The progress of drug development was proceeding more slowly than she had anticipated. They were racing against time, and she was under immense pressure to deliver results. With each passing moment, lives were at stake. This was not a typical scenario in which she could work with patience, investing several hours into research. Her daily routine involved navigating the wards, managing her medical team, attending to His Majesty, and now preparing detailed reports on research progress, funding, and experimental results for submission to the royal court. The demands were exhausting.

Her productivity had declined, her complexion had grown pallid, and the bags under her eyes had worsened. She was barely making it to her room before collapsing from sheer exhaustion. In recent days, the scant five hours of sleep she managed were frequently interrupted by worsening insomnia. She had a nagging, unsettling sense that something was amiss.

The disease exhibited an unusual progression. While records of similar diseases affecting small communities existed, droplet infection alone could not account for the scale of transmission. Moreover, the symptoms were more severe than those documented, although similar in nature.

What was the cause? The Sereath district was the most severely affected by the epidemic. There appeared to be a regional component to the disease; it was not solely transmitted via droplets. Yet, the missing factor remained elusive. The only way to uncover the answer was through a direct investigation in Sereath. However, for the moment, the development of the drug remained paramount. Furthermore, royal doctors were customarily restricted from working outside the palace or in peripheral regions. She hoped to develop the drug and then propose an additional statement to secure permission to travel to Sereath. If her efforts yielded favorable results, she might be granted the autonomy to conduct independent research. That was her objective.

'I cannot afford to give up. I must persist. There is more to this situation than meets the eye,' she mused to herself as she rose from her chair. On this occasion, she was unable to retire to her quarters and instead succumbed to sleep at her desk. The numerous papers and folders surrounding her obscured her view of the desk. She had not realized that it was time for the lab attendants to return. Hearing their conversations in the distance, she quickly roused herself.

"Ah, you are back. Please inform me about the conclusions drawn from yesterday’s experimental trials. Have we made any progress?"

"Regrettably, we have not, Doctor," a young man in glasses and a lab coat replied promptly. "The results indicate some progress, but they are far from meeting the minimal efficiency threshold we require."

"Please elaborate."

"Ebichae seeds have proven more toxic than beneficial in treating the disease. While they offer marginal relief in reducing inflammation, the emergence of new side effects—both short-term and long-term—has been concerning. We will continue with additional testing and follow-up observations, but the prognosis remains discouraging. I apologize, Doctor."

Mey sank into a state of despair but made every sure to conceal it. Despite her diligent work, everything seemed to be unraveling. Her persistent efforts and repeated appeals to His Majesty for the approval of costly research had yielded insufficient results. Nonetheless, giving up was not an option. She resolved to maintain her remaining optimism. Although she was not naturally inclined toward optimism, it was the only rational stance given the circumstances. It was also the only thing that could delude her to remain calm. 

"How is the research progressing on plasma transfusions?"

"We are addressing that as well, albeit secondarily. Our primary focus has been the Ebichae drug, so we have not devoted as much attention to plasma transfusions."

"I have reviewed the comprehensive conclusions from all the laboratory experiments. I regret to inform you that Ebichae is not demonstrating satisfactory results in other trials either," Mey stated with a note of finality.

"Shall we then discontinue the research?"

"We might have to reduce the experimentation, as results are quite self explanatory," Mey responded after a moment of contemplation.

"Doctor, does this mean we are abandoning the effort? What will happen if we do? Will the epidemic persist without an effective treatment?"

"Certainly not. It is just the time to shift our focus. Labs A through D will prioritize plasma transfusions. Extensive research in this area is imperative. Lab E will only continue with the concluding follow-up observations for the Ebichae drug."

"Doctor, plasma treatment has not been conducted on such a large scale before. The concept is not fully developed, and implementing it on such a scale is fraught with risk."

"What other alternative do we have? It is preferable to attempt something rather than nothing. For now, we must assess its efficacy, as this approach has not been widely tested. The broader application on a national scale is a concern to address only after we establish its effectiveness. Proceed with your work."

"Yes, Doctor," the group of young researchers replied in unison, and they dispersed to make the necessary adjustments. Mey immediately began reviewing medical records for the next treatment strategy. This was their final hope; it had to succeed. She vowed to devote herself entirely to this endeavor. Yet, greater challenges awaited. On Monday, she would need to present and justify the records and rationale for the abrupt shift in treatment plans directly to the prince himself. She felt nauseous.