Building a Business Empire with my Technological System

Chapter 199: The Kidnapped Doctor

Dr. Villanueva groaned as he slowly regained consciousness, the dull ache at the back of his head throbbing insistently. His eyes fluttered open, squinting against the harsh glare of a single flickering bulb that hung overhead. The surroundings blurred into focus, revealing a stark, dimly lit warehouse with exposed beams and dusty concrete floors.

As he tried to move, he realized his wrists and ankles were tightly bound with zip ties, securing him to a rickety metal chair. The coolness of the metal seeped through his thin shirt, sending a shiver down his spine. His mouth was dry, his lips parched, and every small movement sent waves of pain radiating from his head.

Around him, the warehouse was ominously quiet, save for the distant sound of dripping water and the occasional scurrying of rats. The air was musty, filled with the smell of mildew and old machinery oil, hinting at the long disuse of the place.

Trying to piece together the events that led him here, Dr. Villanueva remembered the abrupt attack in the parking lot, the shadowy figure, and the sudden, sharp impact before everything went black. His heart rate picked up as the reality of his situation sank in—abducted, alone, and in an unknown location.

His thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. The echo of boots on concrete grew louder, signaling the arrival of someone—or some people—into the room. Dr. Villanueva tensed, his eyes straining in the dim light to make out any details that could tell him more about his captors or their intentions.

"It seems that you are awake," said the deep voice of a man standing at the edge of the light's reach. Dr. Villanueva tried to focus on the figure, but the brightness of the bulb above cast shadows over the man's features, making him difficult to discern clearly.

"You've had quite the evening," the man continued, stepping closer. His footsteps echoed through the empty warehouse, and he stopped just outside the circle of light, remaining an indistinct silhouette. He wore heavy boots, and the faint light glinted off something metallic—perhaps a belt buckle or a tool hanging from his waist.

Dr. Villanueva's throat felt painfully dry as he attempted to speak.

"Who are you? What do you want from me?" His voice came out as a hoarse whisper.

The man chuckled. "We'll get to that. First, let's make sure you're more... comfortable."

He clapped his hands twice, and another figure emerged from the shadows, approaching Dr. Villanueva with a glass of water.

The second figure, more slender than the first, placed the glass carefully on a small table beside Dr. Villanueva. He was careful not to get too close or make any sudden moves that might startle the captive.

"Drink," he instructed, nudging the glass closer with a gentle push.

With his hands bound, Dr. Villanueva struggled to maneuver his head to sip from the glass.

Observing his difficulty, the slender man sighed, he lifted the glass and then poured it over Villanueva's head. The cold water cascaded down his face and neck, shocking him back to fuller alertness, but also leaving him shivering and more uncomfortable than before.

The slender man pulled back, a slight smirk crossing his face as he observed the effect of his action.

"Sorry about that," he said mockingly, "I guess you needed a bit more waking up."

Dr. Villanueva, drenched and cold, glared at his captors.

"What do you want?" he repeated, his voice steadier now despite the chill.

The first man, still partially hidden in the shadows, responded. "Dr. Villanueva, you are quite valuable to us. Not for ransom, but for what you know about the Medipod. We believe you can provide us with information that is very lucrative."

"I won't help you," Dr. Villanueva asserted.

"You will help us because if you don't, you are not going to like what comes next," the first man said, his tone ominous. He stepped fully into the light now.

"We have ways to make you talk. Ways that are quite... persuasive."

He gestured to the slender man, who walked away briefly and returned with a small case.

Opening it, the slender man pulled out a series of photographs and laid them out in front of Dr. Villanueva. They were pictures of various family members, friends, and colleagues.

"See, we've done our homework. We know who you care about. It would be unfortunate if something were to happen to them because of your stubbornness."

Dr. Villanueva's heart sank as he looked at the photos.

"Please, don't hurt them. I'll do what you ask," Dr. Villanueva conceded, his resolve crumbling under the weight of the threat.

"Good choice," the first man said with a nod.

"We'll start with some basic information. We need to know how nanotechnology was programmed and how they were made. Spout nonsense things and you'll get a taste of our persuasive techniques."

Dr. Villanueva felt a pang of despair. He was not a developer of the Medipod's intricate technologies. His expertise was in its application and operation.

"I'm not part of the development team. I don't have the specific technical knowledge you're asking for. I only know how to use the Medipod, how it functions in treating patients," he explained, hoping to steer them away from demands he couldn't satisfy.

The first man frowned, his patience visibly thinning. "You expect us to believe that? You're the head of operations. You must know something valuable."

Dr. Villanueva shook his head, his anxiety mounting. "I truly don't have the details you need. I can explain its functions, what it does, and how we use it, but the technical design and programming—those were handled by a different team. I don't have access to the level of detail you want."

The slender man exchanged a look with his companion, then stepped forward, and threw a punch directly at Dr. Villanueva's stomach. The impact forced the air from his lungs, bending him forward as much as the restraints would allow. Gasping for breath, pain radiating through his abdomen, Dr. Villanueva struggled to regain his composure.

"We don't have time for lies," the slender man hissed, his face inches from Dr. Villanueva's. "You're going to start talking, or it gets much worse."

Dr. Villanueva, still wheezing from the blow, nodded weakly, desperation clear in his eyes. "I'll tell you what I can," he managed to say, his voice strained.

The first man, seemingly satisfied with this response, gestured to the slender man to step back. "Start with the user interface and any protocols you handle directly. Anything you say, we'll verify, and you better hope it checks out."