Chapter 315

Chapter 315

At the same time, in an airtight darkroom on the city's outskirts.

On a massive screen, the frame was frozen on Gary embracing Calista.

An expensive bone china cup was violently smashed to the floor, shattering into pieces.

The warm, elegant mask on Wesley White's face had completely crumbled, replaced by a ferocity twisted by extreme rage.

He stared at the two figures on screen, teeth grinding audibly.

"Good. Very good... Excellent." He forced the words through clenched teeth. "Since you don't want your reputation, I'll make sure you lose your life too!"

Wesley had lost. Lost catastrophically.

He'd meticulously laid his trap, thinking he'd grasped Calista's most fatal weakness.

Never imagined Calista wouldn't play by the rules.

Since soft tactics failed, only hard ones remained.

He grabbed an internal communicator from the desk, voice cold enough to drip ice.

"Initiate 'Purification' protocol. Target: International Scientific Research Council headquarters. I want her life's work, her laboratory, her 'Gaia's Grasp'—all turned into useless garbage."

A hesitant voice came through the communicator. "Sir, that's downtown, and security level is extremely high. Once we act, we..."

"I don't care!" Wesley roared, tearing off all pretense. "I want her to watch what she treasures most get destroyed bit by bit! I want her to know the consequences of refusing me!"

...

International Scientific Research Council.

The atmosphere in Calista's office was completely different from the outside clamor.

Gary had mobilized all his connections to detain the mentor who'd framed Calista years ago, submitting all related evidence to judicial authorities and the International Scientific Federation.

A major academic purge was now inevitable.

Calista was handling something else.

She sat at her computer, pulling up the building's internal security system.

"White Chamber won't just let this go." She watched the red dots flashing on screen—monitoring feeds from various building entrances. "If they could infiltrate the institute and obtain my mentor's files, it means they have an inside agent."

Gary stood behind her, expression grave.

He'd already tripled security, surrounding the entire building.

"I've got people investigating."

"Too late." Calista shook her head, fingers typing on the keyboard, pulling up the building's ventilation system blueprints. "If I were him, after such a devastating PR defeat, the only way to retaliate is physical destruction. And for a research institute, what's the most lethal attack?"

Gary's pupils contracted. "Biochemical attack."

Before he finished speaking, the office door burst open. A researcher ran in, panicked.

"Dr. Softhart, trouble! The third-floor neurobiology lab—many people suddenly dizzy, nauseous, some having difficulty breathing!"

Calista and Gary locked eyes. Worst case scenario had arrived.

"Sound the highest-level biochemical alert immediately!" Calista stood, voice calm without a tremor. "Notify security, seal all third-floor ventilation ducts! Everyone, cover nose and mouth with damp cloth, don't use elevators, evacuate through fire exits toward downwind areas!"

Her commands were clear and swift, like a scalpel cutting precisely to chaos's core.

"You stay here and direct operations." Gary pressed her shoulder.

"No." Calista walked right past him, grabbing a portable oxygen mask and several syringes from a nearby emergency cabinet. "I have to go down. Only I know what that substance is, and only I know how to provide emergency treatment."

She looked at Gary. No room for negotiation in her eyes.

"This is my battlefield."

Gary stopped blocking her. Just picked up his radio, voice cold as a blade.

"Team A, follow me to the third floor. Team B, seal all building exits. Don't let a single fly escape!"

The third-floor corridor was already filling with a faint, sweet almond-like scent.

Panic was spreading. Some coughing, some collapsing, more running blindly.

"Everyone stay calm!"

Calista's voice echoed through the corridor's PA system across the entire floor.

"This is neurotoxic gas! Gas density exceeds air—it will sink downward! Everyone, immediately dampen any available fabric with liquid and cover your nose and mouth! Move toward higher ground or open windows! Wait for rescue!"

The chaotic scene froze momentarily.

Calista rushed into the crowd, quickly finding the most severely affected researcher already convulsing, efficiently jabbing an atropine injection into his thigh.

"Gary, have them open all fire hydrants! Use water curtains to dilute the toxin concentration in the air!"

She performed emergency treatment while methodically issuing instructions.

The entire third floor, under her coordination, was forcibly pulled back from death's edge.

Gary charged in with his team. Powerful streams from fire hydrants gushed out, forming water curtains in the corridor. The sweet scent in the air rapidly diluted.

