Chapter 327

"They're smart," Gary spoke first, his tone as casual as discussing the weather. "They didn't challenge your final data because they know it's genuine, bulletproof. So they're attacking your process."

Calista picked up the coffee but didn't drink. "Who do you think it is?"

"Doesn't matter." Gary looked at her. "What matters is what they want."

"They want me ruined."

"No." Gary shook his head, his gaze falling on her hand where the ring refracted fragmented light under the lighting he'd personally designed. "They just want to slow you down, make capital markets doubt you—doubt the Frost Group's investment. That's their real goal."

Interpreting an academic issue as a capital problem.

Gary's insight was sharp as always.

Calista looked at him and suddenly asked, "You predicted this, didn't you?"

Gary didn't answer directly. He countered, "When you reported project completion to the board, you showed records of seventy-six failed experiments, didn't you?"

Calista paused.

"Yes."

"That's enough." Gary stood, walked to her side, took the coffee she hadn't touched from her hand, and took a sip himself.

"Someone unafraid to show the world even her failures—do you think she'd fear investigation of her process?"

Gary's voice was close, carrying warm coffee fragrance that brushed past her ear.

Calista's heartbeat lost its rhythm again, beyond her control.

She suddenly understood—the "moat" he'd dug for her wasn't just built with money. He'd calculated her character, her style, everything about her into it.

...

The investigation came quickly.

GDRAC sent a three-person team directly to Seaside City.

The Frost Group didn't arrange hotel accommodations but instead invited them directly into the headquarters' highest-level reception room and opened the internal independent data center for their use.

Gary didn't appear personally. The reception was handled by the Frost Group's Chief Legal Officer and technical team.

The investigation leader, named Klaus, got straight to the point, requesting all original records from the STAR07 project's Phase III clinical trials, including but not limited to—

All volunteer screening logs, informed consent forms, adverse reaction reports, and complete files with exclusion reasons for all excluded samples.

An enormous data volume.

The Frost Group's legal officer listened with a smile, then made a "please" gesture.

"Sir, all materials you need have been prepared."

The large screen behind him lit up, displaying a data retrieval interface.

"This is a temporary database we developed specifically for this investigation. It contains not only all files you just mentioned but additionally includes all materials from project initiation to final completion. Including over two hundred thousand internal work emails, complete minutes from over three hundred team meetings, and revision records for every experimental protocol version."

"Additionally," the legal officer pointed to another folder, "considering investigative rigor, we've also created mirror synchronizations of Project Spark Institute's servers and relevant backup data from Zephyria's National Drug Administration. Every search you conduct here will be cross-verified in real-time with the other two data sources, ensuring absolute authenticity and completeness."

Klaus and his two team members' expressions slowly changed from serious to astonished.

This was no longer investigation cooperation.

This was displaying the entire project's privacy under examination lights, inviting them to count every thread.

They'd seen countless companies attempting to hide and beautify data, but never such honesty—honesty bordering on provocation.

Klaus remained silent for a full minute before walking to the control panel and saying gravely, "We'll begin now."

The investigation lasted an entire week.

Calista never once visited the site.

She went to the lab daily as usual, returned home evenings, played LEGO with Ethan, listened to Dahlia enthusiastically describe whatever new children's dish she'd developed that day.

Everything, just as always.

Except the ring on her hand seemed to fit more perfectly each day.

A week later, the investigation concluded.

Before leaving, Klaus conveyed a message to Calista through the Frost Group's legal officer.

"He said in his thirty-year career, he's never seen such perfect, rigorous, flawless process management," the legal officer said over the phone, his tone carrying undisguised admiration. "He also said this wasn't an investigation—it was a learning experience."

That afternoon, GDRAC's official website posted a public statement.

The statement not only dismissed all allegations against the STAR07 project but unprecedentedly awarded it the "Highest Demonstration Standard for Research Ethics" rating.

This rating was the first GDRAC had ever issued since its founding.

