Chapter 707: Chapter 707: Drug Trial
Under Cyrus Hawthorne’s piercing gaze, the researchers felt like needles prickling their backs, wishing they could stretch one minute into two as they raced against time, tirelessly analyzing methods to detoxify the new virus.
Those who gain entry into the QY Research Institute are not mere ordinary people, let alone when this cohort consists of experts with significant achievements in virus research.
Finally, before dawn, there was a glimmer of progress in the research.
"President Hawthorne, the virus in Mrs. Hawthorne’s body is very likely a mutated OX virus gene. We haven’t encountered mutated OX before. Developing an antidote in two days is practically a fantasy..."
One of the researchers showed a difficult expression, trying to gain more time from the top boss.
However, when he looked up and saw the man’s grim expression, akin to the Hades Incarnate, he shivered and all thoughts of evasion vanished.
"If, if there’s an OX virus survivor who once got infected and is willing to cooperate with our trial, perhaps, perhaps there might be a slim chance..." the researcher trembled as he spoke.
Unexpectedly, as soon as he finished speaking, the Hidden Guard and other researchers looked at him with reproach.
Everyone knew that the only survivor among the OX virus infected was the boss himself!
"President Hawthorne, don’t listen to his biased words. The risk of trial drugs is far greater than just being infected by the virus. If slightly careless, it might even threaten your life!"
"What’s more, you’ve been infected twice by the virus before, and you’ve only just recovered; if infected again, we cannot guarantee your safety."
"Family Head, we suspect the real purpose of those who kidnapped the Young Madam was actually targeting you; it’s their plot!"
"Please reconsider, Family Head, we’ll surely find other survivors of the OX virus for you soon. You mustn’t put yourself in danger!"
"Family Head..."
The Hidden Guards and researchers all chimed in, persuading him, while the researcher who made the proposal recalled the truth and broke out in cold sweat.
Damn it, why did he have to say more!?
Yet, despite their earnest plea, it never softened the man’s stern expression in the slightest, his voice icy and piercing to the ear, "Mark Joyce, go to the institute’s reagent warehouse and fetch the virus samples."
"President Hawthorne, are you really going to..." Mark Joyce raised his head, surprised, without moving.
Even though he didn’t dare to persuade President Hawthorne, internally he disapproved of President Hawthorne risking himself.
No one knew better than Mark Joyce the immense pain and suffering one had to endure when the virus erupted in the body.
He had witnessed it with his own eyes.
The esteemed and proud man before him had to undergo such relentless torment every six months, or even every month, for the past four years.
Enough is enough.
Seeing Mark Joyce unmoving, Cyrus Hawthorne turned sideways to glance at him, his narrowed eyes carrying a cold warning, "Do I have to ask you?"
"I wouldn’t dare, I’ll go right now." Mark Joyce quickly denied, not daring the slightest hesitation, and turned away.
Even Mark Joyce, who has been by Cyrus Hawthorne’s side the longest, couldn’t persuade him, and despite their anxious reluctance, the Hidden Guards and experts dared not continue to reason.
Throughout the Hawthorne Family and the Imperial Capital, everyone said the Family Head of the Hawthorne Family was inherently indifferent, cold, and emotionless to the core, an iceberg that no one could melt.
But based on what they saw now, the rumors were clearly not to be believed.
...
Pain.
Unbearable pain, like a needle, perpetually drilled into Ann Vaughn’s temples, then spread throughout her limbs, even into every pore.
The pain kept her restless even in sleep, without relief, forcing her to endure it.
After an unknown duration, until Ann Vaughn felt her entire body almost numb with pain, the agony gradually subsided.
"What we just administered to Mrs. Hawthorne was the first stage of the antidote, which temporarily stabilized her body temperature. To completely resolve the virus, she needs to take the second and third stage antidotes. Please rest assured, Mrs. Hawthorne will be fine."
"Hmm."
Two indistinct voices reached her ears, and Ann Vaughn barely opened her eyes, feeling as if someone had hit her on the head, pain in the back of her head, and no strength in her body.
What a nightmare.
Did someone beat her up while she was sleeping?
She felt terrible.
Ann Vaughn laboriously turned her head, seeing a familiar cold silhouette sitting beside the bed, but her vision was inexplicably blurred, unable to discern his face.
She tried to call him, but before a syllable came out, she fell back into sleep.
Afterward, Ann Vaughn intermittently woke up several times, only to fall back asleep within moments, out of her control entirely.
But every time she awoke and opened her eyes, she’d see the silhouette sitting beside the bed, not missing once.
This inexplicable anxiety in her heart dissipated considerably.
The next evening, as the researchers administered the third-stage antidote pills to the still-sleeping Ann Vaughn.
"President Hawthorne, by morning, if Mrs. Hawthorne’s body shows no abnormalities, it’ll mean the virus within her is resolved, no longer posing a life-threatening danger," the researcher said, then sighed, "but even if you take the antidote, the harm inflicted is irreversible..."
"If anyone dares to reveal a word to her about this matter, they’ll bear the consequences themselves."
The man’s cold brows showed a hint of weariness, his handsome face slightly pale, lips thin, yet it did not diminish his dignified elegance in the slightest, "Everyone out."
The aura of authority emitting from him instantly chilled the researchers’ breaths, daring not say more.
Once the researchers left the room, Mark Joyce approached Cyrus Hawthorne’s side, lowering his voice in advice, "President Hawthorne, you haven’t rested for a whole day and night, Miss Vaughn has me and Dragon watching over her here, why don’t you take a rest for now?"
If it was Cyrus Hawthorne’s usual physical condition, it wouldn’t be unusual for him not to rest for days and nights.
But during this day and night, apart from occasionally when Ann Vaughn awoke, he was in the laboratory assisting with trial drugs.
After more than a hundred experiments and drug adjustments, the exact data was discovered, leading to the most accurately matched antidote suitable for Ann Vaughn’s physique.
This significantly reduced the pain Ann Vaughn needed to bear.
However, all the pain she avoided returned to Cyrus Hawthorne, whom he bore entirely.
Given his status and position, he need not go to such lengths for a woman.
Why bother?
Mark Joyce was conflicted, then said, "President Hawthorne, if Miss Vaughn wakes and sees you like this, she’ll surely realize you risked yourself for the trial drug, and by then, it’ll be impossible to conceal."