Faisal said.
“Dr. Kang, that was a complicated time. I was seventeen then. At the time, I was the most likely candidate among the princes.”
“What happened?”
Taeho asked carefully.
Amira looked at her brother with a tense expression.
“Ya akhi.”
“It’s all right, Amira. I trust Dr. Kang.”
Reassuring his sister, Faisal continued.
“At the time, there was competition within the royal family over the matter of succession. My royal father has four sons and one daughter by two wives. My mother bore two sons and one daughter among them, but my elder brother died in an accident twenty years ago, leaving only me and Amira.”
Faisal’s expression darkened.
“Up until then, I was the clear first in line to the throne. But after the riding accident in March, everything changed.”
Faisal smiled desolately.
Amira spoke in a trembling voice.
“I was only ten years old then, but I remember. I remember how much my brother suffered after the accident. Before it, he was the perfect crown prince candidate. Intelligent, healthy, loved by the people. But after the accident, the constant pain made it difficult for him to attend official events. And in the end…”
Her voice shook with anger.
Faisal took over from Amira.
“In the end, I gradually began to be pushed out of the running as a prince candidate. No one wants an unhealthy heir.”
Only then did Taeho understand why Amira was so sensitive about Faisal’s health. Inside the royal family, the two of them must have grown up constantly worrying over each other’s safety.
Taeho began sorting out the situation.
“Then do you perhaps believe the treatment you received at the time was deliberately intended to worsen your condition?”
“After seeing my state at the time, my mother suspected it had been someone’s intention. She tried to find evidence, but she couldn’t. No evidence could be found among the medical staff or in the medication.”
“If an artificial substance really was the cause, there will certainly be traces left.”
At Taeho’s reply, Faisal shook his head.
“Even if it’s you, Dr. Kang, you won’t be able to find evidence. My mother already tried every possible method. I also tried, visiting famous hospitals all over the world.”
“Even so, let’s try again. Do you remember specifically what painkillers or anti-inflammatory drugs you were given at the time?”
Faisal was lost in thought for a moment before opening his mouth.
“To be honest, my memories from then aren’t clear. I lost consciousness after the fall, and when I woke up, I was already in the palace infirmary.”
“You must have received emergency treatment at the scene.”
“That’s right.”
Faisal pressed a hand to his forehead and searched his memory.
“Would it be possible to obtain the list of medical staff from that time, as well as the list of drugs administered?”
“Of course.”
“Then please send those materials to me. The most important thing in Your Highness’s treatment is to determine what the substance causing the inflammation is. Once we accurately identify the causative substance, we can attempt chelation therapy or immunomodulatory treatment.”
“How long will it take?”
“It depends on the causative substance, but it may take anywhere from a few weeks to a few months.”
Amira looked worried.
“Does my brother have to stay here during that time?”
“That would be best, but we can adjust it according to His Highness’s schedule.”
Faisal thought for a moment, then spoke with a resolute expression.
“I will stay here.”
“Ya akhi?”
Amira looked startled.
“I’ve waited fifteen years. Waiting a few more months is no problem. Dr. Kang, would you prepare things so I can receive treatment here?”
“Of course. I’ll do my best.”
Taeho answered in a voice filled with certainty.
Amira looked at her brother with a complicated expression.
***
In the laboratory of the Geumsan Research Institute, Taeho and Gihwan had been clinging to the blood analysis of Prince Faisal for seventy-two hours, taking shifts of four hours each. Because of the confidentiality clause, they could not make use of many researchers, so the two of them were working themselves to the bone.
Gihwan was staring at the monitor in front of the ultra-high-resolution mass spectrometer.
“Director, look at this.”
Seong Gihwan called Taeho over in a hoarse voice.
Taeho approached Gihwan’s side. He, too, had barely slept properly over the past seventy-two hours.
“Look at this protein structure. Something’s strange. It’s a form that could never be created naturally.”
Gihwan pointed at the monitor as he spoke.
Taeho came up beside Seong Gihwan and peered at the screen. A three-dimensional molecular structure was intricately tangled there.
As if he had forgotten all his fatigue, Gihwan was excited.
“But what’s even more surprising is that this substance was designed to react only to specific immune receptors.”
“You’re right.”
“And this part here acts as a catalyst that sustains the inflammatory response.”
“This is practically on the level of a biochemical weapon. But how did other laboratories fail to discover this until now?”
When Taeho asked, Gihwan thought for a moment, then lovingly stroked the state-of-the-art analysis equipment.
“It’s thanks to this ultra-high-resolution protein structure analyzer. Heh heh heh.”
A month ago, only five units had been released, and Gihwan had begged him to buy one. Now it was proving its worth.
“Without this, we never would have found it. Previous-generation equipment couldn’t analyze molecular modifications this minute.”
A pleased smile never left Gihwan’s lips.
“In particular, this substance was made so that existing testing methods can’t distinguish it from normal proteins. Even Mayo Clinic or Johns Hopkins wouldn’t be able to find it without this equipment. On top of that, almost no laboratories would suspect and test for an artificially synthesized substance like this.”
Gihwan happily rotated the protein molecular structure this way and that with an affectionate gaze. He seemed intoxicated by the ecstasy of having discovered a new protein molecular structure.
