"Stop it? Why?"
Kagura Hitomi was genuinely taken aback by Stephen Strange's objection.
"Dr. Strange, is there sothing wrong with our neural reconfiguration technology? Or have you discovered a major safety risk?"
"No," Strange replied. "Your technology is flawless."
His response only deepened her confusion.
"But I still can't allow this technology to be released to the world."
"If there's nothing wrong with the science, then what's the issue? Please explain your reasoning, Dr. Strange."
Kagura couldn't understand why Stephen Strange, of all people, would oppose a dical breakthrough that could potentially save countless lives.
Using nanotechnology, the enhanced Extremis virus could be introduced into a patient's body to repair and regenerate the nervous system in a matter of minutes.
It was a miracle of modern science nothing short of divine.
"The reason is simple," Strange said, lifting his head slightly.
In that mont, he looked less like a healer and more like a titan molded by the very power of the system.
"This technology is too advanced. If it's made public, it will cause trendous damage—not just to , but to all neurosurgeons."
"It will upend our profession. Our status, our livelihoods... all of it would be at risk. Surely you understand what I an, Miss Kagura?"
The air in the room suddenly turned cold, or maybe it was just the air conditioning set too low.
A strange silence settled between them.
And slowly, Kagura began to understand.
This was, indeed, a problem she hadn't considered.
"You an... we shouldn't make the technology available because it would hurt the interests of neurosurgeons?"
She tried to confirm what he ant. "Could you be more specific?"
Even if Strange hadn't gone on, Kagura could already guess what he was getting at.
The neural reconfiguration technology used the Extremis virus to enable nerve cells to heal and regenerate autonomously at the nanoscopic level.
It was an advanced treatnt that worked regardless of the attending physician's skill.
That ant surgeons like Stephen Strange a renowned for their surgical prowess—would inevitably lose their prestige, their value... perhaps even their jobs.
"Miss Kagura, do you know how many years of study it takes to beco a doctor?"
Strange looked at her, voice quiet but firm. "Do you understand the blood, sweat, and tears behind the skills I've honed over the years?"
"If one day, all of us who spent decades mastering our craft, who trained tirelessly through countless failures and obstacles."
"if we were suddenly rendered obsolete overnight by a single piece of technology—do you really think that would be fair? You're not just revolutionizing dicine. You're erasing the value of our lives."
"But..." Kagura furrowed her brow. "This technology could help so many people. It could change the world."
"And we would be its casualties!" Strange's voice dropped to a bitter calm. "Doctors who are worth millions would be reduced to nothing in a single night."
"I'm sorry, but I can't allow that to happen. As long as I'm still a neurosurgeon, I won't stand by while sothing like this wipes out our entire profession."
"But..." Kagura stared at his stern, uncompromising expression.
A thousand thoughts swirled in her mind, but none she could voice.
Stephen Strange.
He was, at this point, just a famous neurosurgeon a man who lived off his surgical skill.
He wasn't Doctor Strange yet.
His worldview was still driven by ambition and ego. He was proud, arrogant, commanding—at the center of his own universe.
And yet, what he said... was irrefutably true.
Every great technological leap cos with casualties.
The rise of machines displaced countless craftsn.
The computer age gutted entire industries, particularly labor-intensive ones.
Where once a factory floor needed hundreds of workers, now only a handful of supervisors were necessary.
The world was moving forward. But in the flood of innovation, there would always be those left behind with those who were replaced, or discarded.
If Rhein Life's neural reconfiguration tech went mainstream, surgeons wouldn't vanish altogether.
But people like Stephen Strange who had built their entire worth on surgical expertise—would see their value vanish in an instant.
"So... do you have any suggestions, Dr. Strange?"
Kagura asked quietly, genuinely curious about what he would say.
"This technology would ruin countless people who dedicated their lives to dicine," Strange said solemnly. "My suggestion? Cancel clinical trials."
"Seal it away. Forget about it. Maybe, maybe, it could be reserved for the most elite treatnt cases—but it should never go public."
He looked at her, eyes sharp but pained.
