2025-06-19 22:38:37“What the hell is going on?! Didn’t you say you could save him?!” Rose spun around, fury blazing in her eyes as she glared at Franklin.
“I–I… I did…” Franklin stammered, completely rattled. He couldn’t even meet her gaze. Things had spiraled far beyond what he’d anticipated. Treating a conscious Tyrel was one thing—reviving a nearly dead lion was another.
“Well, uh… this is just a… a normal reaction in the process,” he muttered, voice dry. “Now we just need to operate—immediately. We can still save him.”
“Dr. Mark, I need your help,” he snapped, already shifting the blame in his mind in case things went south.
“Doctor, I really don’t think that’s going to work…” Mark said cautiously.
“Shut it! I said it’ll work, so it will! I’ve been a doctor for over fifty damn years—there’s no illness I can’t cure. Now get the anesthesia ready!”
With a crazed yell, Franklin grabbed a scalpel and lunged toward the old man.
Rose gasped, instinctively reaching out—but before she could stop him, there was a sharp clang.
The scalpel hit the ground.
Franklin dropped to his knees with a groan, clutching his hand in pain.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”
Seth’s voice thundered through the room. In his hand, a vial of golden serum shook violently—he’d just thrown a coin to stop the blade.
“Thank God you’re here,” Rose exhaled and kicked Franklin aside. “This hack tore off your equipment and tried to slice open my grandfather. He almost killed him!”
“Please—check on him! He passed out again!” Rose begged.
Seth gave a low scoff and fed the serum to the old man. His cold eyes locked on the nervous Dr. Mark.
“So. You didn’t trust me. You let this clown touch my patient?”
“No, no—it's not what you think,” Rose cut in, voice flustered. “He tricked me! Said you screwed everything up and ran off. That’s the only reason I let him take over.”
“And I called you the second I found out! You hung up on me before I said a word!”
“Oh, so now it’s my fault?” Seth sneered, arms crossed.
Rose flushed, embarrassed and furious. The tension between them thickened—until a weak cough from the bed snapped their heads around.
“Grandpa!” Rose rushed over, eyes wet. Tyrel was awake—color back in his face.
“Young man… thank you. You’ve saved me. Twice now.” Tyrel’s gaze was clear and full of respect. “You’re so young, yet so skilled. Where did you learn—”
“Sir,” Seth interrupted, voice calm but firm. “As much as I hate to say it, thanks to a certain idiot doctor’s stunt, your illness wasn’t fully cured. I’ve stabilized it for now. But to finish the job, you’ll need three more treatments.”
“Then do it.”
The voice came from the doorway—low, powerful, and commanding.
Everyone turned.
A tall, broad-shouldered man stepped in, flanked by the three white-bearded board members.
When they saw Tyrel sitting up—awake—the room shifted. Tension gave way to stunned relief.
Tyrel Enterprises had just been pulled back from the brink.
"Please allow me, on behalf of all 300 members of the Tyrel family, to bow to you. You’ve saved our entire bloodline!"
With a thud, the middle-aged man dropped to his knees. Before Seth could help him up, Rose rushed forward, grabbing the man's arm with trembling hands.
“Dad…” she whispered.
So this was the current head of the Tyrel family—Bryan Tyrel.
"I really can't accept such a gesture, Mr. Tyrel," Seth said, arms crossed. "Please, get up."
"Watch your tone. Who do you think you are, talking to my father like that?" Rose’s voice turned cold.
“Rose,” Bryan shot her a warning look, then turned back to Seth with deep gratitude in his eyes. “The fact that my father is even awake—it’s all thanks to your miraculous hands. If there’s anything else you need, just say the word. We’ll give it everything we’ve got.”
“I’d love to help,” Seth said calmly. “But I’m afraid there are people out there who think I’m some fraud—some street charlatan.”
He paused just long enough. Bryan caught on immediately.
“Don’t worry,” he said firmly. “That quack who dared question you—I’ve already had my men detain him. Scum like that, who plays with lives, deserves to rot in prison for the rest of his days.”
Seth gave a satisfied nod. “Well then, it’s actually simple. All you need is to get your hands on NOVA-4. Once we have that, your father will be out of the woods.”
The room fell silent. Faces turned stiff.
NOVA-4. The legendary serum. Just a single drop was worth more than gold.
Even when the former president was on his deathbed, he’d dispatched entire fleets of agents and plastered the black market with rewards—but came up empty.
And now Seth wanted them to find it?
Was he kidding, or just crazy?
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Latest Chapter
Chapter 94. A Deal in the White Room.
