Willa handed the elderly man with snow-white hair a piece of paper. "So, about Fl... that Veridian man, the one who's crazy about plants?"

The old man composed himself. "Since that incident, Flynn hasn't visited much. He lost his usual cheerfulness; Elliot's death hit him hard. Later, he chose to stay on campus and even found himself a stunning girlfriend. With her support, he gradually recovered. He went back to Veridia a while back and stopped by to thank me for looking after him. After that, I lost touch with him."

And later, of course, he ended up in prison, tormented day after day, never to find peace again.

Willa's gaze hardened as she asked, "All these years, do you still visit Elliot's memorial when you remember him?"

The old man nodded and then shook his head. "Not exactly. After Elliot passed away, I moved into his dorm room. I kept all his belongings, thinking I'd return them to his parents. But some things couldn't be taken, so I left them as they were."

A glimmer shone in Willa's eyes. "Can you take me to see his room?"

The old man seemed to have not spoken about these memories for a long time and agreed readily, "Sure, let's go."

The dorm was a two-bedroom with a living area. The old man lived in the right room, while the sunlit room on the left belonged to F-Poison.

Willa pushed the door open and entered. The room was tidy, preserved in the style of many years ago.

It was clear the old man held this place dear.

"May I have a moment alone here?" Willa asked.

The old man nodded, "Of course. But may I ask, who was Elliot to you?"

Willa pressed her lips, "He was my father."

The old man paused in surprise. "I thought there was something of him in you. I guessed right then. Child, take your time to remember your father."

Willa thanked him and then closed the door behind her.

Remember?

Impossible.

Willa walked around the small yet comfortable room, thanks to its well-organized space.

She patted the bedspread. The sunlight was warm here. Even without airing out the bedding, it felt comforting to touch. Then, she took a deep breath and lay down on the bed.

This was probably the closest she'd ever been to her biological father since she could remember.

As a child, Willa had been envious watching Sasha bounce on Jasper's bed, calling for him to wake up. But fearing her godfather's displeasure at overstepping, she could only watch secretly. Later, as Diana grew older, she joined Sasha in the ritual.

Willa only watched from the sidelines.

She had always known she was adopted, so she never overstepped her bounds. Even though the Perez family treated her very well, as one of their own, she knew she had to be aware of her place. She couldn't take their kindness for granted or use it as an excuse for indulgence.

She owed it to her adoptive family to repay them in every way she could.

Now, lying on F-Poison's bed, she felt no special connection. Nothing like the joy Sasha or Diana seemed to feel.

Willa sighed, stood up, and approached F-Poison's wardrobe. She opened it to find a few simple, outdated pieces of clothing. Looking further, she found a box with more personal garments, but nothing out of the ordinary.

Closing the wardrobe, she sat down at F-Poison's desk and opened a drawer. Inside were a few textbooks and notebooks filled with lesson plans, nothing more.

It all seemed too clean.

After going through all of F-Poison's notes, which were filled with technical jargon Willa couldn't understand, she took photos to show Sasha back home.

Suddenly, she noticed a gap between the desk and the wall. Something was stuck behind it.

Bending down, Willa found a dust-covered notebook.

The first line took her by surprise:

[Notes on the ST-0 Upgrade.]

It was filled with dense foreign notes beyond Willa's comprehension. But she knew this could well be the precursor to ST-1.

Willa photographed the contents and sent them to Karen, then packed the notebook to take with her.

After saying goodbye to the old man, Willa set out for Veridia.

On the phone, Karen asked, "Willa, did you find anything else, like syringes or reagents?"

"No, it's been so many years; that janitor cleans every day. There's not even a fingerprint left. And there's nothing about ST-0 in the lesson plans or anything. If I hadn't noticed the gap above the desk and found the notebook, I wouldn't have found anything."

"Alright, I got it. Come back for now."

After hanging up, Karen printed out the information Willa had sent.

Vivienne held the printouts in her hand. "Mom, why do I feel like F-Poison wasn't just trying to upgrade ST-0? It looks like he was also recording the effects of the injections."

Karen nodded. "You're right. But back then, Flynn was the only one around F-Poison. Could he have been experimenting on him?"

Vivienne shook her head as she reviewed the data. "Not necessarily. There are two sets of data. The other subject could very well be himself. From his notes, it seems he relied heavily on this medicine. Mom, when you developed ST-1, did you find any addictive substances in it?"

Karen frowned. "No. I had contact with ST-0, and it's not like drugs; it doesn't have addictive components. Besides, if it were addictive, Flynn would've probably died in agony in jail by now."

"So F-Poison experimented on himself? But what did he stand to gain?"

Vivienne set down the data, having memorized it after one glance, no longer needing to hold it in her hands.

Karen furrowed her brow, a hint of skepticism in her voice as she said, "Could it be that this drug can actually change a person's conscience?"

Vivienne nearly choked on her drink. "Mom, you know that a conscience is something you're born with."

"Then why would he save someone?" Karen's question left Vivienne speechless.

Indeed, a complete psychopath like F-Poison saving a life? Inconceivable!

Vivienne lounged on the couch, resting her head on Karen's lap, her bright eyes shimmering with deep contemplation. "Mom, what if he faked his own death?"

"Even if he did fake his death, after all these years, he'd be an old man like your grandpa," Karen mused, her gaze lost in the distance. "Sure, he might still be able to pull some strings in GTO, but with his old age, how effective could he be? Running an empire like GTO is no small feat. And where on earth could he hide?"

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