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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laden 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.

as she moved. “Isabelle,” George

He sacrificed flee, George

our chance to

In a sudden burst of action, she darted toward their small sanctuary, disappearing from sight

the situation, raced toward their location.

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

their grisly work. And as if one assailant

hinted at a greater threat lurking

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

exposure.

steely gaze locked 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 face to

pounded in his chest, fearing Isabelle might impulsively confront their assailants. Mentally bracing himself for the worst, he watched on.

killers departed, Isabelle stayed rooted in place,

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

wasn’t over.

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

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narrowly evading their purstiers time and

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

away, George took a calculated risk, venturing out to procure medicine and fresh bandages. Upon his return, he tenderly rewrapped

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

succinct.