"No... different?"
Martin repeated, his expression dazed, stammering:
"But... but how is that possible? I've checked; their symptoms are exactly the same!"
"Oh? Are you sure?"
"Of, of course, of course! They all show dance-like movements, have unsteady walking, difficulty swallowing, slurred speech... and also... gradually they become demented, with worsening memory..."
As Martin spoke, he began to choke up, pleading, "How can that be different? They're clearly exactly the same!"
"But Cornelius is an old man, while Renina is still a child. That's a difference, right?"
The young man with the drill counted on his fingers and patiently said, "Cornelius had an acute onset and became severe due to lack of timely treatment, whereas Renina's illness worsened slowly over several years. The doctor told you it's incurable; that's the second difference."
His voice softened, yet it struck Martin's heart like a hammer.
"And most importantly... Cornelius's illness was due to blocked and ruptured cerebral blood vessels, but your daughter Renina?"
Martin's lips trembled as he said shakily, "Renina, it's... it's because of her genes... it's hereditary..."
"See, that's the fundamental difference."
The young man with the drill said steadily, "One is the sudden necrosis of a part of the body, in simpler terms it's actually a stroke;"
"The other is like having a flawed program from birth, and after barely running for a while, the system begins to slowly and continually crash."
He leaned down to look into the other's tear-filled eyes and softly asked, "So... how could they be the same?"
"Not the same... if they're different..."
Martin slumped to the ground as if all strength had drained from him:
"Then all that we've done... what does it mean? It would be better to... better to stay home and keep her company for her final days..."
The young man with the drill changed his tone: "… but not all was in vain."
Martin looked up at him, bewildered and desperate.
He saw the young man with the drill glance over to Vid, who was pressing his finger to his ear as if communicating with someone, then smiled slightly.
"You're very fortunate," the young man with the drill said meaningfully, "The person who can save you happens to be someone with a soft heart... if Magic can cure Renina, he will certainly help."
"Ma...gic?"
Martin repeated the word that seemed naturally endowed with mystical power, and his gaze involuntarily followed the other's line of sight, landing on the black-haired boy.
Suddenly, this father remembered—when the sun-like radiant light exploded, there seemed to be a blurry figure in the center.
And after the light faded... the boy stood at that position.
Like a messenger of the gods.
All of a sudden, an indescribable emotion surged in his heart, and hot tears burst out without warning. He wept into his hands as if in collapse, unable to speak.
In his ears was the calm voice of the young man:
"However... though your daughter may be saved, you must also face the consequences of everything you've done today."
"I understand the feelings of a father, but aren't the other people on the plane innocent too?"
As soon as he finished speaking, a strange, faint fragrance spread out, and Martin's vision went black as he collapsed forward.
This time, he completely lost consciousness.
The "passenger" holding the Life and Death Potion glanced at the young man with the drill and said somewhat solemnly, "Vilan, you didn't need to say so much."
Vilan supported Martin, showing a relaxed smile on his soot-covered face, and said cheerfully, "Oh, I had nothing better to do anyway!"
He placed the man in his seat, fastening the seat belt, and turned his head to look around, noticing that most passengers had already fallen asleep, and said in surprise, "Good job, Vidas!"
"Not everyone is as chatty as you!" Vidas said sullenly, "Goofing off during a mission, you ought to be reformed!"
Vilan defended himself, "I wasn't goofing off, I was learning."
"Learning what?" Vidas asked.
"Human hope and despair, family and faith, morality and responsibility... aren't these things interesting? If we were all like you, we'd really be in trouble!"
Vilan glanced at the unconscious Martin, then at Vid's direction and added with implication:
"The master didn't stop me, which means—my actions are within his permissible range, right?"
Vidas couldn't be bothered to argue with him, just shook his head and walked toward the remaining people with the Magic Potion.
He consulted no one, moving the bottle around the passengers at a rapid pace, applying mild pressure with his fingers. The vaporized Life and Death Potion was absorbed by the passengers and would put them to sleep in less than two seconds.
Ever since Vid released the Sunlight Charm, the internal cabin had become dimmer than before—not an illusion, but the brightness of the economy class had been subtly lowered.
Amidst the various sounds created by the passengers and the Poppets, Vidas's actions were quick and inconspicuous, unnoticed by anyone.
And by the time some realized something was amiss, he had quietly disseminated the Life and Death Potion throughout the entire cabin.
Seeing that Vidas was managing well alone, Vilan stretched his muscles, carelessly sat down in an empty seat, deftly buckled the seat belt, and finally tilted his head, closing his eyes in a flawless sleeping posture.