Chapter 312
Chapter 312
Calista could ignore the world's slander. She could ignore how strangers judged her.
But she couldn't let Ethan someday hear the story of his 'thief' mother from someone else's mouth.
She took a deep breath. The suffocating weight pressing on her chest eased slightly with this embrace.
She took Ethan's hand again and sat back down on the carpet, picking up a spaceship piece.
"Okay. Let's build the spaceship."
Gary stood nearby, watching this scene. Something soft and vulnerable deep in his heart was gently touched.
He walked over and placed a printed document on the coffee table beside Calista.
"Vivian's adoptive mother has been 'escorted' by my people to the best private hospital, with round-the-clock care. Heinrich Schmidt's entire dirty history, including the complete evidence chain from his academic fraud ten years ago—it's all here."
Calista's gaze shifted from the Lego to the document.
Gary continued, "They want a PR war. We'll use evidence to grind their faces into the dirt. They want a hearing. We'll turn that hearing into their trial."
He looked at her, his expression more serious than ever.
"You're not alone."
Calista picked up the document and flipped through it page by page.
Her hands were steady. Her expression remained calm.
But something in her eyes was reigniting.
Not rage. Not hatred.
It was the look a surgeon gets when facing the most complex tumor—
Calm. Focused. With absolute determination to excise the disease at its root.
"Not enough." Calista suddenly spoke, her voice slightly hoarse but exceptionally clear. "This evidence only proves I was framed. What I want isn't just to clear my name."
She looked up at Gary.
"I want them to spit out everything they swallowed, with interest."
She pointed to the logical paradox in the paper where Heinrich had made his 'optimization.'
"They dug a pit for me, thinking they were clever. They don't know this pit is exactly the grave I prepared for them."
She stood and walked back to the study, this time with her spine ramrod straight.
"Let me borrow your 'war room.'" She glanced back at Gary. "I need a video conference with your 'business friends.'"
The study transformed overnight into a true war room.
The walls that once displayed precious antiques were replaced by massive electronic whiteboards scrolling with real-time data streams and public opinion trend charts.
The air filled with the mixed scent of caffeine and overheating electronics.
"In the paper Heinrich Schmidt's team published, page seventeen, the section on 'messenger RNA stability enhancement'—they added a 'tail reinforcement' sequence model." Calista's voice transmitted clearly through encrypted lines to the other end of the video conference.
On screen were several people with varying expressions—corporate titans, tech moguls, old-media power brokers behind the scenes.
These were Gary's 'friends' in the business world. Levers capable of moving global public opinion.
"Theoretically, this model does allow drug molecules to persist longer in the body. It looks like an optimization."
Calista's finger drew a red line across her tablet. "But they overlooked the most fundamental metabolic compatibility issue. This sequence will trigger an antagonistic reaction with a common enzyme in the human body. Short-term effects are excellent, but after seventy-two hours, it causes cellular programmed death mechanisms to malfunction. In layman's terms, it's cellular poison wrapped in candy coating."
In the video, a man whistled. "So they stole your gun, then thought they were clever by welding a chunk of iron onto the barrel to increase firepower—but really, the moment they fire, it'll blow up in their faces?"
"You could say that." Calista's expression showed no ripples. "What I need you to do isn't clear my name. I need you to turn every spotlight onto Dr. Schmidt and his 'revolutionary technology.'"
She paused, her gaze sweeping across everyone on screen.
"Put him on a pedestal. Use the most flowery language, the most authoritative platforms. I want the whole world to believe Heinrich is the next Nobel Prize winner. I want his Renaissance Lab to receive the most orders and partnership offers globally. I want White Chamber to invest their biggest bet in this carnival they orchestrated."
Gary stood behind her, silent, placing a glass of warm water beside her hand.
He watched Calista's profile—calm, precise, like a hunter laying a trap, patiently waiting for prey to walk into its deepest point.
No one knew better than him: when Calista wore this expression, her opponent's fate was already written.
Over the next forty-eight hours, the world witnessed a spectacle.
Under the combined push from Gary and his friends, public opinion took a bizarre 180-degree turn.
Voices attacking Calista remained, but were quickly drowned by an even stronger wave.
