Chapter 267
"But you've forgotten—all disruptive changes, before they happen, have no data to support them. Because their very emergence creates new data, defines new rules."
"I'm sitting here today not to discuss this project's feasibility with you. The Russell Group's future doesn't need to be decided by a vote."
Rupert's voice is calm, yet carries an irrefutable weight.
"I'm notifying you. From now on, the Russell Group will establish a highest-priority independent division, code name 'Prologue.' It will have independent financial and personnel authority, unrestricted by any existing group regulations."
"Its sole objective is to complete global patent layout and supply chain integration for 'biological resonance' technology within the next five years."
He returns to his seat, picking up the project proposal.
"As for profit projections," he looks at everyone, "I can't predict three years, but I can tell you—ten years from now, everyone sitting here today will be grateful they're directors of The Russell Group."
He doesn't give anyone a chance to rebut, directly announcing, "Meeting adjourned."
The directors exchange glances, ultimately only able to rise and leave one by one with bellies full of doubt and shock.
Gage reaches the door, can't help looking back at Rupert, still seated at the head.
He suddenly feels that Rupert is even more domineering, even more insane than Rupert's father ever was.
Only Rupert and Frank remain in the conference room.
Frank approaches, reporting in a low voice. "Mr. Russell, as per your instructions, I've initiated acquisition processes for seven top global acoustical physics laboratories and three ultra-precision ceramic materials companies. We expect to complete preliminary contacts within the week."
"Not enough." Rupert looks out the window, gaze profound. "Expand the scope. All patents and talent related to 'frequency generation,' 'microscopic vibration,' 'biological signal decoding'—no matter what company or field they currently belong to, I want them."
Frank's heart tightens.
"Understood."
Rupert's personal phone vibrates.
He picks it up, seeing the encrypted file Diana sent.
He opens it, seeing that illuminated cell model and the stunning data string Athena provided.
A trace of a smile curves his lips.
"Received."
He looks up, telling Frank, "Tell engineering to triple the power supply capacity for Area B-07 laboratory. Also, prepare a directory of the world's top conductors and their collected works for Ms. York."
Frank freezes. "Conductors?"
...
Two years later.
Strovemont Concert Hall, Swedren.
In the magnificent hall, perfumed and jeweled, the world's most brilliant minds gather.
Prince Philip is reading the Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine award citation in elegant English with a Swedren accent.
"With her revolutionary 'biological resonance' theory... we honor the pioneer of the 'Prologue' project—Dr. Diana York."
Thunderous applause continues endlessly.
The spotlight sweeps to the first row of the audience, illuminating only an empty seat.
Same moment. The Crestholm Range, World Base.
Frank stares at the HD livestream of that empty seat, attempting to dial Diana's internal line.
The receiver still carries Athena's cold prompt. "Dr. York is engaged in deep meditation with 'Do Not Disturb' mode enabled. Your request is denied."
Frank's temples throb. He turns to look at Rupert, leisurely relaxed on the nearby sofa.
"Mr. Russell, this is the Nobel Prize! The whole world is watching! She should at least... take a call?"
Rupert glances at the screen. "Fine by me. Saves on security costs."
Frank chokes on his breath.
He now seriously suspects Diana's indifference to worldly honors is largely Rupert's doing.
Over the past two years, "Prologue" has swept through the entire biomedical field with devastating force.
From Huntington's disease to hereditary retinal degeneration—those terminal illnesses once handed death sentences can be repaired with a single resonant hum of the 'tuning fork' through biological resonance therapy.
With it came avalanches of honors.
Lasker Award, Gairdner International Award, Wolf Prize...
The office overflows with lifetime faculty offers and honorary doctorate certificates from top universities worldwide.
And the creator of all this seems to exist outside it all.
Area B-07 laboratory.
"Dr. York's been staring at this 'Dead Sea' model for three days."
A new intern leans close to Teddy, complaining quietly. "We've tried every variant of the Awakening Protocol. The ecological cycle just won't start. This is a complete dead end."
Teddy adjusts his glasses, gaze focused ahead.
"My mentor said there are no unsolvable problems, only wrong questions." He looks at Diana's silhouette. "She's finding the right question."
Just then, Diana moves.
She extends her hand, lightly swiping along the edge of the ecological model.
No added energy, no introduction of new species—just adjusting a parameter called 'ocean current salinity gradient' by a negligibly small value.
In an instant, the entire 'Dead Sea' comes alive.
Previously dormant microorganisms awaken. A tiny food chain rapidly forms. Energy begins flowing, cycling endlessly.
The entire system seems infused with life, operating on its own.
The intern stares, dumbstruck.
Diana turns, looking at these young people with astonishment written on their faces. "You've been thinking about what frequency to use to awaken each sleeping species. But you forgot—life isn't a solo performance, it's an orchestra. What you're looking for isn't the tuning of a particular instrument, but the conductor's baton that conducts the entire orchestra, the tempo that makes everything harmoniously resonate."
She pauses, her gaze sweeping across Teddy.
"That tempo—sometimes it's temperature, sometimes light exposure, sometimes just that tiny bit of salt in the water."
She hands model control to Teddy. "I've verified the fundamental theory. What remains is turning it into a complete, performable movement. This is your task now."
Teddy nods solemnly.
Diana exits the laboratory to find Frank pacing anxiously back and forth.
Seeing her, Frank nearly breaks down in tears. "You're finally out! The Nobel banquet, Stellar University's presidential inauguration ceremony, and the Ivory Hall technology medal... which should we respond to first?"
"Decline them all." Diana's answer is crisp. "Donate all prize money under the name of the 'Prologue' Young Scientists Foundation."
Frank is already accustomed to this, only numbly nodding, then handing over a document. "This is the board seat transfer agreement you requested, and the research institute directorship transition plan. Teddy will assume the directorship. Company operations will be handled by the professional team Mr. Russell sent. Are you... truly decided?"
"My work is finished." Diana takes the pen, signing her name decisively at the document's end.
For her, creating something from nothing is her mission.
From something to many, spreading it far and wide—that's someone else's work.
Evening, residential area kitchen.
Diana washes a pile of oddly shaped mushrooms while Rupert quietly simmers soup beside her.
This kitchen has unknowingly become their daily post-work meeting place.