Chapter 409: Chapter 409

Chapter 409:

“You’re turning biochemical weapons into drugs? You have no conscience!”

Ritchie delivered a fierce slap, followed by a punch, venting his anger.

“Enough!” Harlee snapped.

Harlee’s voice was calm and firm.

She glanced down at her phone, watching the progress bar complete.

A satisfied smile played on her lips.

“Done!”

Behind her, Rhys, silent until now, stared with astonishment.

“You’re Quick Cameo?”

Harlee placed a finger to her lips, her eyebrow raised in a playful manner.

“Shh. We’ll talk about it when we’re back.”

Rhys felt overwhelmed, completely captivated by her, and unable to deny any of her wishes.

Meanwhile, in the rainforest, Frederic Ramsey, the director of the research institute, cowered on the ground, still reeling from Ritchie’s assault.

Harlee approached Frederic slowly, her gaze icy as she looked down at him.

Rhys stood next to Harlee, his expression dark and threatening.

“Tell me, where did you send the first batch of test drugs?” Rhys questioned.

Earlier, when Harlee was accessing the data, Rhys noticed the first batch of biochemical weapon test drugs had already been sent out of the rainforest and would soon be transported to Mogluylia.

The distribution was secretive, known only to a select few.

Frederic looked up defiantly, his eyes burning with resolve.

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“Kill me! I won’t say a word, even if you torture me to death!”

This batch of test drugs was his life’s greatest achievement.

Even if he couldn’t see their effects, he believed his followers would revel in their success after he was gone.

Rhys gave Frederic a chilling look.

Frederic shivered, a chill running down his spine, as if a demon were watching him.

Silently, Rhys pulled a gun from his coat, chambered a round, and aimed precisely at Frederic’s little finger.

The gunshot echoed sharply as the bullet pierced through Frederic’s finger.

Frederic writhed on the ground in excruciating pain.

He didn’t fear death itself, but the thought of dying filled him with fear.

To push past it, he wrapped himself in bold, arrogant words.

“Go ahead! Torture me to death!” he yelled, his eyes full of rebellion.

“You all use that gruesome method of dismembering, right? Bring it on! Anyway, thousands in Mogluylia will die alongside me, and I’ll die with honor!”

Rhys looked down, pondering the practicality of dismembering.

Harlee slowly crouched in front of Frederic, her eyes half-closed, a chilling smile on her lips.

“Have you really thought this through? Are you sure you want to keep silent?”

Frederic’s complexion turned ashen, a deep sense of dread rising within him.

He felt certain that the woman before him would do something much worse than merely shooting his fingers off one by one.

Fighting through the searing pain in his shattered little finger, Frederic took a deep breath and said, “I won’t talk.

Do your worst!”

Harlee let out a soft, detached hum.

She then took out her phone, pointed it at his face, and clicked.

The screen began displaying a stream of information.

“You won’t die,” she said coldly.

Harlee’s gaze was as deep as a shadowy pool, locked steadily on him.

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