Fake heiress Real heroine

Chapter 201

Chapter 201

Quinlyn was stuck here and even invited to Sawyer’s next class.

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As they climbed the stairs, Sawyer muttered under his breath, “Well, I didn’t prepare much. If I’d known you were coming, I’d have made the questions harder.”

The three guys behind them stumbled on the stairs, barely keeping their balance. Sawyer’s class was already the most difficult at the university. The idea of him making the questions even harder was beyond imagination.

Quinlyn’s stomach twisted with nerves. Briarwood University was her dream school, and the special class was full of so- called geniuses. The thought of facing her future seniors made her a bit on edge.

“Come on in, all of you,” Sawyer said, waving them into the classroom. He gestured toward the front. “Stanley, grab a chair and put it here. Quinlyn, stay here.”

Quinlyn froze obediently as Stanley dragged a chair over. Sawyer guided her into the seat with a light hand on her shoulder. From her spot near the podium, she stared out at the sea of faces below, completely lost.

Sawyer cleared his throat. “Today’s special. We have a teaching assistant observing.” His grip on her shoulder tightened slightly. “All of you, the so–called geniuses, are just big fish in a small pond. This is what a real genius looks like.”

Quinlyn was unprepared for the sudden praise.

The class, surprisingly, took it in stride. Most of them knew their strengths and weaknesses–only three in the entire room were true all–rounders, and they sat right at the front.

Curious glances flicked their way, all the students expecting shock or indignation on their faces. Instead, the trio looked smug. The other students guessed they were just too stunned to react normally.

The lecture began, and Sawyer was oddly energetic today, his voice booming.

“Head transplants,” he announced. “I’m sure you’ve read about them in those trashy novels you skim between classes. The typical process involves severing the head and attaching a replacement–simple as that. But in reality, do you think it’s possible?”

Quinlyn was hooked and looked at the presentation on the big screen. She knew this was something serious.

“It is possible,” Sawyer continued. “People have been researching it for years, and some are even preparing to attempt it. So tell me–with today’s biotechnology, how would you pull it off?”

The room fell silent. Most of the students had never even heard of this, let alone considered the logistics.

the top biology students raised her hand. The girl’s eyes lit up with biotech enthusiasm as she spoke. “I’ve read about this. Dr. Lane’s approach starts

to understand it. This approach is brilliant

it successfully

But let’s be honest–calling them ‘successful‘ is generous. Setting ethics aside for a

firmly. Around her, other students murmured in

If the surgical concept was sound, it was just a

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Chapter 201

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turning to her, “what’s your opinion?”

hesitated, then shook her head. “It won’t work.” Her certainty made the

an eyebrow. “Why not?”

Quinlyn stood and walked to the screen, tapping the image of the cervical spine. “Even if we bypass immune rejection, fusing the

Lane already has a solution for that,” the girl countered. “Polyethylene glycol and mechanical

the neurons.”

“That would almost certainly

the procedure worked,” the girl

cadavers,” Quinlyn said

then shut it. Dead was dead–there was no way

anywhere,” a student muttered.

testing was the only way

need an experiment. If science could truly control the brain, the first step wouldn’t be swapping heads. It’d be enhancing the brain itself.”

even comprehend brain development, mastering a head

chuckled after a moment. “Told you she’s a genius,” he said to

was a biology whiz, and her logical reasoning was just

yet. If head transplants truly worked with full cognitive recovery, it would imply the possibility of human immortality. That was an idea as far–fetched as her

end of class, numerous students–particularly biology majors–were

approach the podium, a group of senior professors stormed in and whisked her

her arm. “Come, Quinlyn–I’ve got something far more fascinating to show

to deal with messy anatomy all day?” another added. “The true