Chapter 113

"What?" Natasha's sudden outburst of anger caused Quentin to furrow his brows. "Are you seriously going to turn on me just to protect this boy toy of yours?"

He wanted to humiliate Dustin partly because he hated him, and partly to gauge Natasha's reaction.

"Dustin saved my life, so if you dare so much as lay a finger on him, don't blame me if I flip out on you!" Natasha warned Quentin sternly. If he weren't her cousin, she would have already slapped him.

"Is that so!" Quentin snorted, his expression twisting into a scowl. "While I can put Tilda Snider's case aside for now, I'm still very opposed to your plan to elect him chief physician when he doesn't even have the right qualifications!" Quentin argued. Securing power in the company was his priority, and he wouldn't let this opportunity slip away easily.

"Whether he's qualified or not is not up to you, but me!" Natasha growled with authority. "Everything you own was given to you by the family, so if you insist on getting in the way of the family's interests, you're not allowed to blame me if I report you to the board when the time comes!" Quentin threatened.

"Do whatever you want," Natasha spat. She wasn't afraid of him in the slightest.

Jessica suddenly spoke up, "Eternumax's research document leak isn't a trivial matter, so the next chief physician must be capable enough to mitigate this. I feel Dustin is still too young, making Mr. Wangley the most suitable candidate, wouldn't you agree?" She refused to let a naive child hold such a key position in Harmon Pharmaceuticals.

"Dustin's medical skills are superb, so I doubt he'd lose to some dusty old man," Natasha justified confidently.

"Fine, since you insist he has great medical skills, I propose a medical showdown between him and Mr. Wangley. Then we shall see who's best," Quentin suggested, stoking the flames.

Natasha furrowed her brows. She realized she might have fallen into his trap.

Dustin suddenly spoke, "How are we supposed to compete?" Though he wasn't interested in becoming chief, Quentin's arrogance had rubbed him the wrong way, so he decided to play along.

Mr. Wangley abruptly changed the topic, "Competing in medical prowess is too boring, don't you think, young'uns? Why don't we play with poison instead?"

Dustin remained poker-faced, "Sure, how do you plan to do that?"

"Hehe It's simple. Each of us will concoct a bottle of poison on the spot and exchange it to ingest. Whoever manages to create an antidote first wins. Sound good?" Mr. Wangley proposed.

Ruth quickly asked, "Wait a minute! But what if you can't cure yourself?"

Mr. Wangley guffawed, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Well, if you fail, you can either get lucky and survive as a cripple, or die a violent death!"

Ruth exclaimed in shock, "No way! Who the hell goes so far for a duel? What if something goes wrong?" One wrong step, and one could easily be killed.

Mr. Wangley nudged amusedly, "Since we're competing anyway, why not raise the stakes a little? So, up for the challenge, young man?"

Natasha warned in a low whisper, "Don't fall for his tricks, Dustin! He's obviously trying to back you into a corner." She suspected Mr. Wangley wasn't a physician at all, but a master of poison! Unlike physicians who cure diseases and save lives, poison masters specialize in the opposite spectrum of medicine—witchcraft, voodoo, and poison. They had ruthless tactics and strange tricks up their sleeves. If they competed in medical skills, Dustin would have a good chance of winning. But a poison-concocting competition against a poison master was a death sentence.

Quentin spat, "I'm giving you one more chance to back out. Admit defeat now, give up your title of chief physician, and apologize to Tilda Snider's ashes!"

Who was this pale wimp who dared to pick a fight with the great Mr. Wangley?

Dustin, not the least bit afraid, proclaimed, "Aren't we just dabbling with some poison? Fine, it's on."

Quentin let out a maniacal laugh, gazing at the soon-to-be-dead man. To think he had the gall to compete with a poison master at making poison! He certainly had a death wish!

Ruth said anxiously, "Are you out of your mind, Dustin? You could die!" She thought to herself, They have no rivalry, so why is he risking his life like this?

Dustin answered nonchalantly, "I know full well what I'm doing."

Natasha frowned, "Dustin, are you sure you want to do this?" She saw the worry in her beautiful eyes. She knew Quentin was making things difficult, but she couldn't stop him.

Dustin grinned, "Don't worry, I'll be fine. You should be worried about them instead." In fact, he was proficient in medicine, voodoo magic, and poison.

Quentin urged hurriedly, fearing Dustin would back down, "Less talk, more poison-making, Mr. Boy Toy!"

Dustin raised his hands, "I'm all for making poisons, but my only condition is that you're involved as well."

Quentin asked in shock, feeling uneasy, "What are you talking about?"

Dustin suggested coolly, "Didn't you say you wanted this to be exciting? After we're done, you and I will test it with our bodies, leaving our lives at the mercy of the Lord."

Quentin's expression changed instantly. He hollered, "Cut the crap! How dare you compare your peasant life with mine? Why don't you look at yourself in the mirror for once?"

Dustin taunted, "Admitting defeat so quickly? If you don't have the balls to take up this challenge, then kneel down and admit defeat. And I'll need an apology too, then I can pretend none of this ever happened."

Quentin stumbled over his words, anger overtaking him. Would he even have any face left if he backed down? Then again, he had the money and status; there was nothing to gain by risking his life with a filthy peasant.

Mr. Wangley announced with conviction, "Rest assured, Mr. Harmon. With my skills, I'll make sure any poison this punk conjures up won't even hurt you in the slightest." He was confident that in South City, only Dr. Linden Watkins could surpass him in poison-making.

Quentin probed, his brows furrowed slightly, "Are you sure about that?"

Mr. Wangley declared confidently, "Of course! Just take the bet, Mr. Harmon, and I'll make sure to keep you safe from harm."

Quentin shouted, slapping his hands on the table and rising to his feet, "Sounds good to me! If it's my life on the line you want, Mr. Boy Toy, then it's what you'll get! I'll make sure to accompany you to your last dying breath!"