"What's impossible?"
Elías Mendoza looked at Eduardo Jun Pérez as if he were looking at a circus clown.
"In a duel between the effectiveness of our two products, the Neotex Norte mechanical prosthesis surpasses that of Autobock USA in every way."
"The outcome is decided. Please, Autobock, fulfill the bet. Do you want to deposit the 50 million pesos in my account or pay in cash?"
"You don't want to default on your debt, do you?"
No sooner had Elías finished speaking than a swarm of reporters, still fired up by the excitement of the event, began shouting from the back:
"Mr. Jun Pérez! When the bet was sealed, you asked us, the press, to be witnesses."
"You assured us that the loser would keep his word. Now that Autobock has lost, are you going to back down?"
"Have some dignity. You're an American company." Don't tarnish your international reputation!
The comments rained down like daggers, and Eduardo's face turned purple. Shame and anger mingled. But he gritted his teeth and roared:
"We're the leading company in the industry! Thirty years developing smart prosthetics. Our XY441 model took ten years, hundreds of millions of dollars in research, and a team of thousands of engineers working day and night!"
"How the hell can there be a prosthesis more advanced than ours?"
"It must be fake!"
He pointed an accusing finger at Elías.
"Not even Autobock has managed to create a prosthesis that eliminates phantom limb pain, much less a second-rate Mexican company like yours!"
"I swear this is fake! That video they showed is fake! It's a pure special effect."
"Don't think I don't know how this works. I'm Latino, and I know that in Mexico they're experts at making up stories."
An icy silence fell over the auditorium.
Many of those present were biomechanics experts, orthopedists, technicians, and journalists. And some began to have doubts.
Autobock was a well-known brand. Neotex was a newcomer.
What if the video was really staged?
Elías noticed. The murmuring, the glances, the distrust.
He sighed. Then he smiled.
"Do you think the video was manipulated? Do you need more solid evidence?"
"No problem. Today I'm going to show you the true strength of Neotex Norte."
Elías called Benjamín Soto, also known as Benja, the security guard who received the first Águila V1 prosthesis.
Benja took the stage.
Without help, without preamble, he took out some chopsticks and began moving bean seeds from one plate to another.
Then, he took out a needle and thread and threaded it as if it were nothing, with surgical precision.
Every movement was fluid, natural, without a hint of lag.
The audience gasped.
Many began to murmur:
"My God, this prosthesis... it's like that hand has been reborn!"
"Where do they sell it? How can I buy it?"
Just as Elías turned to Eduardo to demand that he keep his promise, Eduardo burst out laughing hysterically.
"I can't take it anymore, Mendoza! You're the most deceitful Mexican I've ever met. This is pure theater."
"Your cheap trick only fools other Mexicans, but not us Americans."
Elías frowned.
"What's your problem now?"
Eduardo snorted contemptuously.
"Do you think having an able-bodied guy perform fine movements proves anything? I can do it too."
"My arms also have Ottobock prostheses, and no one can tell!"
That's when Elías understood. Eduardo thought Benja was an actor. That he'd never lost a hand.
He sighed deeply.
He took out his tablet and looked up the surgical video of Benja's prosthesis being installed.
But before he could play it, Benja exploded.
"Enough with this nonsense! I'm NOT lying! I'm NOT a normal person! I did lose a hand!"
"And I'm not acting. This prosthesis was fitted by Neotex, and thanks to it, I'm back to life."
Eduardo shouted from the other end:
"Lie! You don't have scars, you're faking. This is a fraud!"
Benja, with the rage suppressed by years of pain, rolled up his right arm.
"LOOK! Here's the stitching! Here are the stitches!"
Everyone clearly saw the white line of the medical graft on his upper arm.
The cameras focused.
The murmurs turned to gasps of amazement.
Eduardo didn't give up.
"Of course, of course! They even staged that. He probably went to the hospital just to get those stitches. This is a staged scene!"
"Look closely! There can't be such advanced technology! There's no way that hand is a prosthesis!"
The audience looked at Benja's hands again. They were practically identical.
There were no wires. No exposed metal parts. No visible differences.
And that was precisely the point.
"They're normal hands!" shouted one of the audience. "They can't be prosthetics!"
"They're fooling us!"
"They're using us!"
Benja, on the verge of emotional collapse, cried out with tears in his eyes:
"I'm NOT lying! This is a mechanical prosthesis! They put it in after I lost my arm ten years ago!"
Eduardo yelled at him:
"How do you prove it?"
Benja was silent for a second. Then, determinedly, he said:
"I'm going to take off my prosthesis right here, in front of everyone!"
The room shook.
Benja raised his arm and began searching for the connector's release point.
But before he could unclip, Elias held his arm firmly.
"No, Benja. You don't need to hurt yourself to prove anything to anyone."
"I have a better way to show them this technology is real."