Chapter 248: Milo (5)
And the next morning—
The news that awaited me at the hospital was completely unexpected.
“Milo… passed away early this morning.”
***
Milo’s body had already been moved to the morgue, and only the dinosaur dolls were left alone on the hospital bed.
Relatives were busy gathering scattered belongings throughout the room.
A new patient needed to be admitted into the room.
Amid that confusion, Milo’s parents stood there blankly.
When our eyes met, the mother burst into tears.
“Why didn’t we listen to you? If we had, none of this would’ve happened.” In the end, the IL-6 treatment they insisted on took their son’s life.
As she sobbed in grief, she eventually let out a voice full of blame.
“Why didn’t you stop us more strongly back then? If you had... if only you had...!”
Despite her twisted resentment, David lowered his head and responded heavily.
“I’m truly sorry.”
With those words, the couple started sobbing again.
And soon, the entire hospital room was filled with sorrow as people consoled one another.
I, too, quietly offered my shoulder in solidarity.
Even then, however, one question kept circling in my mind.
‘Why did he die?’
I was curious about the exact cause of death...
But it didn’t feel appropriate to press the grieving family about it.
I only learned the cause an hour later, after meeting with the attending physician.
“It was acute pulmonary hemorrhage. It appeared like ARDS, but there was also atypical DIC. We tried anticoagulants, platelet transfusion, and fluids to manage the blood pressure, but...”
The doctor’s response itself had been appropriate.
If it had been a typical patient, that is.
But in cases like Castleman’s disease, an excessive immune response can worsen vascular damage.
What was needed then was a combination of high-dose steroids and other immunomodulators—but that step had been missed.
So, the cause of death was...
“You overlooked the signs of Castleman’s disease, didn’t you?”
They had followed standard treatment protocols without accounting for the rarity of the condition.
“That’s correct. We never anticipated this outcome...”
Still, I couldn’t bring myself to blame the medical team.
The rarity and complexity of this disease weren’t well known in clinical practice.
We only understood it because we had seen it firsthand in a few patients we had treated.
In other words, we were the only ones who had the knowledge to save Milo.
And at that critical moment, every one of us had stepped away.
And the person who had suggested everyone leave the hospital...
Was none other than me.
“I’m not feeling well... I’ll head back to the hotel first.”
After hurriedly leaving the hospital and returning to the hotel, I tried to collect my thoughts.
One word kept spinning in my head.
—
Mistake.
‘I shouldn’t have interpreted the survival rate that way...’
I had let my guard down after seeing the survival rate on the death notice.
But that rate wasn’t Milo’s.
It was Baron—Hashiheon’s—survival rate.
‘So, regardless of how Milo fared, of course the number went up.’
We had been monitoring Milo’s seizures in real time, collecting a massive amount of data.
That data would become a crucial clue in developing treatments.
That’s why the number increased.
But...
I was intoxicated by that increase and hastily ordered the evacuation.
In the end, we used the child for data and left him to fight the final battle alone.
‘If even one of us had stayed behind...’
Maybe Milo would still be alive.
It was a fatal mistake that couldn’t be undone.
"
But the one who paid the price wasn’t me.
It was a three-year-old boy.
“Phew...”
I felt the urge to drink.
Walking into the living room of the suite, I found it stocked with premium alcohol, as expected from a five-star hotel.
After a brief moment of hesitation, I chose vodka.
It wasn’t my favorite drink, but I wasn’t in the mood to savor the taste anyway.
More importantly, if I wanted to wash away this sickening feeling inside...
A strong spirit seemed best.
I poured the vodka into a glass and downed it in one gulp.
As it traveled down my throat, it left behind a burning heat.
It felt like something was being disinfected.
But it didn’t make me feel any better.
Then.
As I kept sipping, my gaze drifted toward the hotel notepad.
‘Maybe I should do something more constructive.’
I immediately grabbed the notepad and started scribbling.
I wrote down everything I remembered—every “sign of the storm.”
The violent winds that had swirled inside Milo’s body.
IL-1B, CXCL9, MCP-1, IL-8...
‘If—’
If these kinds of winds were found consistently in patients who needed the third treatment...
If this was their pattern...
Then the data we had obtained would be immensely valuable.
It could become a standard for accurately identifying patients in need of Russian Roulette treatment.
Currently, patients could only try the Russian Roulette treatment after risking their lives with Treatment 1 and Treatment 2.
