Trafford's Trading Club

At this moment, Mr. Ofi waved it off, speaking in a low voice, “I don’t want to hear this, just tell me, what do you plan to do now?”

The experts exchanged glances, and ultimately, the attending doctor mustered up the courage to say, “I think we can maximize the maintenance of the patient’s life while waiting for various test results to potentially uncover some clues. Moreover, there are many outstanding neurological experts abroad whom we will try to contact… Rest assured, we will do our utmost to treat the patient.”

“Alright.” Mr. Ofi nodded, “At least I didn’t hear the worst… go ahead and do your work.”

After dismissing these experts, Mr. Ofi promptly fell silent, frowning as if making a difficult decision. Ultimately, he gritted his teeth, looking at his secretary, “Prepare an application for me to take a long vacation to the Presidential Palace.”

Upon making this decision, for some reason, Mr. Ofi suddenly felt like he had stopped—as if in an endless marathon race, he had suddenly come to a halt.

After this, Mr. Ofi intended to reside permanently in the hospital, but what he didn’t expect was that in the evening, several visitors came from the research institute.

The leading person was the director of the research institute whom he was familiar with, while the others were a few veteran national talents from the institute.

“Ofi, how is Ferenc’s condition?” The director asked concernedly about Dr. Ferenc’s situation.

“Not optimistic.” Mr. Ofi spoke frankly.

“This…” The director hesitated, glancing at the few esteemed scholars accompanying him, appearing as though wanting to say more but holding back.

Mr. Ofi frowned, “Why else have you come?”

The director gritted his teeth, speaking earnestly, “What I’m about to say might upset you. But… but we really need Ferenc. I don’t know what has happened to him, but one thing is certain! What he left us can lead our aerospace technology to an unprecedented breakthrough… it even made me see the possibility of surpassing major powers!”

“Yeah! It’s simply incredible!” An elderly scientist accompanying them exclaimed excitedly, “Ferenc has possibly overcome difficulties that might take an entire generation of effort! He is our nation’s greatest genius!”

“So, what do you mean?” Mr. Ofi suddenly felt disgusted. It was precisely this spirit of sacrificing for science that had once brought him the pain of losing his family, “Are you planning to drag my father back? To take a patient lying on a hospital bed, unable to ensure survival, to such a high-intensity workplace? For your so-called major breakthroughs?”

“That’s not what we mean!”

The director quickly calmed Mr. Ofi’s slightly agitated emotions, speaking earnestly, “We are equally concerned about Ferenc’s health; it’s not any easier for us than it is for you. Ofi, please understand, we really need him… So, once Ferenc is able to recover, I hope you won’t stop him from coming back. We need him!”

The director, along with several elderly men around him, pleaded earnestly with Mr. Ofi.

“Don’t bother me!”

Mr. Ofi directly drove the director and the others away, then slammed the hospital room door shut.

Not long after, the sound of footsteps was heard from outside, the footsteps of the director and the others leaving.

Mr. Ofi took a deep breath, then walked to the glass window, looking at Dr. Ferenc in the intensive care unit, covered with various instrument connectors.

He reached out toward the glass window, trying to touch the father he couldn’t actually reach, and smiled bitterly, saying, “I know, they need you, every word they said was true. That kind of shining gaze… both you and Madam Maggie have had it, I know…”

Mr. Ofi closed his eyes and murmured, “I know.”

…

…

“Dinner time, Harry.”

Boston knocked on the door and then pushed the meal box through a small window at the bottom of the door — this was a specially made room, typically used to hold those disobedient people. Of course, at certain times, it was also used to imprison ‘hostages’.

Naturally, ever since meeting Boss Arno, Boston and his crew hadn’t engaged in the kidnapping and extortion business — too little profit for the time invested.

“When can I go out? Weren’t you supposed to swap me today?” Harry’s voice echoed nervously from inside the room.

Boston just sneered a couple of times, not even bothering to reply, then closed the window at the bottom of the door. He had just turned around when he heard the sound of things being thrown inside, Boston smiled coldly and paid no attention.