"Krishna? Are you awake?
"Radha.
He forced his eyes open. It wasn't a cave or a dungeon. They were lying on a rough, grey canvas tarp on a concrete floor. The air was cold, the room windowless, lit by humming fluorescent lights.
It looked like a storage unit or an old factory floor.
"Radha! Are you okay?
" Krishna managed, pushing himself up.
He instinctively brushed himself off, arranging his clothes and removing the last traces of dust from the rough surface.
Radha came closer, her movements fluid, and sat beside him on the tarp.
Her eyes, though tired, were sharp. "I'm fine. That chloroform was strong." She looked around the bare, cold room.
"Krishna, this wasn't random. They didn't take us by accident.
"Krishna looked at her, his mind still reeling.
"Do you know why we were kidnapped?
" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.Radha nodded, her expression hardening with a grim certainty.
"Yes. It's related to my mother and her company. They're on the verge of making a cure for cancer. A medicine which can cure cancer completely.
"Krishna blinked. A cure for cancer?
He thought of the endless news reports, the staggering statistics, the quiet suffering of friends and neighbors.
"A cure? For cancer?"
Krishna blinked. A cure for cancer? He thought of the endless news reports, the staggering statistics, the quiet suffering of friends and neighbors.
"A cure? For cancer?""A real one," Radha confirmed, her voice low and steady, "not just treatments.
But some people—
people who make billions every year from chemotherapy and endless treatments—they can't let a true cure come out.
It would destroy their entire profit machine." She took a deep breath, her eyes suddenly fierce.
"Think about it, Krishna.
They are actively suppressing a cure that could save millions, millions, of lives.
People are dying every single day because this medicine exists, but it won't be released.
Their suffering, their pain, their deaths… it's all because letting people live free of cancer would be bad for business.
Radha's gaze was distant, her eyes fixed on something Krishna couldn't see, a pain etched into her features that seemed far older than her years.
"It's not just 'letting them die,' Krishna. It's an entire system built on it.
" She took a deep breath, gathering herself. "You see the world through statistics, through facts and figures sometimes, right? Let me give you some.
"She began to speak, her voice low and steady, painting a grim picture of the global health industry.
"The chemotherapy market alone is astronomical. Right now, in 2024, it's worth over ten billion dollars.
And it's only growing. By 2031, they predict it will reach over eighteen billion dollars. Eighteen billion dollars spent annually on treatments that, in many cases, are just managing the disease, not curing it."
Krishna absorbed the numbers, picturing the vast sums of money. He tried to reconcile it with the image of a suffering patient, a desperate family. "That's… a lot of money. For treatments."
"It's more than just treatments," Radha continued, her voice gaining a sharp edge.
"The entire field of oncology – cancer drugs – is one of the most profitable sectors in the world.
In 2021, sales for cancer drugs hit a staggering $176 billion.
That's more than double what was made from vaccines in the same year.
Think about that. The world spends twice as much on trying to keep cancer patients alive, often just barely, as they do on preventing disease through vaccines."
Krishna felt a knot tighten in his stomach. Vaccines, meant to prevent suffering, were dwarfed by the massive industry dedicated to treating a disease that, according to her, had a solution. "So… they know they could stop it?
""Maybe they know ," Radha say, her voice heavy with certainty.
"There are companies, like Roche, raking in nearly 320 billion.
This isn't just about medical research; it's a global economic engine fueled by sickness. A cure would dismantle that engine.
It would mean far less profit."
Krishna stared at her, the cold figures she'd mentioned earlier echoing in his mind.
"But… the chemotherapy market. That's billions. If one top company developed the cure, wouldn't they make massive profits anyway? Enough to satisfy anyone?" He was thinking like a human, calculating incentive.
Radha gave a humorless smile. "That's what you think, because you're still thinking about human greed in terms of one person getting rich. But this isn't one person, Krishna.
This is a machine. It's an ecosystem.
