The Lovely Heiress Is Actually A God Beast

Countless people in white coats were running anxiously inside the cabin, talking in different languages from all over the world, all of them wearing translation headsets.

”How could this happen! He can’t die!”

”Even if he’s just in a coma, it would mean our experiment has taken a big step forward. He can’t just die like this!”

”The Sir has invested so much money, and up to now we still can’t deliver a satisfying result. We finally got a bit of progress this time, we can’t afford another incident!”

”The Sir is about to lose faith.”

”If this experiment ends in failure again, with no progress at all, the Sir could pull his funding at any time.”

”The Sir has already been driven mad by his illness. If he still can’t see results this year, can’t see any hope, let alone pulling his funding, everyone involved in this experiment will...”

”You mean he’ll kill us to silence us?”

”It’s not impossible!”

”We have no way out. If the experiment fails, we die!”

”Save him!!!”

”Heartbeat... has stopped.”

An older man in a white coat collapsed straight to the floor, unable to stand. Panting, he said, ”It’s over... he’s dead.”

”He’s not dead.”

A young man in a white coat stepped forward, his voice steady. ”He’s still alive.”

Everyone stared at him in disbelief, thinking the kid had gone insane.

The young man’s gaze swept over them, calm and cold, his low voice carrying a persuasive weight: ”The experimental progress the Sir has received is what we chose to give him. Whether someone is dead or not is up to us to say. If we say he isn’t dead, then he isn’t dead.”

”You’re planning to lie to the Sir?”

”You’re insane!”

”Do you have any idea who the Sir is? There’s no way we can fool him!”

The young man let out a mocking laugh. ”I’ve never met him, I’ve only heard you old geezers brag about how formidable he is, as if he’s some kind of legend. In the end, isn’t he just a rich man who hired us with money?”

”He has muscular atrophy, he invented—”

”Enough!” someone cut him off.

The elderly man in the white coat sitting on the floor immediately shut his mouth.

The young man looked at the person who had interrupted the old doctor. It was a middle-aged man wearing a pair of Gold-rimmed Glasses, with blue-green irises and jet-black hair.

This was a Mixed blood.

The young man fixed a heavy gaze on him, his tone calm yet carrying a faint threat: ”If he’s really as formidable as you say, then tell me—do you think we still get to live? No, we’ll all be cleaned up. He’s rich, he can hire more useful, more famous people—maybe this year’s NB-er Prize winner, or some top student from H-fo...”

”That’s enough. Stop spreading panic, and stop inciting us. Our experiment hasn’t completely failed. At the very least, we’ve made progress this time. Before, every single time, both people on the operating table would die. This time is different. After the experiment, only one person stopped breathing. The other one, although turned into a vegetative person and fell into a coma, whether that vegetative person will ever wake up, no one knows. That is hope. The next surgery will build on this experience and be more successful than this one.”

”You think saying it’ll succeed makes it so? You think that Sir you all keep talking about is still going to believe in us?” The young man in the white coat pointed at the patient who was now completely dead and sneered. ”He’s dead. That means our surgery failed.”

”The surgery wasn’t a total failure—”

The young man cut him off impatiently: ”Stop making excuses for failure. Those rich capitalists never care about the process. The only thing they care about is the result! He wants a head transplant simply because muscular atrophy has left everything below his neck immobile. He wants a healthy, functioning body, wants to become a normal person. We’ve all been practicing medicine for years, so tell me: how much time does a patient like that have to wait? How much patience? Patients don’t usually have good tempers, and someone that rich will only have an even worse one.”