Super Genius DNA

When Young-Joon’s meeting with Carpentier was almost over, Director Kim Young-Hoon came to see him.

“I didn’t know you already had a guest,” Kim Young-Hoon said, looking at Carpentier. “I’ll come back later.”

“No, I was just leaving.”

Carpentier stood up.

“We have to have a meeting with the people in charge of Kim Hyun-Taek's care about treating his locked-in syndrome anyway, so I’ll see you next time.”

Carpentier bowed and walked out.

Young-Joon then gestured for Kim Young-Hoon to sit down on the sofa.

“Nice to see you, Mr. Director.”

Kim Young-Hoon pulled out some papers. It was a merger agreement.

Laboratory Seven had developed ABAI, a bio-environmental artificial intelligence, when predicting the mosquito disaster in Guangdong. That artificial intelligence program used the algorithm from Tanya Manker’s GRO Industry, and Kim Young-Hoon suggested that instead of paying royalties, the company could absorb GRO.

“I’ve pretty much been neglecting this side of things because I was so busy, but you’ve done it all by yourself. Thank you,” Young-Joon said as he read the agreement.

“It worked out easily since Ms. Tanya is very friendly with you and she is very interested in the environment and public health,” Kim Young-Hoon explained. “We couldn’t bring the data scientists, statisticians, and programmers who are the core of GRO to Korea, so we decided to use the A-Bio Cancer Laboratory.”

“Right, you mentioned that,” Young-Joon said, nodding like he remembered.

“Soon, GRO will be acquired by the A-Bio Cancer Laboratory. Using ABAI, we will be able to track environmental pollution from various carcinogens and use that data to develop preventative or therapeutic treatments at the laboratory.”

“This will really speed up research.”

“And GRO’s shareholders were very excited about the idea of merging with the A-Bio Cancer Laboratory, so we were able to do it for relatively few shares.”

Young-Joon read the documents carefully and signed them.

“Then we’ll finalize the contract,” Kim Young-Hoon said.

“Thank you. By the way, Director Kim…”

Young-Joon stopped Kim Young-Hoon as he was leaving.

“Yes?”

“Do you know about a pharmaceutical company called Philistines?”

“Of course. They’re a famous venture that is revolutionizing biology in Egypt right now.”

“Can you tell me a little about how they do their research and development?”

“What is it for?” Kim Young-Hoon asked.

“What do you mean?”

“No matter how successful Philistines is, it’s a small company that A-GenBio can destroy with just one kick. And no matter how technologically advanced and progressive they are, they are no match for you. They are not our competitors, and we have nothing to learn from them. And most importantly, we’re in a different industry since we don’t develop botulinum toxin. So, I was sure that there are other reasons why you are interested in their research and development.”

“... There’s a very talented scientist among the terrorists who attacked GSC in the past. She is called Doctor Ref among the terrorist groups, and her real name is Isaiah Franklin.”

“Isaiah Franklin.”

“There’s a possibility that she’s working at Philistines.”

“I see. I’ll do a more thorough investigation, then.”

“Thank you.”

As Kim Young-Hoon was about to open the door and leave, he bumped into Yoo Song-Mi, who was coming in.

“Oh… I’m sorry,” Yoo Song-Mi said, rubbing her arm.

“What is it?” Young-Joon asked.

“We keep getting messages from people who want to volunteer for the brain death recovery trial.”

“... Turn them all down for now. We need to finish this trial before moving on to the next.”

“But among them is the prime minister of Israel…”

“Who?”

“The Beit Aghion in Jerusalem contacted us, asking for confidentiality.”

“Has the prime minister fallen?”

“I don’t think so, but they said they’ll let us know the details later.”

“...”

“I’ll go meet them,” Kim Young-Hoon said. “Maybe they’ll know something about Philistines.”

“Alright. Thank you.”

After sending off Kim Young-Hoon and Yoo Song-Mi, Young-Joon got ready to leave as well. He put on his jacket, then took it off. The daytime temperature had risen quite a lot now, so even his thin coat felt quite hot.

