— New York, Rhine Life Neurology Hospital
In the hospital hallway, Kagura briskly made her way toward the intensive care unit, her short uniform skirt swaying slightly with each determined step.
Her long silver hair was tied into a high ponytail that swung rhythmically behind her, giving her an air that was both sharp and strikingly captivating.
Following closely behind was Cortana, dressed in a black leather jacket, holding a transparent, plastic-like holographic device.
As they walked, she reported the latest updates to Kagura.
"Master, this is the latest information compiled from around the world. The number of top specialists, lead researchers, and tech CEOs who have been attacked has already exceeded 70."
"Thanks to Rhodes Island Industries' big data early-warning system and rapid response network, 42 individuals were unharmed."
"Another 23 were injured but are in stable condition. The status of the remaining personnel is still unconfirmed."
Kagura nodded. "Understood. Increase the CTOS system's monitoring capacity even further. We need to contain the damage from these attacks as much as possible."
"It's critical that the research institutions feel protected. If Ultron's campaign of fear succeeds, we'll see a wave of companies and production facilities defect to his side."
Seventeen hours ago, Ultron launched a coordinated cyber-assault on scientific institutions and advanced production bases across the globe.
At the same time, he hacked into all kinds of electronic devices, attacking top scientists, corporate executives, and key figures in critical industries through bizarre, often unpredictable methods.
The goal was obvious—
Ultron wanted to seize humanity's productivity and technological resources by force, pressuring companies and manufacturers to work under his command.
It was clear now: Ultron was building something—something massive.
And yet, strangely, even Rhodes Island's Argos Project and CTOS monitoring systems had failed to detect any abnormalities worldwide.
"What about Ultron's objective?" Kagura asked. "Still no leads on any manufacturing bases?"
Cortana shook her head. "I'm afraid not, Master. Whether it's Europe, Asia, or the Americas, we haven't found any signs of unusual activity."
"But I'll continue working with Jarvis and the other members of Griffin Security to investigate."
In response to this global crisis, Griffin Security had launched an independent operation, separate from the Avengers.
Natasha Romanoff and Hawkeye Barton remained stationed with the Avengers to assist Captain America and Iron Man.
If Ultron made a move, the Avengers would surely be his primary target.
Meanwhile, Bucky Barnes had already left for Europe to investigate the Global Network Center in Oslo, Norway, hoping to uncover traces of Ultron's activity there.
Kagura gave a small nod, then shifted her attention to the room in front of her—Room A377.
"For now, let's take care of things here. If we're lucky, this guy might lead us straight to Ultron's network."
Ultron's attacks had opened a door for Kagura's counteroffensive.
She opened the door to the patient's room.
Inside, there was only one bed.
Lying there was a man, gravely injured.
His hands were suspended in a metal framework, each of his fingers wrapped tightly in bandages and held in place by numerous pins and rods.
The injuries were catastrophic.
Kagura frowned at the sight.
To have hands ruined like that—he must be suffering terribly.
She shook her head lightly, drew in a steadying breath, and stepped into the room, calling the patient's name.
"Doctor Stephen Strange. It's been a while."
A raspy, bitter laugh answered her.
A laugh filled with anger, sorrow, frustration, nostalgia—and utter despair.
"So it's you, Kagura," Stephen Strange said weakly.
"What is it? Come to mock me? To laugh at my downfall? Go ahead—mock me all you want. My life is over anyway. Say whatever you like… Heh... heh heh..."
For a neurosurgeon, hands were everything.
And Stephen Strange had just lost his.
Technically, his hands were still attached—but they were ruined beyond repair.
Last night, in a heavy rainstorm, Stephen Strange's Lamborghini lost control and plunged off a cliff along a mountain road outside the city.
Thanks to the car's excellent safety features, he survived.
But in the violent crash, his hands had been crushed against the dashboard, resulting in severe compound fractures and irreversible nerve damage.
There was little hope for recovery.
The doctors had done their best, using the finest techniques available, to restore basic sensation to his hands.
Yet by Strange's own judgment, if he had been the one operating, he would've done a far better job.
Instead, those doctors had destroyed what was left of his future.
No matter how you looked at it, Stephen Strange's hands were beyond saving.
He would never again perform delicate surgeries. In fact, even something as simple as writing had become almost impossible.
"I'm not here to mock you, Dr. Strange," Kagura said calmly, unfazed by his biting sarcasm.
"I'm here to ask about the details of your car accident last night. Your cooperation could be crucial — it might even determine the fate of the world."
"Really? The fate of the world? Give me a break!"
Stephen Strange's mood darkened further. "Are you trying to pour salt on my wounds, you little brat?!"
At his words, Cortana, standing behind Kagura, narrowed her eyes, her presence suddenly radiating a chilling coldness.
"Watch your mouth, Dr. Stephen Strange."
"Hmph! I… I'm not falling for your tricks!" Strange stammered, clearly rattled by Cortana's glare.
"If you want details about the crash, go ask the guys at the Lamborghini repair shop! The car probably has more to tell you than I do, anyway!"
"We've already looked into your car," Kagura replied smoothly.
"The onboard electronics were completely destroyed. There's no way to retrieve the crash data. That's why we need you."
Strange gave a hollow laugh.
"And what good could I possibly do? I'm just a useless wreck now!"
"No, you're not." Kagura shook her head gently and placed her hand reassuringly on his shoulder.
"You still have something only you can offer. What you know might be the key to protecting the world's peace. Please… trust me — and trust in your own worth."
At that moment, Cortana stepped forward, pulling up a holographic document and displaying it in front of Strange.
"Dr. Strange," she said, "if you can provide the critical information we need, Rhine Life will offer you a full neural reconstruction surgery."
"Free of charge. I believe that's something you might find… quite valuable?"
"Neural reconstruction? For free? Are you serious?" Hope sparked in Strange's eyes for the first time since they'd entered the room.
"You're saying… my hands… could actually be fully restored?!"
"Of course," Kagura said with a smile. "You're well aware of how advanced neural reconstruction technology has become, aren't you?"
"I'll do it! I'll help you!" Stephen Strange nodded furiously, the desperation and longing in his voice unmistakable.
"My hands are my life! If you can fix them… I'll do anything you ask!"
It was clear that Strange truly valued his medical career above all else.
And honestly, who could blame him?
At the end of the day, he was just another proud, ambitious man, chasing prestige in the ruthless world of fame and fortune.
Someday, he might become a superhero.
But for now, he was still just an ordinary man.
"Alright then, please try to relax, Dr. Strange." Cortana moved closer, adjusting the bed to a flat position.
"You might feel a slight tingling sensation," she added casually.
Strange's eyes widened. "Wait… what exactly are you planning to do?"
"Nothing too invasive," Cortana replied with a slight smile.
"We're simply going to access your deep brain memories — and extract the valuable information hidden there."