" She took a breath, her eyes locking onto his, suddenly fierce. "You are right that a company could profit.
But only if they stood alone. If one company tried to release a cure that made their competitors obsolete, the entire structure collapses. The other pharmaceutical giants—Rocheh, Merckh, Phfizer, all of them—they wouldn't just sit back.
They'd unite against that one company at all costs.
They will have same interest. Which is to protect their income source.
"She emphasized the dangKer with a sweeping gesture that encompassed the entire, grim room.
"Imagine yourself, Krishna.
You're smart, you're strong now, but imagine you have to fight fifty trained killers at once, all trying to stop you from speaking one sentence.
That's the reality. They don't fight fair.
They fight to destroy the threat. A single company releasing a cure would be instantly obliterated by the weight of the combined industry.
It's easier for everyone to keep profiting from the current, slow-moving tragedy than to risk the entire system by introducing a solution."
Krishna leaned back, the cold logic of her statement hitting him hard. It wasn't simple villainy; it was economic self-preservation on a massive, cruel scale.
"So, it's not about one bad guy. It's about the whole structure being rotten.
""Yes," Radha confirmed, the relief of having him finally see the scope of the problem evident in her voice.
"It's one versus fifty. And the fifty have trillions of dollars and control over the laws that govern medicine.
That's where we are fighting now.
Suddenly, a sharp clang, like heavy metal hitting metal, echoed from outside the room.
Someone was close.
"Shh," Radha whispered.
"They're coming back."The heavy metal door clicked, then swung inward.
Two men in sharp, dark suits stood there, their faces cold and professional.
Krishna felt that prickle of wrongness he'd felt before.One man stepped forward, looking straight at Radha. His voice was smooth but icy. "Ms. Radha, Mr. Krishna. This was a necessary stop. Your mother was… reasonable.
Cooperated with us , and this ends quietly."
He held up a tablet, showing legal documents with signatures already attached.
Radha looked stricken, but she gave a small, defeated nod.
Krishna understood immediately: they had signed something to buy their freedom, likely burying the cure for now. He thought of all those countless lives, all those families devastated by cancer, all lost because of this cold calculation.
The men led them out of the grim room and into a sterile hallway, then ushered them toward a waiting van.
The drive was silent, tense.Finally, the van stopped. The engine cut out.
The doors opened, and Krishna stepped out onto soft, well-kept grass.
They were at the gates of an enormous villa, the kind of place that only belonged in movies.
As the kidnappers sped away without a backward glance, floodlights instantly snapped on, bathing the area in sharp white light.
Security guards seemed to materialize from the shadows, armed but instantly recognizing Radha.
"Miss Radha! Thank God you're safe." The lead guard exclaimed, rushing forward.Immediately, Krishna and Radha were ushered past the huge, wrought-iron gates and into the warmth of the huge house.
As they entered the main hall, Krishna stopped dead, his jaw slackening slightly. The foyer was massive—marble floors, high ceilings, and expensive art everywhere.This is a billionaire's house, he thought, feeling suddenly dwarfed. So much money.
Before they could take another step, Radha's parents rushed in, worry staining their faces.
Radha's mother immediately ran to her daughter, hugging her tight and checking her all over. Seeing no visible injuries, relief washed over her face.
"Oh, Radha! Are you alright, my dear?
"Her eyes then fell on Krishna. She saw the dark, ugly bruise blooming large on his temple, a sharp reminder of the violence he'd endured trying to protect her.
A look of deep guilt crossed her face.
"Oh, Krishna, you poor boy. You got hurt because of this mess.
Are you truly okay?
"Krishna forced a smile. "It's just a scrape, Aunt. I'm fine."
Radha's father stood back slightly, observing Krishna.
He looked him up and down, studying him clearly, but his expression held no judgment about Krishna's simple clothes or background.
He just looked like a man sizing up a situation.
He nodded toward the dining room. "Come in, both of you.
Dinner is ready. You both need to eat."
To be continue.