He went downstairs to the basement and got into his car to drive to the Next Generation Hospital.

*

The stem cells that were injected into Kim Hyun-Taek’s fourth ventricle differentiated into neurons, pushing out the dead tissue of the brainstem that had previously occupied the space and restoring the brain stem.

However, there was still one place where tissue differentiation was slow: it was the pons, the upper front part of the brain stem. This was where the motor neurons passed through. All locked-in syndrome patients had damage in this area due to stroke or other reasons.

Most of them, like Kim Hyun-Taek, could open their eyes, and this was because the nerves that moved the eyes were in the midbrain, not the pons. The beagle experiment also showed that neural recovery in the pons was the last to occur.

“We administered acetylcholine (ACh),” Song Ji-Hyun said.

“Acetylcholine.”

Young-Joon nodded.

It was a type of neurotransmitter.

“When we were treating the beagle, we injected neurotransmitters like dopamine and epinephrine, but we changed it to acetylcholine when the patient recovered to locked-in syndrome to focus neural differentiation in the pons.”

“Do we have to inject more stem cells?” Miguel asked.

“Yes. If all one hundred thousand of them went into the subventricular zone, there should still be some stem cells that haven’t differentiated yet, and they’re probably still trying to establish themselves. It should be enough,” Song Ji-Hyun said.

—See? What would’ve happened if I didn’t go in there and put those regurgitating stem cells back in?

‘Yeah, good work.’

Young-Joon complimented Rosaline in his head.

Song Ji-Hyun added, “Of course, this is a clinical trial that hasn’t been done before, so we can’t be sure of anything.”

“That’s one thing that makes this trial different from the beagle experiment,” Miguel said. “The patient is now conscious and capable of expressing his wishes. He might refuse to continue the trial.”

“He might refuse?” Park Dong-Hyun asked.

“Of course. The patient didn’t develop locked-in syndrome of an accident or something; they were brain-dead and slowly regained consciousness. He might just be thankful that he can see and think. He might be satisfied with having locked-in syndrome and stop with treatment.”

“No… No way. He won’t believe us after all we’ve done and proven?”

“Kim Hyun-Taek is a scientist,” Carpentier said. “He might have more doubts because he knows more. We don’t believe anything unless it has been proven. Also, there haven’t been any precedents, just a preclinical animal experiment, and he might not want to be the first and sacrifice himself.”

“That’s right. For Kim Hyun-Taek, it might be difficult to go ahead with an unprecedented trial that delivers acetylcholine to the pons when his condition is very stable right now. Even if he gets better like that, all he has left is prison and more prestige for Doctor Ryu,” Song Ji-Hyun said.

“For Kim Hyun-Taek, instead of going to jail, he could spend some more time in the hospital and wait for other cases of locked-in syndrome to be cured. He doesn’t have anything to lose if he gets treated after it’s confirmed that delivering acetylcholine to the brain is safe.”

“...”

“But the consent form clearly states that the trial includes recovery of the motor nerves, right?” Cheon Ji-Myung asked.

“The consent form was written by Kim Hyun-Taek’s wife. Legally, we have to explain the trial to the patient again,” Miguel said.

“Hm…”

The scientists and the medical team were deep in thought. Would the manipulative and selfish Kim Hyun-Taek offer his body to Young-Joon for the experiment?

Honestly, Song Ji-Hyun was skeptical.

“There’s nothing for us to think about,” Young-Joon said. “If Kim Hyun-Taek refuses, we find another patient with locked-in syndrome. If he gives us his consent, we continue. There’s no other way. As a clinical trial subject, he has the right to choose, and we’re obligated to respect that.”

“Alright…”

They all sounded a little defeated.

“Let’s just stay on the right path, even if it’s frustrating,” Young-Joon said.

*

“The Cheonjiin[1]keyboard is really amazing,” Lee Mi-Sook said, holding up a card with nine keypads and pointing to each key with her finger.

Kim Hyun-Taek blinked once, twice, or showed her a long blink to pick the cards Lee Mi-Sook was showing him and form words and sentences.