But if we could establish this pattern?
They could pull the trigger without having to face those deadly hurdles.
‘That must be why the survival rate went up.’
It was incredibly valuable information.
I just couldn’t get over the fact that a child’s life was the cost of obtaining it.
‘Still... we can’t throw away data that was so hard-won, can we?’
Someone has to live.
And this metric will ultimately be used to save more lives.
Even as I tried to rationalize it, the unease in my chest wouldn’t go away.
I took another swig of vodka, trying to wash away the murkiness in my heart.
And just as I had emptied about half the bottle—
The doorbell suddenly rang.
‘At this hour... who could it be?’
It had to be one of two people.
David or Rachel.
But I was wrong.
It was both of them.
No—three people, including Jessie.
“Rachel was worried about you being alone, Sean...
“Would it be okay if we came in?”
To be honest...
I wasn’t exactly thrilled.
But I couldn’t think of a good excuse to turn them away.
“Sure, come on in.”
As I stepped aside to let them in, I added a word.
“Please take off your shoes.”
An hour later.
I regretted my decision.
“Wow! A penthouse really is a whole different world!”
It was much more chaotic than I expected.
Especially Jessie.
Until now, she and I had kept a kind of unspoken distance.
We only worked together when spinning the Russian Roulette—otherwise, we avoided each other in private.
Maybe we both instinctively knew.
That we weren’t exactly compatible.
Jessie wasn’t very good at respecting others’ privacy.
Just like now.
Excited to explore the penthouse, she went poking around the place.
“Can I look at this?”
Before I could stop her, she picked up the notepad.
The memo still held traces of my thoughts on how to make use of Milo’s death and what patterns might be found from it.
Annoyance bubbled up in my throat...
But if I acted sensitive now and tried to snatch it back, it would likely backfire.
So I sat at the edge of the sofa, forcing my expression to remain neutral, and pondered how to escape this uncomfortable situation.
‘If they label me a sociopath… that’d be a problem.’
Crunching numbers before the child’s funeral had even taken place?
It was behavior befitting a sociopath.
If I couldn’t explain myself, there was no doubt their attitude toward me would change.
That would lead to all sorts of future inconveniences.
But then—
“That’s impressive. You remembered all this, Sean.”
A response I hadn’t expected.
“I tried to recall everything too, but nothing really came to mind... but if we figure out this pattern, we might be able to identify Russian Roulette patients in advance, right?”
I was honestly surprised.
Even David, one of the kindest people I knew, was thinking just like me.
“Where do you think the ‘switch’ might be, Sean?”
“I thought it might be the inflammasome. Judging by the IL-1B overactivation.”
“Really? I was leaning more toward the macrophage-Th1 circuit. With TNF-alpha and IL-12 stimulating Th1 cells... maybe that’s what caused the massive release of IFN-gamma…”
For a while, David and I had a heated discussion.
We shared opinions on where the ‘madness’ switch might be, and what it truly was.
“It’s heartbreaking that the information came at the cost of a young life like Milo’s… but if we want to honor that, we have to save as many as we can with this data.”
It was truly unexpected.
Even David, who had mourned the patient’s pain as if it were his own, was making calculations similar to mine.
‘Then maybe... my reaction wasn’t so abnormal after all?’
Chances were, it wasn’t.
Especially seeing how even Rachel was thinking about how to make use of this data.
That said, her approach was quite different.
“If we can use this to screen Russian Roulette patients in advance… how about calling it the ‘Milo Test’? As a way of showing our gratitude to him.”
She was suggesting we name it after the boy.
Of course, we weren’t just looking to exploit the child’s death.
“Why did it have to be Milo?! This cruel world! It’s just too much!”
At some point, Jessie began crying, cursing the heavens.
But as this topic came up, the conversation took a heavier turn.
“It was wrong for us all to pull out. At least one of us should’ve stayed…”
I was the one who had suggested we all leave the hospital.
So I had been prepared to face criticism and blame—
“I’m sorry. It’s all my fault.”
But the person who suddenly apologized was none other than Rachel.
“I’m the patient representative. No matter what, I should’ve prioritized the patient’s well-being... If I had, I would’ve insisted someone stay behind.”
“Why are you blaming Rachel? The problem is that none of us thought of that.”
“Seriously, why didn’t we think of it? I guess we were too tired and just relieved…”
No one pointed fingers at me.
