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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coat over the fallen child. With a steely determination, she rose, an aura of vengeance

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

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

for our chance

In a sudden burst of action, she

Dark Shadow, alerted to the

Isabelle’s figure, but before he could reach her, he

blood–stained blade, evidence of their grisly work. And as if one assailant wasn’t enough, another figure

a greater threat lurking

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

exposure.

man, illuminated by the soft glow of the moon. In that faint light, she noticed a small mole adorning

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

stayed rooted

George as he realised her calm and rational demeanour

over.

into the slum from every direction, forcing

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narrowly evading their

whille George carefully tended to her wound. Despite his efforts, the wound, newly healed, had reopened due to her

dawn still a few hours away, George took a calculated risk, venturing out to procure medicine and fresh bandages. Upon his return, he tenderly rewrapped Isabelle’s wound as she sat in

prompting George’s inquiry. “Where are you off

was succinct.