Chapter 246: Milo (3)
Meanwhile, there was someone who couldn't hide his discomfort throughout the entire meeting.
It was David.
“Then let’s try the IL-6 inhibitor first.”
“That seems like the better option.”
Even the nephrology professor who had insisted on using rapamycin had changed his mind.
‘At this rate……?’
The IL-6 inhibitor would be administered first.
But he couldn’t just sit back and watch.
Because the process of deciding Milo’s treatment reminded him too much of his own past experience.
Srrk.
He quietly raised his hand.
But no one looked his way.
Or more precisely, they were deliberately pretending not to see.
‘Here we go again.’
David had always been quietly dismissed like this at the hospital.
To the doctors, David wasn’t a professor or a physician—just a "foundation representative overseeing clinical trials."
Of course, the doctors didn’t openly show hostility or discriminate against him.
‘If anything... you could say there’s a complete lack of discrimination.’
The way the professors looked at David was no different from how they’d treat an inexperienced med student.
But at this rate, they were going to go ahead with the IL-6 inhibitor again.
Clatter!
In the end, David stood up abruptly, forcing their attention toward him.
“The patient is already quite physically weakened and may not be able to withstand two attempts. In this situation, I believe administering rapamycin immediately would be a better option……”
He was suggesting they skip the IL-6 inhibitor and go straight to the second option.
“When we used the IL-6 inhibitor last time, it failed to stop the seizures and didn’t improve the inflammation markers either. Wouldn’t it be more reasonable to try rapamycin instead, which didn’t cause any seizures?"
At this, Dr. Patel, the primary physician, let out a faint sigh.
“The seizures weren’t stopped because the dosage wasn’t sufficient.”
“Even so, shouldn’t we have seen some improvement in CRP or ferritin levels?”
“No.”
A professor cut David off and continued.
“When you block IL-6, the body compensates by activating a new immune pathway, which takes about 48 hours to stabilize. If the drug is discontinued before then, of course no therapeutic effect will appear.”
It was a theoretically flawless explanation.
“Statistically, there’s more than a 30% chance that IL-6 is central to Castleman’s disease. In contrast, rapamycin isn’t even an established treatment yet. If we only get one shot, the IL-6 inhibitor is a safer and more rational choice.”
The attending physician wasn’t wrong.
Still, the reason David kept opposing it was...
‘This isn’t a purely medical decision.’
Everything about this process felt too familiar.
The inertia rolling forward like gravity.
The treatment determined by that inertia.
‘It was just like this back then too……’
David himself had undergone IL-6 treatment three times.
It hadn’t worked at all.
But the doctors believed that was the only right path.
Seeing the look on David’s face, as if he could guess what he was thinking, the attending physician spoke firmly.
“This isn’t the same as your case. This patient hasn’t even received the proper dosage yet.”
The physician then softened his tone and added,
“I do understand why you’re strongly advocating rapamycin. You personally recovered using it, so it must inspire deep trust.”
In other words, David had lost objectivity, being too caught up in his personal experience.
David couldn’t outright deny it.
‘Maybe… maybe that’s true.’
Perhaps David was projecting his experience onto Milo.
Even though Milo’s situation was completely different.
In such cases, following the standard procedure was the right thing to do.
And yet…
David’s gut instinct was strongly resisting.
Insisting that this decision needed to be reconsidered.
‘But… and if not, then what?’
Overturn the established protocol just because of a hunch?
That was impossible.
‘The CC…It’s an insurmountable wall.’
Just as that all-too-familiar sense of helplessness was starting to creep in—
A clear voice rang out right beside him.
“I also believe rapamycin would be the better option.”
Instantly, all eyes turned to the speaker.
It was Ha Si-heon.
“If you would consider my opinion, that is.”
The professors' faces hardened.
The easy confidence they showed when dealing with David vanished, and tension filled the room.
Normally, the authority to persuade the doctors here would come solely from the speaker’s “medical knowledge.”
But what if the speaker was Ha Si-heon?
:
‘He was already famous before…
But recently, the aura surrounding Ha Si-heon is on another level.
The man who fought a currency war with China and won.
Because of that, Ha Si-heon had gone beyond being just "competent"—he’d become someone you didn’t mess with.
Ha Si-heon calmly interlaced his fingers and continued speaking.
“Anyway, since we’re also shouldering a considerable expense on this end, I believe we have the right to voice our opinion.”
Of course, Ha Si-heon was footing Milo’s medical bills.
But what most people in the room thought of when he said “expense” wasn’t the cost of treatment.
It was the enormous donation Ha Si-heon had promised to make toward the construction of a new hospital wing.
‘Surely he’s not implying that he’ll withdraw the donation if they don’t listen to him… right?’
Ha Si-heon had never said such a thing outright, but similar thoughts were already forming in everyone’s minds.
“But the treatment protocol—”
“All procedures are subject to interpretation.”
Ha Si-heon curtly cut off the attending physician.
“If there’s no response even after administering 70% of the recommended dose, isn’t that grounds to consider it a failure? If it were only 30 or 40%, sure, but we’re talking about 70% here.”
There was undeniable pressure in his tone.
A heavy silence pressed down on the room.
‘Is this really okay?’
In truth, Ha Si-heon wasn’t making an unreasonable demand.
There was at least a minimal justification—Milo hadn’t responded to the first treatment.
Still, that alone wasn’t enough to override protocol, so Ha Si-heon was trying to tip the scales using the weight of his “generous donation.”
David wasn’t particularly shocked by Ha Si-heon’s approach.
He had already declared it at their first meeting:
—“I want to solve this with money.”
And indeed, “money” was wielding enormous power.
If you thought about it, the only reason David and Ha Si-heon, both outsiders, were even allowed into this multidisciplinary meeting was because of Ha Si-heon’s financial influence.
Still—
‘No matter how necessary this is… Is it really okay for such an important decision to be swayed by money?’
While David wrestled with those complex thoughts,
There was visible conflict on the doctors’ faces as well.
They couldn’t ignore procedure or easily abandon their convictions.
However, they also couldn’t simply dismiss the opinion of a benefactor who was offering to build a new hospital wing.
“In situations like this, the final decision doesn’t lie with us.”
Eventually, one of the professors pulled out a powerful shield.
“This is something the patient’s family must decide.”
***
“We’ll go with the IL-6 inhibitor.”
That was the conclusion given by the patient’s family.
I clicked my tongue internally.