Chapter 427 The Edge of Desperation

The pain Johnathan was enduring would’ve been unbearable for most. Yet he didn’t make a sound. Not only did he remain silent, but he kept thinking.

The more his body ached, the sharper his mind became.

Suddenly, a thought struck him. He spoke through clenched teeth.

“Mateo, look into what White’s been doing the past few days.”

Mateo didn’t know why Johnathan would suddenly be interested in some foreigner’s whereabouts, especially now. But he didn’t question it and immediately got to work.

Tracking White was easy. In no time, Mateo summarized what he found:

“Nothing out of the ordinary. That day when North Salem University got locked down, he was investigated like everyone else. Since then, he’s been with Pei Shaomin. No unusual movements.”

“You think he’s suspicious?” Mateo asked.

“Give me his number,” Johnathan said.

For Mateo, pulling a phone number was child’s play. A few clicks and he sent it over.

Johnathan called White. It rang for a while before the other end picked up.

“Hello? Who is this?”

“This is Johnathan,” he said. “Wanna make a deal?”

The voice on the other end hesitated. He clearly hadn’t expected a call like this from Johnathan.

“A deal? With you? No thanks. You’re just like Sierra.”

“Not even for research and development on a new-generation compound?” Johnathan asked coolly.

“A new compound? What kind of compound?”

White sounded intrigued now.

“Let’s set a time. I’ll have someone fill you in.”

With that, Johnathan ended the call.

Draven and Mateo looked at him, baffled, unsure what he was trying to do–but Johnathan didn’t explain.

His forehead was slick with cold sweat. Speaking those few words had taken nearly everything out of him.

Mateo, ever oblivious, didn’t notice. But Draven caught it right away.

“Where does it hurt? Should I get something for the pain?”

“No need.”

Johnathan closed his eyes, his voice trembling ever so slightly. “It’ll pass soon.”

With a personality like his–able to endure almost anything–it was clear just how severe the pain had become.

In the lab, Sierra was still at it–experimenting over and over again. But after several days, she still hadn’t cracked the mystery.

Researchers came and went in shifts, but she never stopped.

Out of every 24 hours, she barely slept two or three. The rest were spent at her station, analyzing, testing, adjusting, trying.

At first, many of the experts had been quietly dissatisfied that someone so young was put in charge. They’d kept their opinions to themselves, only because the “higher-ups” had given orders.

They didn’t know exactly what the Wynn family was, but being secretly brought here, under leadership orders, it wasn’t hard to guess.

Scientists tend to be proud. They rarely respect each other, let alone a girl barely in her twenties. Even with a few accolades to her name, many chalked that up to luck or coincidence.

But as the days passed, watching her push herself to the edge without sleep or complaint, their perception began to shift.

Whatever else could be said, her dedication was beyond question.

There had been some progress–small breakthroughs. While they still didn’t fully understand the compound, some components had been isolated.

But it wasn’t enough. Not fast enough.

Sierra knew Johnathan was in constant pain. She didn’t dare go see him–she was terrified that just one glance would break her.

When her experiment failed yet again, she slammed her palm against the table.

A few of the older professors nearby looked at her with concern.

“Miss, go rest a bit. You’re not in the right state.”

This time, Sierra didn’t argue. She knew they were right.

Her mind was scattered. She couldn’t focus anymore.

She gave them a quick nod, then stepped out to wash her face with cold water, hoping to clear her head.

After hesitating for a long moment, she pulled out her phone.

She didn’t have the courage to face Johnathan. But she just wanted to hear his voice.

She was reaching her breaking point.

As soon as she unlocked her screen, she noticed a missed call from an unknown number–and a text message.

She opened it.

Four words.

“I have the cure.”

Heart pounding, she dialed the number without a second thought.

The call connected.

“Who are you? Do you really have the cure?” she asked breathlessly.

“It’s me,” said the voice on the other end.