The news exploded across the international biomedical community.

That anonymous complaint became a crude joke. Its only effect was pushing Calista and her team to an unprecedented height.

Countless olive branches flew to Seaside City from around the globe. Many top institutions and capital that had been watching from the sidelines now scrambled without hesitation to board this vessel that had proven its absolute reliability.

That evening, when Gary returned home, Calista was in the study reviewing newly received collaboration proposals.

He walked over, naturally embracing her from behind, chin resting on her shoulder, looking at those thunderous names on the computer screen.

"A castle's moat sometimes doesn't need to block enemies," his voice was low with a trace of amusement. "It just needs to let them see clearly how solid the castle itself is."

Calista didn't turn around.

She simply reached out, covering his arm wrapped around her waist.

On the back of his hand was a faint scar she'd never noticed before.

"Gary." She spoke softly.

"Mm?"

"Thank you."

This time, not for the castle or the moat.

But for this understanding that carefully guarded both her character and her pride.

...

The ripples from GDRAC's "Highest Demonstration Standard" rating spread in circles far beyond anyone's expectations.

Calista's personal inbox was nearly paralyzed over the following week.

Names that previously only appeared on top journal covers and international forums now transformed into enthusiastic emails with subjects invariably about collaboration, investment, or joining.

Tenured professors from prestigious universities, renowned ace laboratories, and top medical investment funds—all flooded in.

The Seaside City laboratory, not even officially inaugurated, had already become the storm center of the global biomedical field.

Dahlia was delighted, scrolling through news on her tablet daily, her smile never fading.

"Look at this! What do they say? Good wine needs no bush. Calista is the best!"

Her address for Calista had changed from the polite "Ms. Softhart" to the affectionate "Calista."

That evening, the family was having dinner.

Ethan held his spoon, wrestling with a stubborn vegetable.

Gary's assistant Leo hurried in holding a sealed document envelope.

He didn't disturb the dinner atmosphere, just walked behind Gary and spoke quietly.

Gary wiped his mouth with his napkin, stood, and said to Calista, "I'll be right back."

Calista nodded, continuing to feed Ethan his favorite shrimp.

In the study.

Gary opened the envelope containing a brief report.

Leo reported from the side, "Mr. Frost, we've traced it. The anonymous complaint's IP address came from an office at Karolinska Institute in Zephyria. Through some technical means, we identified the specific user—Lars Peterson."

"Lars?" Gary's fingertip tapped the desk lightly. He vaguely remembered that name.

"Yes. He was formerly a researcher at Project Spark Institute, focusing on gene therapy for neurodegenerative diseases. After the STAR07 project received major group funding, his project was terminated following assessment due to slow progress and unclear prospects. He left Project Spark and went to Karolinska."

Leo paused, adding, "Simply put, a failed competitor. After GDRAC's public statement, Karolinska Institute immediately issued an announcement terminating Lars's employment to distance themselves. GDRAC also placed him on their permanent blacklist. This person is now academically dead."

Gary reviewed the file. Lars's photo showed a standard middle-aged male face with thinning hair and eyes carrying lingering resentment.

"Well done." He closed the file, his voice emotionless.

"Mr. Frost, our next step..." Leo probed, "Should we file a defamation lawsuit? Given the severe impact he caused, our legal team is one hundred percent confident we can bankrupt him, even land him in prison."

In the business world, eliminating threats completely was Gary's consistent principle.

Gary didn't answer immediately.

He left the study and returned to the dining room.

Calista was patiently teaching Ethan how to use utensils. The little guy learned clumsily but earnestly.

Dahlia watched from the side, occasionally letting out exaggerated praise that made Ethan giggle.

The room's light was almost unreally warm.

He walked over and placed the document beside Calista's hand.

Calista glanced at it, picked up the file, and read quietly.

Her expression didn't change, as if reading an ordinary lab report.

Dahlia curiously leaned over. "What's this?"