Instead, they naturally treated it as a mistake we all shared.
Rachel added another thought.
“I think this was a systemic flaw. Was it really necessary for all four of us to move together? If we had worked in two shifts…”
“Exactly. Let’s make rotation a rule from now on. I’ll be with David, and Sean with Rachel. One team must always stay with the patient.”
“If only we had realized that a little earlier…”
Once again, we mourned Milo’s death, but then we wiped our tears and started discussing the lessons learned and what to do next.
“We need to publish a case report on the symptoms and side effects we observed. Doctors at other hospitals treating Castleman’s disease need to know.”
“But the foundation’s current staff won’t be enough… We’ll need to hire more people.”
The atmosphere was surprisingly lively—almost too much so.
Not that we were taking things lightly.
Every time Milo’s name came up, everyone’s face would cloud over, and we’d hear sniffles between sentences.
A heavy shadow—Milo’s death—loomed beneath all our conversations.
And yet, strangely… there was a certain vitality flowing through that weight.
As time passed, Rachel was the first to pass out from the alcohol, followed by David.
And horrifically enough… that left just Jessie and me.
‘I should probably pretend I’m drunk and fall asleep soon.’
Then Jessie suddenly asked me:
“Sean, do you... have feelings for Rachel?”
What?
“I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”
“Liar. You totally know.”
Yep, this woman is hard to deal with.
She doesn’t know how to respect boundaries.
But I couldn’t ignore her—we’d be seeing each other often.
“She’s a really good person.”
“So... you’re saying you like her?”
I didn’t deny it.
She wouldn’t believe me even if I did.
And honestly... in terms of looks, she was basically my ideal type.
But—
“I don’t think we’d be a good match. Our personalities are complete opposites. Besides, we’re involved in too many things—I don’t want to make things complicated.”
That was the absolute truth.
Just look at the Marquise family.
Gerard, Raymond, and even the uncles.
And now I’d be dating Rachel?
Just thinking about it gave me a headache.
“I don’t even have time for a relationship.”
“That’s a relief.”
Relief?
What’s that supposed to mean?
“You just don’t seem like someone who can keep a relationship going. You’ve never dated someone for more than a year, have you?”
I didn’t respond, unsure of what to say, and she kept pressing, eyes sparkling.
“Okay, what about half a year?”
“….”
“Then, a month?”
“….”
“Seriously?!”
This woman is definitely a handful.
As I pressed down on the edge of the couch in frustration, Jessie clapped her hands.
“I knew it! But think about it. If you and Rachel started dating and then broke up, it would make things super awkward for the rest of us, right?”
“That won’t happen.”
“Exactly! That’s why I’m relieved!”
Honestly, her level of joy was a bit annoying.
“But why even ask that in the first place?”
Jessie emptied her glass and answered honestly.
“Why, huh… Actually, it was Rachel who suggested we come here today. She was worried about you being alone… She said you’d definitely take on all the blame by yourself, and she wanted to make sure you knew we’re all responsible for this.”
Well, that sounded like Rachel.
“If it were anyone, Rachel would’ve made the same suggestion—not just for me.”
“That’s what’s so strange!”
“…?”
“She treats you like a normal person! Isn’t that amazing?”
What was she talking about now?
“Like, David is the kindest person I know. He cares about others instinctively—it’s like second nature to him. But even he assumes you’ll be fine on your own and doesn’t worry about you. Because you’re just *that* kind of person.”
And she wasn’t wrong.
I don’t need anyone to fuss over me.
I’ll take care of myself tomorrow, just like always.
“But Rachel treats you like someone who *needs* to be cared for! I mean, how many people in the world would see you that way? Not even David! So I thought—maybe Rachel is the only one on Earth who sees you like that… I mean, who else could see someone capable of toppling nations as someone who needs *protection*? That’s not normal!”
In short, she was saying Rachel had incredible empathy.
And that no one but her could embrace someone like me.
Still, maybe because she was drunk, Jessie went on and on repeating the same point in various ways.
‘When is this going to end?’
As I looked for a chance to escape, my phone screen lit up.
Perfect timing—an email notification.
“Excuse me a moment. It’s a work email…”
I quickly freed myself from Jessie’s conversation and looked at my phone.
The sender was Alex—the founder of Next AI.
And the contents of his email were alarming.
<We’ve received an investment proposal from Aaron Stark.>