Taeho continued examining the data, then suddenly felt a jolt. His sharp intuition had sent him a signal.
“But I feel like I’ve seen this pattern somewhere before.”
The mass food poisoning incident at the Brest International Marine Biotechnology Conference?
Taeho began opening the folder of materials he had collected during the International Marine Biotechnology Conference case.
The viral structure analysis data from that time appeared on the computer screen. Complex graphs and figures densely filled it.
“This is…”
Taeho’s eyes grew wider and wider. Similarities began to appear between the two sets of data.
Gihwan also looked back and forth between the screens and said,
“Part of the molecular structure is similar.”
“It’s more than similar. Analyze the exact similarity between these two structures.”
“Yes.”
A few minutes later, Gihwan’s mouth fell open.
“Wow, Director, you were right. The similarity between the two molecular structures is seventy-four percent. In particular, the core binding sites show an almost identical design.”
Taeho and Gihwan looked at each other.
A question suddenly arose in Taeho’s mind.
But back then, I saw the virus directly with Bio Vision. Why couldn’t I see it this time?
“Mr. Gihwan, how is the state of the virus different between then and now?”
“The situation is completely different. In Brittany, it was an acute infection. When a virus is alive and actively multiplying, it emits a unique biological energy.”
Gihwan brought up the viral footage from that time on the screen and continued.
“But this time, it’s the metabolite of a substance injected fifteen years ago. Its original form has almost entirely disappeared, and only decomposed toxins have accumulated.”
Only then did Taeho understand.
Only the resulting inflammatory response was visible; the causative substance itself was already inactive, making it difficult to detect.
If it was similar to the virus that had attacked only carriers of the DRD4-7R variant, who possessed exceptional creativity, then Prince Faisal’s virus had also been artificially created by someone.
Once his thoughts reached that point, a name surfaced.
Project Prometheus.
Just how far had they extended their reach?
He could not guess their identity or their purpose.
What could be the common point between highly creative scientists and a prince who had been on the verge of being appointed crown prince fifteen years ago?
Taeho’s mind grew complicated.
But what he had to focus on first was the treatment of his patient.
Taeho opened his mouth.
“Now that we’ve identified the cause, let’s develop a neutralizing agent.”
***
In the VIP consultation room at Geumsan Samcheok Hospital, Taeho sat in the chair across from Faisal with a thick treatment plan spread out before him.
“Rashid, based on the results of three days of detailed analysis, we have established a treatment plan.”
Faisal looked at Taeho with an expectant expression. He believed that Director Kang Taeho would give him an answer different from the ones he had heard from dozens of doctors over the past fifteen years.
“Please tell me, Director.”
“It will take approximately two weeks to develop the neutralizing agent.”
Taeho pointed to the first page of the treatment plan as he explained.
“We need to artificially synthesize a special enzyme, but it is fully possible with the equipment at our Geumsan Research Institute. In the meantime, we will carry out immunomodulatory treatment to relieve your symptoms.”
Faisal’s voice trembled slightly.
“Is treatment truly possible?”
“Yes, without question. We’ve identified the exact cause.”
Taeho answered confidently.
Faisal nodded with a satisfied expression.
“Thank you, Dr. Kang.”
Amira, who had been sitting to one side, rose and approached Taeho. Her expression, which had been filled with suspicion and wariness only a few days ago, had completely changed.
“Dr. Kang, thank you so much. And… please forgive me for how rude I’ve been.”
Tears welled in Amira’s eyes. The weight of how hard it had been to watch her brother’s suffering for fifteen years seemed to be lifting, little by little, only now.
The Desert Lioness. Just like her nickname, Flame, she was not the type to easily bow her head or apologize to others, but if someone healed her brother, she could prostrate herself on the ground in gratitude a hundred, a thousand times over.
Faisal said with a smile,
“You may not know this, Director Kang, but this is the first time my younger sister has ever bowed her head and apologized to anyone other than our royal father. If I told others, they would probably all say it was a lie. Our royal father once said he would marry Amira off if a man who could break her temper appeared…”
“Ya akhi!”
When her brother teased her, Amira’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment.
It was at that very moment.
Beep—beep—beep—
An emergency call rang through the hospital corridor.
“Code Blue! Code Blue!”
An urgent voice came through the speaker.
Taeho’s expression instantly hardened.
“I’m sorry, but an emergency patient has come in. I need to go now.”
“Wait! What do you think you’re doing?”
Amira blocked Taeho’s path with a flustered expression. Her voice rose sharply.
“You’re treating my brother right now! We’ve found hope for the first time in fifteen years, and you’re saying an ordinary person is more important?”
Amira’s face reddened as her emotions surged.
“Rashid, please wait a moment. That patient is more urgent.”
When Taeho spoke firmly, Faisal nodded.
Amira stared straight at Taeho with an expression of disbelief.
“What did you say? Do you know how much money we’re paying?”
Taeho lightly pushed Amira, who was blocking his way, aside and walked toward the door.
“A patient whose life is in danger comes before a patient who pays a lot of money. If you’ve waited fifteen years, you can wait ten more minutes. But for that patient, ten minutes could decide life or death.”
Taeho opened the hospital room door and ran out.
Amira stood there, trembling.
Anger, confusion, and emotions she could not understand tangled together in a complex knot.