Suddenly, Rhea teased, "Why so upset? Is the virus inside you causing mood swings?"

Austin refused to let Rhea mock him. She was the prisoner now, and her words held no sway. Rhea snorted dismissively, then her eyes narrowed. "They called you here to..."

"It seems the virus hasn't affected your brain yet," Austin said, approaching her.

"Fuck off! I don't need your examination," Rhea retorted, realizing Alexander had likely summoned Austin to assess her veracity regarding her self-experimentation. Alexander and Mike lacked medical expertise, unlike Austin, a seasoned physician with extensive laboratory experience—a former test subject of the organization itself. He was the ideal person to examine her.

Rhea knew Austin harbored resentment. They were enemies, especially since she had experimented on him, creating the experimental virus. Yet, she felt no remorse. She believed proving experiments through animal or human trials was necessary. Every experiment requires sacrifices, she thought. And look at Austin, more vibrant than before. Her curiosity piqued; was he fully cured? Why isn't there a widespread transmission with Austin? That's not right. I intended the virus to be contagious.

Despite time passing since she released the virus, widespread contagion beyond the Burnwken pandemic hadn't occurred. The country seemed unaffected. Was the news suppressed, or had her experiment failed?

"Are you really cured? What about those close to you? Aren't they unwell?" she asked cautiously.

Austin glared. "I knew it was you!"

"There was a spread, huh?" Rhea's elation was palpable. The death toll mattered little; the experiment's success was all that mattered. Nothing else would bring her such satisfaction.

"Human lives were at stake, you little—" Austin began, restraining himself from cursing. It was pointless; she was utterly without conscience. A cold-blooded woman like Rhea wouldn't care about human lives.