoyo.”

(미안하다. 저는… 또 다른 자리에 있어요.)

“I’m sorry. I already belong to someone else.”

Min-jae’s smile faded.

“Nugu?”

(누구?)

“To whom?”

Ha-rin lowered her gaze.

“Dr. Kang Do-hun.”

Min-jae stilled.

His eyes darkened—just slightly.

“Do-hun?”

Before she could respond, the overhead speaker called all surgeons to the introduction session.

Min-jae offered one last look—an unreadable blend of curiosity and concern.

******

The surgical conference room was filled—senior surgeons, residents, the entire operating team.

Minus one person.

Kang Do-hun.

Of course he was late.

Powerful men liked to make an entrance.

A murmur ran through the room as Ha-rin entered.

Whispers scattered like dropped needles.

“Who is she?”

“She looks young.”

“Is she the transfer?”

“She’s beautiful—must be someone’s recommendation.”

Before their curiosity grew teeth, the door swung open.

Kang Do-hun stepped in.

His sharp eyes locked instantly on Ha-rin. A silent reminder:

“Nae mikkyeo.”

(내 믿겨.)

Stay with me.

He stood before the staff.

“Oneulbuteo, shin ha-rin uisa-ga uri team-e habryeokhamnida.”

(오늘부터, 신하린 의사가 우리 팀에 합류합니다.)

“Starting today, Dr. Shin Ha-rin will join our surgical team.”

One of the senior surgeons frowned.

“Seongjeokjireul bogo wasseumnida. Jogjeong eopseo.”

(성적지를 보고 왔습니다. 적정 없어.)

“We reviewed her file. It’s… extremely impressive.”

Another whispered,

“Too impressive…”

Min-jae, sitting at the back, watched her quietly.

His eyes kept returning to her hands.

She was going to work for his brother and work against him.

But still, he found himself wanting to trust her.

Later, the board of directors gathered around a long table.

Ha-rin stood beside Do-hun as Chairman Moon reviewed the documents.

Her fake certification lay open on the desk.

Min-jae stood across the room, arms crossed, gaze sharp.

Chairman Moon closed the folder.

“Jeon-won seung-in. Sin ha-rin uisa-ui jeon-ggeom-eun yuhohamyeonseo bagudoejibnida.”

(전원 승인. 신하린 의사의 전근은 유효하면서 확정됩니다.)

“Approved. Dr. Shin Ha-rin’s transfer is officially accepted.”

The gavel tapped.

Decision made.

Ha-rin felt her knees weaken with relief—and fear.

Do-hun placed a hand on her back, leaning close to whisper:

“Bogo itji? Na eopsineun neo an dwae.”

(보고 있지? 나 없이는 너 안 돼.)

See? You can’t exist here without me.

Min-jae watched that gesture closely.

The competition turned into something else:

Wariness.

Protection.

A silent interest he didn’t understand yet.

As the board members exited, Do-hun stood tall, the corner of his lips lifting in triumph.

Everything was falling into place.

He turned to Ha-rin.

“Chukahae, Ha-rin. Ijena jeonjang-i sijakdoen geoya.”

(축하해, 하린. 이제나 전쟁이 시작된 거야.)

“Congratulations, Ha-rin. Now the real battlefield begins.”

She stared at him.

Was she a surgeon…

or a puppet?

Min-jae walked past them slowly, stopping at her side.

“Naega gachi haneun geot, hanbeon deo saeng-gakhae.”

(내가 같이 하는 것, 한 번 더 생각해.)

“Think again about joining my team.”

Do-hun’s eyes snapped toward him.

But Min-jae didn’t wait for his reaction.

He walked away, coat swinging behind him with quiet confidence.

Ha-rin watched his retreating figure—

torn, 

conflicted… 

and trapped between two powerful men.