Henning spent nearly ten full minutes trying to get himself under control before the conversation could continue. No one in the room mocked him for it. In fact, most of the elders quietly looked away and pretended not to notice his tears at all. Despite the rough appearance he carried, Henning was still just a child. He might have stood nearly one hundred seventy centimeters tall, possessed the exhausted face of a grown man, and carried himself with the caution of someone twice his age, but that did not change reality. The world had simply forced him to grow up too quickly. Years of stress, hunger, sleepless nights, and endless fear had carved deep marks into his expression until he no longer resembled someone who had only recently turned sixteen. If anything, he looked like a weary thirty-year-old man who had already lost faith in life.
Yet strangely enough, as the tears finally stopped, the atmosphere around him subtly changed.
The exhaustion in his eyes eased slightly. The hopeless tension in his shoulders loosened. For the first time since entering the room, Henning actually looked his age. It was as though finally hearing someone tell him that his sister would live had returned a piece of the childhood he had long buried away. Even Dennis, who had been leaning against the wall quietly eating a pastry, smiled faintly when he noticed the difference.
Fabian Bingen waited patiently until Henning finished wiping his face before continuing the discussion. The old doctor understood better than most how dangerous emotions could become when left bottled up for too long. Society had improved greatly over the past century. Men and women stood far closer to equal footing than they once had. Still, some old ideas stubbornly refused to disappear completely. One of those ideas was the belief that men should never cry, never ask for help, and never show weakness. Fabian could easily imagine how terrified Henning must have become after years of relying only on himself. Especially after the last adult who offered "help" had used his sister as leverage to force him into criminal work.
"Now then," Fabian said calmly, adjusting his glasses, "we will naturally cover all medical expenses from this point onward. Frankly speaking, your situation should have been resolved far earlier if someone here had remembered the principles our family stands for instead of allowing his ego to cloud his judgment."
The temperature in the room instantly dropped.
Every elder present slowly turned toward the young doctor standing beside the table. The poor man nearly looked ready to collapse on the spot. His face had gone pale long ago, sweat covered his forehead, and the constant trembling running through his body had only worsened during the meeting. Henning could now fully understand what Dennis meant earlier. The Bingens truly did not believe in empty punishments. Somehow, they had turned the young doctor into a walking example of suffering without leaving behind a single visible injury.
"Dennis has probably already explained part of the situation," Fabian continued evenly. "And he likely asked you to go easy on him. Rest assured, the punishment he is receiving is only beginning. So if you feel angry, feel free to express it."
The young doctor flinched violently at those words.
"As for the doctors who directly prevented you from receiving treatment that day," Fabian said coldly, "they are no longer licensed to practice medicine."
Another folder was handed toward Henning.
Inside were names, photographs, and detailed records.
"If you or your sister ever desire revenge," Fabian added, "their information is there."
The room fell silent.
Henning stared at the documents for several long seconds before quietly pushing them back across the table.
"Thank you for your thoughtfulness," he said honestly, "but I have no desire for revenge against them or your family. It was not your fault that I failed to go through the proper channels."
That answer surprised several elders.
Henning simply did not like owing favors to others. Trusting people too deeply had never ended well for him before. Even now, despite everything happening around him, part of him remained suspicious. Powerful people rarely acted without reason.
But Fabian immediately shook his head.
"That," the old man said firmly, "is where you are wrong, young man."
The other elders nodded in agreement.
"You see," Fabian continued, leaning back slightly in his chair, "our family has watched European healthcare slowly rot over the past several decades."
Henning blinked in confusion.
That statement completely contradicted everything he had researched over the years. European healthcare systems were considered some of the best in the world. Even during the chaos following the System's arrival, they had remained relatively functional compared to many other places. Seeing the confusion on Henning's face, Fabian gave a tired smile.
"The problem is not technology," he explained. "Nor is it the quality of education. The problem is standards. We no longer receive interesting patients. Most members of our family stop working in public hospitals by the time they reach thirty years old because that is when hospital shareholders begin interfering."
Fabian's expression visibly darkened.
"At first they tolerate us because they can advertise our family name. They allow younger members of our family to operate freely under the excuse of training and research. We spend years dragging people back from death's doorstep, handling impossible cases, and improving our skills." He scoffed bitterly. "Then, the moment we become truly experienced, the administrators suddenly become clever. They promote us into executive positions and restrict who we are allowed to treat."
Several elders nearby openly sneered.
"They expect us to waste our time fixing broken fingers for billionaires while ordinary people die waiting in emergency rooms," Fabian continued angrily. "We become too 'important' to waste effort on common patients."
What followed was less an explanation and more a full rant.
Fabian openly described corrupt shareholders, greedy executives, and wealthy investors who treated hospitals like businesses instead of places meant to save lives. Henning tried very hard to ignore the more concerning parts of the discussion. Especially the section where the elders casually mentioned poisoning several administrators who attempted to blackmail or threaten members of the Bingen family into obedience.
Apparently, the Bingens dealt with problems very directly.
"Anyway," Fabian eventually said with a tired sigh, "that is why we consider modern healthcare broken. Our family owns several independent hospitals where treatment costs are adjusted according to income. Those facilities are considered among the best in the world. Yet even then, wealthy parasites constantly interfere."
His gaze sharpened.
"Years ago, when someone developed an unknown illness, cases like that would immediately spread throughout the medical community. Experts would gather eagerly because solving difficult conditions advanced medicine itself. But now?" Fabian laughed bitterly. "Cases like your sister's are quietly buried because poor patients generate no profit. Administrators reject treatment requests while claiming the patient would only waste hospital resources. Then they pocket the remaining budget themselves."
The disgust in his voice was impossible to hide.
"That," Fabian concluded quietly, "is why we believe this situation is partially our fault."
To Henning's complete shock, every elder present lowered their heads.
They bowed.
Not as powerful nobles humoring a child, but as doctors sincerely apologizing to a patient's family.
"No, no, please stop," Henning said immediately, panicking slightly. "I cannot accept that. You are doctors, not the people controlling the money. Honestly, I think it is admirable that your family still tries to resist the system at all."
This time it was Fabian's turn to look awkward.
Truthfully, compared to Henning's struggles, the risks the Bingens took hardly seemed courageous. Their family possessed deep connections with many of Europe's great noble houses. Countless nobles relied on Bingen doctors personally. That influence protected them far more than ordinary physicians.
Still, hearing praise from someone who had genuinely suffered under the system left many elders visibly uncomfortable.
Eventually Fabian cleared his throat.
"There is… one more reason we requested this meeting," he admitted carefully. "We would like permission to use your story and your sister's condition to expose the corruption within the medical industry."
Henning froze.
"Of course," Fabian added quickly, "your identities will remain restricted to only the highest levels. No one will dare move against you."
Henning lowered his gaze thoughtfully.
If exposing what happened to them could prevent others from suffering similarly, then perhaps it was worthwhile. His sister, despite everything she endured, had always remained kinder than he was. One of her biggest wishes had always been that nobody else would experience the same helplessness she did.
"I agree," Henning said quietly at last. "If it can really change things."
Then he hesitated.
"But… what makes you so certain others will support your plan?"
Fabian suddenly smiled.
"Oh," he said calmly, "that part is rather simple."