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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child. With a steely determination, she rose, an aura of

knife slipped into her grasp as she moved. “Isabelle,” George called out, his anxiety palpable.

be upon us. He sacrificed flee, George urged, desperation tingeing

our chance

action, she darted toward their small sanctuary, disappearing from sight with

to the situation, raced toward

the house, he caught a glimpse of Isabelle’s figure, but before he could reach her, he spied Dark

their grisly work. And as if

a greater

he fixed his gaze on Isabelle, who remained concealed behind the wall a mere seven or eight meters

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

chest, fearing Isabelle might impulsively confront their assailants. Mentally

as the two killers departed, Isabelle stayed rooted in place,

washed over George as he realised her calm and rational

over. More and more

Dark Shadow’s henchmen flooded into the slum from

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maze, narrowly evading their

carefully tended to her wound. Despite his efforts, the wound, newly healed,

venturing out to procure medicine and fresh bandages. Upon his return, he

the task was complete, Isabelle rose abruptly, prompting George’s

response was succinct. “To call