Seth’s POVThree days.That’s how long it had been since I last saw Lucas. Three long, empty days filled with sedatives, sterile lights, and the mechanical sound of my own breathing echoing against white walls. I’d been fed, spoken to, and put back to sleep like a lab animal. Somewhere between the second and third injection, I stopped resisting.My reasoning was simple, if I couldn’t think of a way out, I might as well do nothing at all. I let them poke, prod, question, and study. At least it gave them purpose.I didn’t have one anymore.The silence of the room had become a living thing, a companion that hummed softly in my ears. The air smelled faintly of antiseptic and burnt metal, a mix that somehow reminded me of the lab before it exploded. Sometimes, when I stared too long at the ceiling lights, I could still see the flash, the wave, the moment everything changed.That afternoon, if I could even call it afternoon, since the light here never changed, the door hissed open with its
Chapter 93. The Weight of Obedience.
Lucas’s POVThe door clicked shut behind me, sealing Seth inside the sterile white chamber. The sound echoed in my skull like a gunshot. I stood there for a moment, my hand still resting on the door handle, as if part of me was afraid that letting go meant accepting what I’d just done.The hallway was just as blinding as the room—white walls, white floor, white light. No warmth, no comfort. Everything about this facility was designed to strip the soul out of whoever entered.I finally exhaled, long and shaky. My lips felt dry, and I licked them instinctively, trying to ground myself in something human—something real. But the bitter taste of guilt lingered there.Seth’s voice still echoed in my head. The way he shouted my name, the confusion in his eyes, the betrayal that I couldn’t bring myself to explain.He had every right to hate me.And the worst part? He didn’t even know the half of it.I turned and began walking down the corridor, my steps heavy. The guards stationed near the c
Chapter 92. The Chair.
Seth’s POVWhen I woke up, I wasn’t sure if I was alive, dead, or something in between. My head pounded like a drum, and every muscle in my body ached. My vision blurred at first, then cleared slowly under the blinding white lights above me. Everything was sterile—too clean, too perfect. A white room. A single white chair. And me, strapped to it like a test subject in some twisted science fair.The air was cold enough to sting my lungs. My hands and legs were bound, but not by metal. It wasn’t steel or iron or any alloy I could twist or bend. The material felt strange—warm, flexible, and yet… unyielding. It was like rubber, but tougher. Reinforced. Designed specifically for me.I tugged at it once, twice. Nothing. No give, no strain. My pulse quickened.“What the hell is this?” I muttered under my breath. I pulled harder, twisting my wrists, trying to feel for any weak point, any tear. Nothing.Frustration rose in me like fire. “Hey!” I shouted into the blinding white void. “Is anyone
Chapter 91. The Golden Fugitive.
Seth’s POVThe moment I heard the words restrain him, something in me snapped. There wasn’t time to think, just pure, animal instinct. I ran. My feet hit the gravel so hard that I felt the ground dent beneath me. Then came the sound I’d been dreading, the sharp hiss and thunder of gunfire.Rubber bullets, I thought at first. It made sense, they weren’t trying to kill me, at least not yet. But there were so many, thousands of them. It was like standing in a storm made of pain and compressed air. Every impact jolted my body, knocking the breath out of me, but I didn’t feel torn apart the way I expected to.Then I realized why.My skin didn’t bruise.Each hit produced a faint metallic echo, a vibration I could feel down to my bones. I glanced at my arm while running and saw the faint shimmer of gold flicker across it beneath the moonlight. My blood, the thing that had terrified me since I woke up wasn’t just for decoration. It was protection. My body had turned into something else.The s
Chapter 90. The Breakout.
Seth’s POVI’d lost track of how many days I’d been in this sterile white box they called a recovery room. Could’ve been five, maybe ten. The food always arrived on schedule, usually tasteless mush delivered by a faceless guard who never looked me in the eye. The doctor supposedly advised against any physical activity or external exposure, whatever the hell that meant. They called it precaution. I called it what it really was... captivity.At first, I didn’t care. My body was still healing, still... changing. My reflection had become something I barely recognized. Golden veins that pulsed faintly beneath my skin. Eyes that shimmered like liquefied metal when the light hit them wrong. Machines around me glitched if I stared at them too long. My touch bent the steel railing of my bed like it was clay.But boredom is a dangerous thing. It breeds questions, questions that can kill you if you think about them too hard.Why hadn’t Lucas visited?Why hadn’t Alex?Why had the president’s aide
Chapter 89. Metal and Flesh.
Seth's POVI had been awake for hours, yet the room felt the same as it had when I first opened my eyes. Sterile white walls, the faint hum of machinery, the occasional beep from monitors that charted my vitals. The air smelled faintly of antiseptic, a thin layer of hospital smell that clung to everything. And yet, despite the clinical monotony, nothing felt normal. Nothing had been normal since that explosion.I had been lying there for what felt like an eternity, confined to a bed that was far too small for what I now was. I hadn’t seen Lucas, I hadn’t seen Alex, and there had been no word from the president’s aide, just food, water, and the faint assurances that I was recovering. Recovering, as if I were some fragile human being, when the truth was far more complicated now.I flexed my fingers and noticed something strange. My skin glinted faintly gold under the harsh fluorescent light. My eyes, once dull brown, now shimmered like molten metal. At first, I thought I was imagining i
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