NOVEL NEXT Chapter 162: Short-Lived, Parting (Supplementary)_2
He took out the formula Little Mike had given him and couldn't help feeling even more distressed.
Because all he had asked for was "Man's Fortune," yet on the back of the formula sheet, Little Mike had added the remaining two chemical synthesis formulas as well.
Dean knew this was Little Mike's way of trying to get closer to him, a tactic devoid of any emotional considerations.
But he did like being tempted!
To be fair, Little Mike only talked about interests and couldn't understand emotions. He was unclear about the value of his own things and wouldn't develop chaotic thoughts or emotions even if he knew he was at a loss. Furthermore, he was very rational in communication. He was the type of partner any normal man would like.
After all, who could resist a small, easy-to-bully, non-clingy boy with little desire, who also lets you take advantage of him?
So, deep down, Dean truly hoped that Little Mike's health issue wasn't serious.
What one fears, one stumbles into.
Little Mike was inside for merely over ten minutes.
A serious-looking middle-aged woman, holding a paper report and with a grim expression, found Dean. "Mr. Dean, may I ask, does this child have some kind of congenital hormonal defect? His endocrine system seems to be collapsing!"
Dean's face stiffened, and, unable to conceal the truth any longer, he nodded. "He suffers from a congenital emotional disorder."
To his surprise, the female expert shook her head. "A normal congenital emotional disorder leans towards psychiatric illnesses, but he entirely lacks the secretion of emotive hormones. This is a very fatal issue. It's amazing he's lived until now."
"Why?" Dean was somewhat puzzled.
In his view, besides Little Mike's deadpan face, some oddities in speech tone and cognition, and a bit of frailty, he seemed to have no serious problems.
"It's a complex issue, how should I put this..." Taking into account Dean's good looks and the requests from the patron, Ross, the female expert leaned on her hand, tapped her forehead, and began to explain, "Emotions are products of various hormones interacting chemically within our bodies. For example, happiness, anger, worry, thought, sorrow, fear, shock, and so on. Beyond these commonly recognized emotions, there are others. In reality, feeling hungry, tired, or experiencing body aches—these are all survival emotions and cognitions fed back to us after these hormonal reactions. But that child has none of these! He wouldn't know he's hungry, nor would he realize that a wound is painful. All his senses and cognition can only be formed through postnatal learning."
"But if someone takes special care of him and he's cautious, none of this should be fatal!" Dean understood and was even more perplexed.
The female expert nodded. "Indeed. But you forgot that the human body is like a big factory, with every part engaged in various miraculous functions. His lack of many hormones is like missing some parts. This will affect the body as a whole."
"Like what?"
"The heart, liver, spleen, lungs, kidneys... these will all be affected. Let me give you an example and you'll understand: When faced with danger, the human body secretes a large amount of adrenaline to stimulate the potential for survival. This prerequisite is that your kidneys have these hormones... In any case, we will have to see the examination results. I'm only making a basic guess."
The female expert spoke rather diplomatically.
But Dean knew the outcome was likely not optimistic.
Seeing Dean not speaking, the female expert took out a lady's cigarette from her pocket, lit it, and consoled, "Is this your brother?"
"Close enough," Dean pinched the formula in his pocket and said distressedly, "If he really is as you suspect, with the current medical technology, is there a way to solve it?"
"If there's enough money, we can treat whatever is found. After all, there's no shortage of synthetic hormones nowadays. Other damages can also be metabolized in different ways, as the body has compensatory functions. But no matter what means are used, there is a limit. Synthetic hormones themselves have a significant impact on a person as a whole.
"From my experience, your brother is safe and sound for now only because his body hasn't yet started its period of rapid development. He's managing to get by on compensatory measures, but that will only last until...
"You might want to spend more time with him from now on."
Dean nodded silently.
In fact, he had already gotten his hands on the formula.
He was not at a loss either way.
But a living Little Mike was more valuable.
Dean exhaled a cloud of smoke and said nothing more, quietly awaiting the results.
The experts were familiar with each other, working together in cooperation. Some were responsible for conducting the examinations, while others focused on compiling and analyzing.
「More than an hour later.」
The checkup concluded.
A report was handed to Dean.
Looking at the report, with its numerous red annotations of varying lengths, Dean asked in a low voice, "Is there a proper treatment plan?"
The expert in charge of communication shook her head. "He's suffering from mild to severe failure in almost every part of his body. It only seems like he's fine because the kid doesn't react.
"Even with meticulous care, as he gets older, his body will become less and less able to bear the burden. At most, he might hold on for another two or three years.
"Unless... unless we take a huge risk and replace all his organs, blood, and such. That might bring some relief, but basically, no institution can do all that."
HUFF.
Dean released a breath of pent-up frustration. "Got it. Don't let him know this outcome, and try not to communicate with him either. Just do what you need to do!"
The expert nodded and left.
They took the money for the job. They did still have professional ethics, after all.
「On the other side.」
Little Mike couldn't care less about the results of his checkup. He sat in his electric wheelchair, allowing a few female caregivers to wander around the villa's living room, familiarizing themselves with the environment, setting up cameras, and so on, for the homeowner's later inspection.
Dean approached Little Mike with a relaxed expression. "Buddy, the results are decent. You're just a bit malnourished, as long as..."
"Don't lie to me, Dean." Little Mike spoke indifferently, "Although I can't discern if what you're saying is true, my understanding of my own body and its flaws is no less than theirs. That's why I don't want to waste time, because I'm already running out of it..."
Dean opened his mouth to say something but eventually gave up on offering comfort. "Alright, things aren't really that good. I'll find a way to fulfill your wish before you go."
Little Mike didn't need that kind of false comfort. He would just consider it a meaningless act of low intelligence.
"It doesn't matter," Little Mike said. "I'm just giving myself a reason to keep living!"
"Alright," Dean replied. "I'll come to see you after I finish what I'm working on. Contact me on my phone if you need anything."
Dean left the place as if escaping.
For some reason, his seldom-guilty conscience felt somewhat uneasy, reflecting on whether taking advantage of a child like this was justifiable.
He needed to calm down now.
After a while, once his conscience was sufficiently blackened, he'd come back here!
...
「In a courtyard where leaves drifted down.」
Dean hurriedly left.
Little Mike sat in his electric wheelchair, his eyes bereft of emotion, silently watching Dean's retreating figure until it disappeared from his sight. Only after a long while did he remotely control his wheelchair to vanish into the living room.