Resurrecting the Genius Within

Chapter 447 Death

Isabelle’s certainty rivaled that of any physician, her touch lingering on the boy’s pulse, her grip lim yet gentle.

Within the dim confines of the collapsed structure, a heavy silence enveloped Isabelle, her features drawn tight, a fierce intensity blazing in her eyes, a silent testament to her shock and dismay.

In the desolation of the ruined dwelling, there lay nothing of worth to justify the boy’s perilous quest for two simple chocolate treats. With such precious treasures in hand, logic dictated he should have made a swift return to the safety of his grandfather’s humble abode.

Within those modest walls awaited Isabelle, the object of his deepest affection, the woman he longed to wed. Without hesitation, he would have bestowed upon her the coveted sweets.

Even in death, he should have drawn his last breath within the sanctuary of his home, not in the desolate expanse beyond.

Despite his upbringing in the harsh environs of the slum, and the grim reality of witnessing George dispatch his malevolent uncle, fear must have gripped him in the face of the thugs‘ coercion.

He knew the dire consequences of defiance, yet he braved the terror and led his companion to this forsaken place.

A fatal blow, sealing his fate.

The blade sliced through his windpipe, the struggle evident beneath him, yet he clung fiercely to the chocolate cake in his grasp.

He hadn’t touched the stash of money he’d squirreled away, hadn’t donned the spoils he’d scavenged for days, nor had he treated himself to a new pair of shoes.

The soup George planned to cook the next day remained untasted, the chocolate cake meant for Isabelle untouched. Little did he know, Isabelle had grand plans for him, a life far removed from scavenging, with endless shoes and ample nutrition. to fuel his growth.

Even the innocence of youth couldn’t shield him, a stark reminder of Dark Shadow’s ruthless orin on the slum

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with resolve, withdrew her hand, draping George’s coat over the fallen child. With a steely determination, she rose, an aura of vengeance radiating from her as she strode away.

her grasp as she moved. “Isabelle,” George called out,

be upon us. He sacrificed flee, George

for our chance

plea. In a sudden burst of action, she darted toward their small

the

figure, but before he could reach

as if one assailant wasn’t enough, another figure emerged from

presence hinted at a greater threat lurking nearby.

solemn as he fixed his gaze on Isabelle, who remained concealed behind

exposure.

onto the knife–wielding man, illuminated by the soft glow of the moon. In that faint light, she noticed a small mole adorning his chin, committing his

impulsively confront their assailants. Mentally bracing himself for the worst,

stayed rooted in

over George as he realised her calm and rational demeanour exceeded his

danger wasn’t over. More and

Shadow’s henchmen flooded into the slum from every direction, forcing George and Isabelle

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the perilous maze, narrowly evading their purstiers time

refuge in a modest inn, Isabelle settled onto the bed, whille George carefully tended to her wound. Despite his efforts, the wound, newly healed, had reopened due

out to procure medicine and

prompting

was succinct. “To call someone.”