Lin Qi raised his brows slightly. "I don't know what you're talking about. Do the Charlie Siblings have some treasure?"
Mr. Wickliff hurriedly brought over an oxygen mask and greedily took several breaths. The feeling of weakness in his body eased somewhat.
Heart failure actually caused many problems. Sometimes he had difficulty breathing and felt tightness in his chest. Oxygen had become extremely important to his life.
A few months ago, his condition had not yet progressed this far. But in just those few months, it had deteriorated rapidly.
The medical group and he had established a private medical research laboratory dedicated to researching human organ transplants.
Of course, neither the Federation's medical institutions nor Mr. Wickliff himself would admit that they had ever established such a research institute.
Through various means, they had already conducted at least twenty heart transplant experiments. So far, the longest anyone had survived was only about a week.
It seemed that... these studies could not do much to help Mr. Wickliff survive. In reality, that was not the case.
The medical group had already begun targeted research into a Special Medicine that could effectively reduce rejection reactions and lower their likelihood of occurring.
They had also mastered a method of reactivating the heart, as well as a way to maintain a patient's vital signs while removing the heart.
These could all be called tremendous scientific advances, but such achievements could not be made public at will, because they had all been built on trampling over the lives of other human beings!
Some indigenous people, some members of the Nagaril People—there were always people who made a living by selling their consciences and morals. In their eyes, human beings themselves were commodities, and expensive ones at that.
If they were commodities, why couldn't they be