"Mm... I must've been out of my mind last night to think of changing the startup command to this."
"Lincoln's a bighead!"
As Luca's words fell, the red storage case in front of them rapidly unfolded.
Baymax's body inflated upright, then he took small steps over to Luca.
"I am Baymax, your personal healthcare companion." (●-●)
"Mm-hmm, I know. Scan her condition for me." Luca pointed toward Gina, who was lying in the hospital bed.
The green light in Baymax's eyes swept rapidly over Gina's body, and he gave his assessment.
"The target's vital signs are stable. Some neural signals are blocked, and cocooning proteins are wrapped around the neural synapses. I recommend..."
Baymax repeated the assessment he had given the night before. As Luca listened, he asked, "Based on what you said earlier, can targeted medication treat her?"
"The target's condition is still in its early stages. With more than twelve weeks of continuous treatment with targeted medication, the probability of successful treatment is 87.6%," Baymax replied.
Shamira's face lit up at that. The doctor had just brought them good news, and now the robot the young master had built was also saying there was a high chance of treatment.
"It looks like Madam really does have a chance of waking up."
But unlike Shamira, Luca furrowed his brow slightly.
"Twelve weeks? So, three months? And that's not counting the time it'll take to develop the medication. It could easily be six months or even a year before she wakes up."
"Baymax, could her condition worsen while it persists?" Luca pressed.
"According to the database, Neural Synapse Cocooning Syndrome causes the cocooning proteins to slowly thicken over time. As long as the patient receives routine care and muscle and nerve stimulation exercises, her vital signs will not be affected. However, as the cocooning proteins continue to thicken, targeted medication will have a harder time breaking them down, slowing the patient's recovery."
"I have a feeling we can't rely on the expert panel. It looks like we need to find a biopharmaceutical lab to work with as soon as possible."
With worry in her eyes, Shamira watched as Luca looked up at her, his expression serious.
"Aunt Shamira, please contact the lawyers and the family trust. I need to figure out how much of my assets I can access right now."
Yes, even though it was his family's money, Luca couldn't simply spend it whenever he wanted.
Hiring a lab to develop medication for him—even with the drug formulation data—would probably cost a fortune.
At Luca's age, accessing a substantial amount of money or selling funds and stocks held in his parents' names required going through the proper procedures.
Fortunately, the money would be spent on treating his mother, Gina. With that justification, the legal process would be much simpler.
After discussing the assets, Luca added, "Also, I'd appreciate it if you could ask around and find out who sponsored and proposed the hospital's expert panel."
From Luca's perspective, even his family's connections hadn't been enough to persuade Strange to diagnose his mother.
Now, someone had not only brought Strange in, but had also assembled a hospital expert panel and come up with something like "experimental treatment." Whoever was behind this clearly had considerable influence.
Perhaps they were an important figure whose family had someone suffering from a similar condition.
If so, there might be another way to get the drug formulation in his hands developed as quickly as possible.
Shamira nodded and made a note of each task.
"Maybe I can bring Mother home for care in a while," Luca thought.
This condition was similar to being in a vegetative state. It wouldn't suddenly worsen, nor could it be cured simply by resting.
He had kept his mother, Gina, in the hospital mainly because the medical staff there were more qualified, and because he still held out some hope that she could be treated.
Now they had a direction for treatment, and Baymax himself was the best qualified medical caregiver.
Taking Gina home would also make it much easier to look after her.
But they would have to wait until Luca had sorted out the mess he was dealing with first.
After staying in the hospital room for another two hours, Luca and Shamira got up to leave.
According to Shamira, the members of the tactical team would likely arrive sometime that evening, and Luca naturally didn't want to meet them at the hospital.
Besides, the 3D printing at home should be almost finished by now.
Luca had originally thought he could take the opportunity to walk around a nearby mall and see if he could find a "Core Component."
But after Shamira strongly urged him not to, he decided to give up on the idea for now.
After all, he still had a [Sweet Captive] "in his hands" that he hadn't synthesized yet. There was no need to rush to get another component.
On the way back.
Shamira's phone suddenly rang while she was driving. After a brief call, she kept her eyes on the road and continued driving steadily, but her voice was grave as she reported to Luca.
"Young master, there's news about Dragan. You asked me to hire people to investigate him earlier."
At that, Luca, who had been resting with his eyes closed, sat up straight and waited quietly for Shamira to continue.
"We haven't found Dragan yet, but we've been able to trace his movements over the past two years."
"Two years ago..."
As Shamira spoke at an unhurried pace, Luca pieced together the general picture.
After Gina kicked Dragan out of the company two years ago, he had received a large sum of money as a "settlement" from her.
Rather than staying in New York, he took the money and went off to "live it up."
He had also invested in a few small companies during that time, hoping to turn things around and rub his success in his sister's face. But after several failed investments, Dragan finally gave up on that unrealistic idea.
About a year ago, thanks to his investment experience and the large amount of cash he had left, Dragan became a well-known high roller in Las Vegas.
But the money he had was only a finite resource.
After a stretch of partying and indulgence, Dragan had been completely drained by Las Vegas, a bottomless pit that devoured fortunes. Left with no choice, he used his "good" reputation to keep swindling people and taking out loans.
Then, some time ago, he had nearly been hunted down and buried alive. But suddenly, he paid off the debts he owed to the most powerful groups and disappeared from Las Vegas.
It seemed likely that the group that had arranged for several gunmen to protect Dragan had paid off his debts for him—or, rather, transferred those debts into their own hands.
The reason they had been able to investigate the matter so thoroughly was that quite a few individuals who had lent him money still hadn't been repaid.
Even now, plenty of people in Las Vegas who didn't know what was going on were still cursing him out and searching for him.
"So we still can't be sure who's really pulling the strings behind this?"
"That's right. But, young master, the private investigator also found out something else. Of the three vehicles that attacked us that day, both of the large trucks belonged to a shell company called United Construction!"
Before you continue