Amid the chaos, a man in janitor's uniform was moving against the flow, quietly edging toward the fire exit.

His eyes were evasive, starkly out of place among the panicked crowd.

Gary's gaze locked onto him like an eagle.

That's him.

Almost simultaneously, the man sensed Gary's scrutiny.

His expression changed drastically. He pulled a small remote from his pocket, face twisted as he roared:

"Don't come closer! Or everyone dies together!"

It was Wesley.

He'd actually infiltrated personally.

Gary ignored his threats, just gestured to the bodyguards behind him.

Next second, he moved.

His motion was so fast it left only an afterimage. Before Wesley could press the remote, a swift side kick precisely struck his wrist holding the device.

A crisp snap.

The remote flew from his hand, tracing an arc through the air.

Wesley screamed. Before he could react, Gary's second strike arrived.

A clean capture move twisted his other hand—reaching for a weapon—behind his back. A knee drove heavily into his spine, pinning him firmly to the wet floor.

The entire process took three seconds.

Even as cold handcuffs clicked on, Wesley's face still registered disbelief.

Sirens approached from afar.

Personnel in hazmat suits and police flooded in, taking over the scene.

Thanks to Calista's timely response and correct guidance, the entire attack resulted only in a few mild poisoning cases—no serious injuries or deaths.

Water still gushed through the corridor, washing away residual contamination and the scent of panic.

Calista leaned against the wall, finally feeling some strength return. Post-crisis exhaustion, accompanied by muscle soreness, gradually swept over her.

Gary walked over, completely soaked. His expensive suit jacket clung wrinkled to his body. His usually impeccable hair dripped water—somewhat disheveled, but his eyes shone remarkably bright against the chaotic backdrop.

He said nothing. Just naturally reached out and tucked a wet strand of hair stuck to her cheek behind her ear.

The warmth from his fingertips transmitted through cool skin to her heart.

White Chamber had fallen.

Gary had announced to everyone in the most direct way—no one touches his bottom line.

And Calista had finally entrusted her back completely to the man beside her.

...

Six months later.

Early autumn morning. Perfect sunshine.

Outside the kindergarten, luxury cars of all kinds lined up.

A little boy in blue overalls and white shirt with a small bow tie, carrying a dinosaur-shaped backpack, jumped down from a black Bentley.

Unlike other children needing parents to hold their hands, he set off on his own little legs, pattering toward the entrance.

"Ethan!"

Calista called from behind.

The little boy stopped, turned around, revealing a cherubic face—a miniature version of Gary's features, but those bright sparkling eyes were exactly like Calista's.

He grinned, showing a smile missing a front tooth.

"Mommy, I promised Ms. Turner I'd be first today so I can play with Legos first!"

Calista smiled helplessly, walked forward, and crouched down to straighten his slightly crooked bow tie.

Six months after that attack, the genetic disease trigger in Ethan's body had been completely eliminated through subsequent 'Gaia's Grasp' treatments.

The child who once needed constant medication and could fall into comas at any moment now ran faster than anyone.

"Okay, go ahead." Calista kissed his forehead. "Mommy will pick you up this afternoon."

"Bye, Mommy!"

Ethan waved and dashed into the building.

Calista stood there watching his figure disappear through the entrance, a gentle smile on her face she wasn't even aware of.

A car stopped beside her. The window lowered. Gary.

"Get in. I'll drive you to the institute."

Calista opened the door and got in.

"Not busy at the company today?"

"Had a meeting this morning. Canceled it." Gary started the car, saying casually, "About the Frost Group's investment direction for the next ten years. Needs replanning."

Calista glanced at him with some surprise.

The Frost Group's business empire was already solid. Given Gary's style, he rarely made such major strategic adjustments.

Gary kept his eyes forward. "I'm planning to establish two new divisions. One focused on security technology—from physical security to information network safety. The other, a medical investment fund specifically supporting promising biotech projects."

Calista froze.

She was too smart. Instantly understood what these two decisions meant.

Security technology—because that attack made him realize hidden dangers.

He wanted to build an absolutely safe barrier, not just for the Frost Group, but for her and her institute.

And the medical investment fund...

"You want to support  'Next Generation Life Sciences Initiative's' continued development?"