The medical center's interior was quieter than the bustle outside had suggested, though quiet wasn't quite the right word for it. Tense fit better. A cramped waiting room greeted them just past the entrance, mismatched chairs lined along salvaged walls, a couple of low tables scattered with supplies that looked more improvised than official, bandages rolled from cut fabric, jars of something herbal that probably passed for antiseptic out here.
A handful of Yewon's people already occupied the space, most of them worse off than Jin's group by a fair margin. A man with a crudely splinted arm sat hunched near the far wall, jaw tight against whatever pain he was working through in silence. Two others leaned against each other on a bench, one pressing a blood-soaked cloth to a gash along his hairline, the other keeping watch on the door like he expected trouble to walk through it any second.
