?Chapter 781:

    Lenny stood beside her, his graying hair catching the light, his expression thoughtful. He seemed to be weighing every word before speaking.

    Maia finally turned to him, her voice hushed but urgent. “Professor Bryant, considering his condition… how much hope do we have?”

    Lenny’s brows drew together, the question striking a nerve. He didn’t respond right away, his eyes fixed on the closed door as if searching for answers beyond it. Atst, he replied in a voice heavy with caution. “We’ll need to see the test results before we can say anything for certain.”

    A cold unease crept into Maia’s chest. Though his words were reasonable, they carried the weight of someone preparing her for disappointment.

    “So… is it because too much time has passed? That the bullet fragments haven’t just settled, but…” Her voice faltered, dropping to a near whisper. “That they’ve fusedpletely with the brain tissue?”

    She had spent nights buried in case studies and knew this was the most dangerous possibility. Speaking it aloud felt like tempting fate.

    Lenny nced at her but gave no reply. He merely exhaled, long and slow. “Maia,” he said atst, “you’ve reviewed clinical cases too. You know that extracting a fragment, in itself, isn’t aplex operation. The real challenge lies in where it’s lodged. That…”

    region of the brain is a tangled web of nerves — particrly the frontal lobe, which governs our most delicate motor functions. Even if this were a recent injury, the odds of sess wouldn’t exceed thirty percent.” He paused. “And this… this isn’t even recent.”

    Maia felt her chest tighten like a fist around her heart. Her fingers curled instinctively. “What about now?” Her voice was hoarse. “Is there… not even a ten percent chance left?”

    Lenny said nothing right away. He looked out the window, letting the light touch the silver strands of his hair.

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    “Not impossible,” he murmured atst. “I’ll send today’s scans to a few of the leading neurology experts for parallel analysis. But if we go by precedent…” He turned his eyes toward Maia, sharp yet sympathetic. “Have his headaches grown more frequenttely?”

    The question caught her off guard. She gave a slow nod. “Yes.”

    He let out a soft sigh, the kind that came from years of hard truths. “That suggests the condition is worsening. If we leave it alone, it’s only a matter of time before it starts impairing his motor function. And once that happens, we’ll be staring down not just deterioration — but permanent paralysis.” His tone dropped further. “Even if we try to manage it conservatively, there’s no guarantee it won’t suddenly escte into something life-threatening.”

    Maia felt as if the floor had dropped from under her. “How can that be?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

    She looked at Lenny, disbelief swimming in her eyes. “Professor Bryant, is that really your assessment? I thought the fragment was only disrupting his memory, causing migraines, nothing more.”

    Lenny released a slow breath. “The problem is that it’s moved.”

    He raised his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, his voice deep. “Ipared his initial scans with thetest ones: the fragment has shifted by 0.1 millimeters. In most parts of the brain, that would be negligible. But in the frontal lobe, even that tiny shift canpromise nerve conduction. Avoiding physical strain or trauma might dy the worst, but it doesn’t change the direction things are heading.” His voice dropped to almost a whisper, tinged with helplessness. “And the hard truth is — no doctor wants to shoulder the risk of such a high-stakes brain surgery.”

    Maia lowered her gaze, hershes trembling.

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