Leilani rubbed the paper, her thoughts clear and her voice calm.
“The person behind knew that formulating an antidote wouldn't be quick. And if we rashly neutralize one toxin, it might trigger another to erupt, accelerating organ failure.”
It put them in a dilemma, forcing them to stall. The person who poisoned Mr. Chilton was truly insidious, plotting harm with such meticulous thought.
Mr. Dillon nodded in agreement as he listened to her ideas, his expression equally grave. He had already studied the book before showing it to Leilani. “That's why we haven't dared to make a move.”
But seeing Mr. Chilton's condition deteriorating, and recalling Tilda saying that Dr. Cheney, who cured her, was incredibly skilled despite her youth—and that her acupuncture technique was legendary—Mr. Dillon thought that since modern medicine had hit a wall, they might as well try traditional methods.
Thinking back now, it was fortunate they made that decision. It took Leilani only a day to identify the most critical issue in Mr. Chilton's treatment. It had taken their group of specialists quite a while to reach that same conclusion, and they had drawn quite a bit of Mr. Chilton's blood in the process.
Leilani pondered for a moment. “I suggest we start with stabilization therapy. First, stabilize Mr. Chilton's vital signs, then figure out a way to formulate the antidote.”
Mr. Dillon frowned. They had hired Leilani to cure Mr. Chilton directly. If it was just conservative treatment, what was the point of hiring her?

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