[Yeah.]

Lee Mi-Sook told Kim Hyun-Taek most of what happened while he was asleep.

“After you collapsed, Doctor Ryu got your lab. After that, the whole anthrax weapon development was publicized, and… CEO Yoon Dae-Sung turned himself in. He’s in jail right now with his son, Yoon Bo-Hyun,” she said. “A-Gen and A-Bio merged and are now called A-GenBio. Doctor Ryu is the sole largest shareholder, there are more employees, and it has more capital.”

[Is…]

Kim Hyun-Taek moved his eyes and began to form a sentence. It was difficult, but Lee Mi-Sook was patient and helped him finish his sentence.

[Is it over now?]

“Yeah, it’s all over now. You don’t have to fight anymore.”

It was all over. It was less dramatic than Kim Hyun-Taek thought.

Kim Hyun-Taek thought Young-Joon was dangerous from the moment he ran on to the stage at the year-end seminar. His eyes weren’t glowing with intelligence, and they weren’t filled with academic curiosity. Young-Joon’s eyes were burning with ambition and vengeance. He was outraged by the research ethics violations committed by Kim Hyun-Taek, and he seemed determined to destroy all corruption in the pharmaceutical industry.

He wasn’t the only one who sensed danger; Ji Kwang-Man had consistently warned that Young-Joon was trying to swallow up this company. Pharmaceutical companies relied heavily on research and development, and Young-Joon’s tremendous performance in that area made it seem possible.

‘But even so, I didn’t think that the Yoon Dae-Sung family would fall so easily.’

Kim Hyun-Taek thought he had just fainted for a while, but it was all over once he woke up.

It felt like a general anesthesia surgery. The feeling that came with futility was an unexpected sense of relief. Kim Hyun-Taek thought it would be painful to realize that the company had been taken from him, but it actually felt like all his pain was being relieved. Perhaps it was because the pressure to hold off the genius of the century was too much.

“Doctor Ryu will continue to treat you. I think he’s going to cure you completely.”

Lee Mi-Sook showed him the clinical trial consent form. She fixed it to the holder on the hospital bed so Kim Hyun-Taek could read it.

“They’ll even make you able to move.”

[It’s scary.]

Kim Hyun-Taek spelled it out with his eyes.

“Don’t worry. He doesn’t fail.”

[...]

But Kim Hyun-Taek looked anxious.

“Don’t worry about after you’re cured. If you go to jail, just come out after you pay for your crimes, and then we can just let go of everything. Even if everyone points their fingers at you, I’m on your side.”

Lee Mi-Sook patted Kim Hyun-Taek’s shoulder.

[You should have let me di…]

“What are you talking about!”

She hit him on the shoulder.

“When the news about you went out, someone in the comments said they feel bad for Kim Hyun-Taek’s wife because even if he gets better, he’ll be in jail for a long time.”

[...]

“You were in bed for over six months, but you don’t have any bedsores or UTIs because I’ve been taking great care of you.”

[...]

“A prison visit is nothing compared to all that trouble.”

[I’m sorry.]

“All you have to do is thank me. There’s someone else you need to be sorry to.”

Creak.

The hospital door opened. The people Kim Hyun-Taek should be sorry to appeared. Young-Joon walked in with Song Ji-Hyun and the other scientists and medical staff.

“It’s been a while, Director Kim.”

Young-Joon took out the consent form from his pocket.

“Since you have regained consciousness, we have to explain everything about this trial to you before we can continue. This trial is…”

“Wait. He wants to say something.”

Lee Mi-Sook, who saw that Kim Hyun-Taek wanted to say something, brought the letter cards. She lined them up in front of him and pointed to them one by one. With each blink, a consonant, stroke, and dot was added.

Slowly, Kim Hyun-Taek formed a short, simple sentence.

[I consent, so go ahead.]

1. Like the QWERTY keyboard, the Cheonjiin keyboard is a type of Korean keyboard that makes typing Korean more efficient. It consists of the consonants, and a vertical line, dot, a horizontal line for the vowels. ☜