"Miss Kagura, I know this sounds harsh maybe even anti-social, but please consider our side too. We need to make a living."
"There are thousands of neurosurgeons out there with families, with children. Many of them are the sole providers for their households."
Kagura was silent.
In truth, this wasn't the first ti such a thing had happened in human history.
Many inventions were either killed off by vested interests before they saw the light of day or absorbed and twisted by capital until they beca unattainable luxuries.
It sounded evil, and it was undeniably tragic.
But it was also reality.
Humans chase profit. Humans are selfish. No one would nurture a new technology that might one day replace them.
Even state institutions tread carefully when it cos to innovation.
AI may be powerful, but no military would ever hand over nuclear launch codes to a machine.
Giving life-and-death authority to software violates the very instinct of human survival.
If governnts are this cautious, how could a private surgeon like Stephen Strange be expected to act differently?
He wasn't wrong.
People need to eat. And when technological progress threatens to shake the very foundation of an industry—it doesn't go far without resistance.
But progress is inevitable.
Think of the patients. Think of the eyes silently pleading for help, desperate for a miracle.
Right now, Kagura held in her hands a technology that could save lives—thousands, maybe millions.
And if she chose to bury it out of concern for the pride and wealth of a select few... then wouldn't that be the real selfishness?
This was a cri one that severed hope itself.
The rise of automation didn't stop despite workers being laid off. The decline of physical stores couldn't halt the booming growth of e-comrce.
The wheel of history never stops turning. And Kagura had no intention of standing on the wrong side of it.
Progress always cos at a cost. But if humanity fears paying that price, it will never move forward.
"I understand your point, Dr. Strange." Kagura nodded after a long silence. "But I'm sorry. I won't back down from promoting this technology."
"Why?! Don't you see? This could put countless doctors out of work!"
"But it's a life-saving technology. It has the potential to rescue more lives than we can count."
This ti, Kagura firmly chose to stand with progress.
"Every breakthrough cos with sacrifice. But that doesn't an we should halt progress."
"This neural reconstruction technology can save countless lives—it deserves to be shared with the world, not buried."
"Kagura! Why can't you understand?!" Stephen Strange looked furious.
"Let make one thing clear: As long as I'm around, your technology will never be approved! Don't challenge !"
"Rhine Life is just a tech company, the dical world answers to !"
"I'm sorry, Dr. Strange. I understand your concerns but I can't agree with your actions."
Kagura remained calm. "This is a decision made by the CEO of Rhodes Industries."
"If you can't accept it, you're free to walk away. I'll regret losing Rhine Life's chief neurosurgical advisor, but it won't stop us from bringing this technology to the world."
"You'll be cursed by every neurosurgeon alive!" Dr. Strange stood up, nearly trembling with rage.
"In every wave of innovation, soone gets sacrificed. This ti it's us. Next ti—it'll be you!"
"No one stays on the right side of history forever. One day, you'll find yourself in the exact sa position I'm in now."
"Kagura, when the day cos that you, your company, your entire world gets replaced by the next big thing, rember this mont. Rember your cold-hearted decision!"
With that, Stephen Strange stord out of the room.
"Maybe you're right," Kagura murmured with a long sigh. "I believe this decision is the right one... but I'll still accept your curses and hatred."
She folded her arms and leaned back in her chair.
"Just don't co crawling back if you get into a car crash and lose both your hands, begging to fix you with the neural reconstruction tech. That'd be pretty awkward."
Still... there was so truth in Strange's words.
What if, next ti, it was her side that had to be left behind?
Worse—what if the thing that needed to be eliminated... was all of humanity itself?
You want to protect the world, but you refuse to change it.
If you deny humanity its evolution—how can you ever hope to save it?
A question, buried deep in her mory, suddenly surfaced in her mind—piercing and cold.
Just then, a voice ca through her comms.
"Master, that conversation with Dr. Strange seed to go pretty smoothly," Cortana teased.
"Don't mock , Cortana. What is it?"
"Steve Rogers just contacted us. They've found the location of the Mind Scepter."
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