CHAPTER 68: STARTING EXPLORATION

He sat down and opened his phone, tapping through a few apps to pass the time. Notifications came and went, but his mind kept circling back to the idea he’d mentioned earlier. This concept, creating something that could assist patients or people with disabilities. Felt like it was worth pursuing.

A few minutes later, he heard quick footsteps approaching. Mike returned, both hands full with shopping bags. "All set, Boss," he said with a smile.

Alaric stood up, adjusted the bags in his hands, and walked out of the supermarket with calm, steady steps. Behind him, Mike followed at the same pace, careful not to let anything slip. Together, they headed toward the car waiting in the parking lot.

Before getting in, Alaric paused and turned slightly, casting a glance back at the busy entrance of the supermarket. The noise of carts, chatter, and the hum of daily life filled the air. He took a quiet breath, almost as if he were drawing in the energy around him. Anchoring his thoughts, focusing his mind.

The idea was still there, floating just beneath the surface. Not fully formed yet, but insistent.

A project to build something meaningful. Not just another piece of technology, but a tool that could make recovery easier for someone, give peace of mind to families, and reduce the burden of caregiving—especially when human help wasn’t always available.

As the car door opened and he settled into his seat, Alaric’s gaze grew more distant, thoughtful. The weight of the bags in the back seat felt light compared to the plan now taking shape in his head.

This wasn’t just about errands anymore. It was about direction.

And Alaric knew, today might just be the beginning of something far bigger than he expected.

In the quiet of his workspace, Alaric stared at the glowing computer screen in front of him. His fingers moved swiftly, capturing every idea that came to mind, line after line of concepts emerging as quickly as lightning bolts, which he tried to catch and redraw.

This time, it wasn’t about a competition or a small office efficiency project. It was something much bigger: a nurse robot.

Ever since his encounter with an elderly man in a wheelchair days ago, the seed of the idea had taken root in his thoughts. He imagined a machine with specialized capabilities to assist the sick, to watch over them tirelessly, and to ensure every need was met without missing a beat.

"This could truly be an extra hand for those in fragile conditions. It could even help care for the elderly," he murmured.

He wrote it all down: how the sensor system needed to be sensitive enough to detect changes in a patient’s condition, how the robot should be able to read body language and facial expressions, and how its operation must be adaptable to the specific needs of each individual.

He even noted down the finer details: the height of the robot, the texture of its surface to ensure it didn’t feel rigid when touching human skin, and the integration of AI capable of distinguishing between emergency needs and routine care.

But the more he wrote, the more complex the framework became. As he sketched the schematics on the screen, the structure branched out in every direction. Software requirements, hardware configurations, medical-grade sensors, safety mechanism. All interconnected, all demanding precision.

Alaric paused for a moment, leaning back in his chair and gazing up at the ceiling. He realized that there was no way he could pull this off alone. A project this complex, if forced, would only drain time and energy, and perhaps fail before it could ever be properly tested.

"Technology is always about continuous refinement," he reminded himself.

"Nothing is perfect from the start. But if I want this robot to earn people’s trust, then from the beginning it needs to be clear: the system must be constantly improved, strengthened, and rigorously tested."

This is where his thoughts shifted. Maybe it was time to collaborate.

Several tech companies came to mind, ones he had followed through news and developments. One in particular stood out: **Brightmind Robotics**—a company that had recently made headlines.

They had caught public attention by creating a robotic babysitter. At first, the idea seemed promising. A robot that could watch over children, play with them, feed them on schedule, and even soothe them when they cried.

But reality didn’t live up to the pitch.

Brightmind’s robot looked impressive in its initial presentation. Sleek design, convincing facial recognition sensors, and a successful small-to-medium scale rollout in several major cities. But within weeks, issues began surfacing.

The robot couldn’t handle the spontaneous instincts of children. Kids who suddenly threw toys, dashed unpredictably across a room, climbed on furniture, or got into little squabbles. Those moments confused the robot. Its responses were often delayed, or worse, it misinterpreted the situation. Instead of calming things down, the robot sometimes made things worse.

The media pounced. Disappointed parents returned the product with similar complaints: "This machine can’t replace human instincts." There was even a case where a child got injured because the robot failed to respond quickly when the child was about to fall.

Since then, Brightmind Robotics seemed to have stepped back. No updates, no new versions, nothing official except the usual vague statements: "We are currently conducting evaluations and further development."

Alaric suspected the company was now in a state of limbo. Maybe they were simply regrouping to recover their reputation. But there was also a worse possibility, they had realized the system they built was too flawed to continue. Too many bugs, too many shortcomings, and no real solution in sight.

He tapped the surface of his desk, eyes narrowing in contemplation. "If they failed in the babysitting field, maybe... that’s my opportunity," he thought.

Alaric understood one thing clearly: both child minding robots and caregiver robots required artificial empathy. But their focus was different. Babysitter robots needed to adapt to high energy and unpredictability—something even humans struggled with.

Meanwhile, a robot designed to care for the sick? It required sensitivity, patience, and accuracy in responding to weakened physical conditions. That’s where he saw a difference, and maybe a slightly easier challenge.

In truth, both were difficult. But the idea of replacing humans to care for active, unpredictable children was probably a leap too far. Even global experts admitted such attempts were only viable for prototyping next year.

Brightmind Robotics had leaped into the most complex zone too soon. But they might still have foundational technology that could be repurposed—just redirected toward a different, more achievable goal.

Alaric took a deep breath and typed the company’s name into his notes, adding a line: *"Potential for collaboration. Existing data available. Technology can be redirected. Further investigation needed."*

A faint smile appeared on his face. He now knew his next move: find a way to approach Brightmind Robotics. If they were open to it, this project, once overwhelming to handle alone. Might finally have a way forward.

—

That night, Alaric sat with his fingers dancing over the surface of his interactive glass desk, searching for information on the company he had marked as a rich source of material.

Ever since writing that name in his notes, his curiosity had only grown stronger. If they had truly built a robotic babysitter, despite the failure. It meant they had already done some research and development.

And in the world of tech, prior data is gold. Even if the outcome wasn’t perfect, every R&D journey holds answers: what worked, what didn’t, and what pitfalls to avoid the next time around.

"If I can partner with them, half the journey is already done. I won’t have to start from scratch," he thought.

A few minutes later, his screen filled with search results, based on carefully chosen keywords. Pages of history and archived articles about the renowned company appeared. Alaric squinted, reading through each one with sharp focus.

It turned out Brightmind wasn’t new to robotics. Long before their robotic babysitter project, they had launched something called the Kitchen Assistant AI, a robot designed to prepare food in restaurants at high speed.

Alaric read the details with growing curiosity. The robot could slice vegetables, stir soup, even measure spices with precision. Though it wasn’t perfect and was still being refined, the system had seen some success. It was even deployed in several fast-food franchises to ease the workload of kitchen staff.

"Interesting," Alaric muttered, eyes lighting up. "That means they’ve worked with fine motor skills before. They must already have mechanisms for cutting, flavor sensing systems, and even precision dosing algorithms."

"If those could be adapted, couldn’t they be used to care for patients? Dispensing medication in accurate doses, preparing healthy meals, or even just pouring a glass of water without spilling?"

The more he read, the more intrigued he became. He even stood up, unable to contain his excitement.

The next screen showed details about the babysitter robot failure. A scandal that had blown up in recent months. News articles featured photos of frustrated parents, viral videos of the robot fumbling as a child cried, and expert commentary calling the project "too ambitious for current AI capabilities."