Chapter 1175:

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The memory of Bettina’s relentless efforts to implant such a device into Marc’s brain surfaced in his mind. He recalled the destruction of those very nerves due to the immense dangers they posed. Still, he had been cautious, gathering up fragments in secret for future research. The technology behind those artificial nerves was intricate, like a delicate puzzle that could be dangerous if tampered with. One key material used in its creation was incredibly rare and nonrenewable.

Once gone, it was gone for good.

The nerve Cordell had now—could it truly be the last one?

The thought was unsettling.

Phil’s expression shifted, the weight of the revelation sinking in. “So, what’s your plan now?” he asked, his voice serious.

Marc’s lips curled into a bitter smile, full of scorn. “Trade my health and Charlee’s future for what? Does Cordell think he holds any real power over me?” There was no way he would bow to someone so contemptible. His principles, even in the face of danger, were nonnegotiable.

Phil observed Marc’s unwavering resolve, understanding what had to be done. “Have you made up your mind about the surgery?” he asked, his tone more urgent. “That blood clot in your brain won’t wait forever. If you decide on surgery, I can help! I’ve been working on something.”

Phil’s voice turned grave. “From the fragments I’ve analyzed, I’ve attempted to replicate the core structure of the nerve. It’s not the same without the critical material, but I might be able to create something functional. It won’t be perfect—far from it—and there are risks. But it could be worth the try.”

Marc’s gaze faltered for a moment, his eyes reflecting a flicker of emotion. He glanced down at his hands, now trembling slightly.

Time. He needed more time.

“Let me think it over,” he muttered.

Phil nodded, understanding. “Take your time, but not too much. The clock is ticking.”

gⲁ𝗅𝓝𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘀.𝗰0𝗺 – Next part

Meanwhile, at the Harris family villa in the suburbs, Jax lounged with a glass of red wine, the edges of his lips curled in satisfaction. The timing of the fire at the depository had been nothing short of perfect. With the Sullivan family hosting, such a disaster would undoubtedly stain their reputation. If Marc continued to shield the Sullivan Group, his own position within the company would undoubtedly be weakened. After all, when two parties clashed, the third party often reaped the rewards. Soon, the Harris Group would be his.

A soft arm slid around his waist from behind, pulling him out of his thoughts. Wilma pressed her cheek against his back, her voice a soft, irresistible whisper. “Jax, you’re brilliant. That move to ruin their reputation—it was genius. Charlee’s going to fall hard this time.”

Jax placed his glass down and turned around, pulling her into his arms. He gazed down at her, a possessive gleam in his eyes.

“Don’t worry, Wilma,” he murmured, his thumb gently tracing her smooth cheek. “Once I control the Harris Group, you’ll be the most revered woman in all of Jurgh.”

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