'Time Magazine' rushed an emergency print run. The cover featured Heinrich with the headline [Prometheus Returns: The New God of Genetic Science].
The world's largest pharmaceutical conglomerates publicly announced deep partnerships with Renaissance Lab, with advance payments large enough to make any small nation envious.
Heinrich himself was sculpted into a tragic hero dedicated to science yet robbed by villains.
In interviews, he wept bitterly, denouncing the moral decay of academia, drawing countless sympathizers.
White Chamber's plan seemed to succeed in a way far beyond their expectations.
They'd not only destroyed Calista's reputation but also launched their own 'god.'
The International Scientific Research Council's investigative committee worked quietly amid this feverish wave.
On the third morning, the committee received an encrypted file package from an anonymous email.
No lengthy defenses inside. Just a few items.
Medical diagnosis for Vivian's adoptive mother and anonymous wire transfer records from a Sylvanor bank.
A complete investigation report from Heinrich's academic fraud expulsion ten years ago, with original signatures from all involved parties.
Backend server logs from Renaissance Lab clearly showing the paper's creation timestamp—a full three days and fifteen minutes 'after' Calista completed her technical documentation.
Finally, a restored recording of encrypted communications between Vivian and Heinrich.
"...'Gaia's Grasp' must succeed. We'll pay the price." Heinrich's voice was sinister.
"My mother's illness..." Vivian's voice trembled.
"Do as I say and she'll get the best treatment. Calista must be utterly disgraced. That's an order."
The evidence chain formed a perfect loop.
Inside the committee, deathly silence fell.
Every member's face was written with shock and dread.
Without this evidence, they'd nearly become accomplices to the scam of the century.
One hour later.
The International Scientific Research Council's official website posted a brief announcement:
[The academic integrity investigation regarding Dr. Softhart has concluded. Upon review, all accusations against Dr. Softhart are baseless and were maliciously orchestrated and fabricated by Heinrich and others. This council will immediately restore all of Dr. Softhart's duties and privileges, and offers our most sincere apologies for the injustice she suffered. Simultaneously, we are launching the highest-level academic misconduct investigation into Heinrich and Renaissance Lab, and filing criminal charges with the Sylvanor Federal Prosecutor's Office.]
The announcement sent shockwaves worldwide.
Media outlets that had deified Schmidt just two days prior felt like they'd been slapped hard across the face.
The public sphere exploded instantly. The reversal came so fast no one could process it.
And the real 'backfire' was just beginning.
Almost simultaneously with the announcement, Reuters broke bombshell news: [The first three European patients receiving experimental treatment with Heinrich's 'improved technology' for rare diseases simultaneously developed acute multi-organ failure seventy-three hours post-injection. All are in critical condition.]
Clinical reports showed cellular death rates in patients exhibiting a bizarre, irreversible exponential growth pattern.
These symptoms matched exactly what Calista had predicted in the war room about that 'tail reinforcement' sequence.
This was no longer an academic scandal. This was medical murder.
The magnificent stage White Chamber built for their new god collapsed in an instant, foundation and all.
After three days of silence, Calista's phone nearly exploded with calls.
She answered none of them. Just changed clothes and drove back to the institute.
Her access card had been restored.
Beep. The lab door opened. Everything inside remained exactly as she'd left it. Spotless.
When colleagues saw her, they crowded around, eyes mixed with guilt, excitement, and unprecedented awe.
"Ms. Softhart..."
Calista just nodded and walked straight to the main console.
She looked at the screen displaying the flawless original data model she'd built with her own hands. 'That' was the true key to bringing new life to the world—not a poison that killed.
Just then, a video call from the director came through.
The old man's face showed the exhaustion of someone who'd narrowly escaped disaster, and deep remorse.
"Calista, I'm sorry." He cut straight to it.
"You don't need to apologize. You were just following protocol."
"No, I should apologize." The director shook his head. "I apologize for my slowness, for the mistake the committee nearly made. You've taught all of us a lesson. Scientific rigor allows no room for opportunistic 'optimizations.'"
He looked at Calista, his gaze solemn.
"The board just held an emergency meeting. The motion passed unanimously."