Chapter 290

Chapter 290

Next to a row of Aetherian-edition Cell Biology texts stood an inconspicuous silver picture frame.

Inside was a group photo.

Background: SkyDome Art Center's starry dome, that night of the gala. In the photo, he wore a black formal suit, turned slightly, head lowered, looking at her beside him.

She wore a deep blue evening gown, not looking at the camera or at him, gaze distant, her face wearing its usual cool composure.

The candid angle was tricky—like a guest had inadvertently captured the moment through a gap in the crowd.

She'd placed such a photo in her most private workspace, neighboring the books representing her intellectual world.

Lucius's fingertip stopped on the small, slightly blurred photo.

He traced his own image in the picture, then slowly moved to hers.

The office was so quiet he could hear the subtle whoosh of the air conditioning system.

He studied the photo for a long time.

Then he closed the magazine and picked up the internal line.

"Barry."

"Mr. Talbot."

"Any news on that Cicada Wing?" His voice had regained its usual hard edge.

"Still investigating. They're very clean, but we found a thread on the manufacturer's old production line—points to a shell trading company in Sovereign City three years ago."

Lucius's eyes were unfathomable.

He hung up and locked the magazine in his briefcase.

2 AM, dead of night.

Seraphine had just ended a remote meeting with the New Arc project team when a shrill phone ring shattered the apartment's silence.

John's name flashed on the screen.

A call at this hour was never good news.

"Ms. Manners! We have a problem!" John's panic-suppressed voice burst through. "Riverside production facility! An hour ago, extreme weather hit eastern Skyview City—massive hail shattered Building Three's specialty glass dome! Rain's pouring in—the sterile biologics production line's underneath!"

Seraphine's gaze sharpened instantly. "Send me all facility area real-time surveillance, temperature, and humidity sensor data, local weather station minute-by-minute reports immediately."

"Already in your inbox! Insurance company and local contractors' phones are blowing up, but with this weather, the earliest they can send people is dawn! If the entire production line floods..."

"Evacuate all on-site personnel to safe zones, cut main power to Building Three. I'll be at the office in twenty minutes."

Seraphine hung up without hesitation, changed clothes, grabbed her car keys, and left.

Nolan & Heidi Medical Research Center headquarters blazed with lights in the early morning hours.

On the massive command screen, Riverside production facility footage was divided into dozens of small squares.

Building Three's surveillance signal was down, leaving only temperature and humidity anomaly red alerts flashing frantically.

John and several core department heads clustered around the conference table, faces pale, at a complete loss.

Seraphine stood before the screen in silence.

Her gaze swept rapidly across all data streams, her brain like a supercomputer racing through damage assessment and chain reaction scenarios.

The conference room door burst open as an assistant rushed in holding a tablet. "Ms. Manners, call from the Talbot Group's executive assistant, Mr. Jones."

All discussion stopped dead as heads turned in unison toward Seraphine.

Seraphine took the tablet and tapped speakerphone.

Barry's voice was calm and efficient. "Dr. Manners, Mr. Talbot is aware of the Riverside situation. Talbot Group's Ark Construction first emergency response team, equipped with a complete Aetherian-import high-capacity pumping system and temporary structural support equipment, departed ten minutes ago. Expected on-site in forty minutes."

"Additionally, the Group's helicopter is on standby for immediate expert or material airdrops."

The conference room fell deathly silent.

John's mouth hung open, speechless.

Ark Construction?

That was the Talbot Group's ace engineering team, exclusively handling New Arc's highest-classified projects, never taking outside commercial work.

The local contractors they'd contacted were basically village handymen in comparison.

And a helicopter?

"Understood." Seraphine's response was concise. "Thank you, Mr. Talbot, for me."

"Mr. Talbot says thanks aren't necessary." Barry's tone paused slightly. "He asked me to tell you—your factory can't be allowed to fail."

The call ended.

The conference room atmosphere shifted subtly.

The desperate panic that had permeated the air was replaced by shock, bewilderment, and an absurd sense of security.

John stared at the flashing red alerts on screen, then at the composed Seraphine, muttering, "This isn't disaster relief—he sent an entire army..."

A week later, post-disaster assessment meeting.

The conference room atmosphere was heavy.

John stood before the screen, reporting final damage statistics.

"Thanks to timely intervention by the Talbot Group emergency team, they contained the crisis in the critical core areas within the golden two-hour window. Final losses were controlled to fifteen percent of projections."

"Major equipment was preserved—only some peripheral piping and facility structures need repair. Ark Construction's team completed all risk mitigation and reinforcement work in just three days. Their efficiency was staggering."

John's tone carried both the relief of narrowly escaping disaster and awe at that terrifying execution capability.

Everyone's eyes turned to Lucius, who was sitting in on the meeting.

He sat beside Seraphine, hadn't spoken from start to finish, like a disinterested observer.

When the report ended, it was Seraphine's turn.

She stood, pulling up a planning map of eastern Skyview City's new district directly on screen.

"This incident exposed the fragility of our current production layout."

Her voice wasn't loud, but it was clear. "A single, isolated production facility has too much risk exposure when facing force majeure."

She tapped the screen. "I've decided to cancel the planned Phase Two expansion at Riverside."

Her words dropped like a bomb.

Phase Two expansion was the company's most critical strategic deployment for the next five years, tied to doubling production capacity and launching new product lines. How could it just be canceled?

Before anyone could question, Seraphine's fingertip swept across the map.

An area circled in red lines zoomed in.

"In its place, we're launching the Nest Project."

Every eye focused on that red circle.

That area was unmistakably the Talbot Group's fully enclosed high-tech industrial park in East Harbor.

"We'll build Nolan & Heidi Medical's next-generation super-facility inside the Talbot Group industrial park. The new factory will share the park's security systems, logistics networks, data centers, and..." Seraphine's gaze swept almost imperceptibly past Lucius beside her, "power supply."

The conference room was utterly silent.

Everyone understood.

This wasn't a simple relocation plan.

This was an announcement that Nolan & Heidi Medical Research Center—this independently risen tech giant—would voluntarily surrender some of its independence, placing its most critical production lifeline...

The entire 'nest'... inside the Talbot Group's massive steel fortress.

This was a huge strategic pivot, and even more—a gesture.

It meant trust. It meant binding. It meant completely exposing one's back to an ally.

John's breathing stopped.

He looked at Seraphine, then stole a glance at Lucius, his heart pounding.

He felt like he was witnessing a moment that could reshape the entire industry landscape.

Every gaze eventually converged on Lucius.