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,

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

He

for our

a sudden burst of action, she darted toward their small sanctuary, disappearing from sight with alarming speed.

Shadow, alerted to the situation, raced toward

figure, but before he could reach her, he spied

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

hinted at a

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

exposure.

glow of the moon. In that faint light, she noticed a small

chest, fearing Isabelle might impulsively confront their assailants. Mentally bracing himself for the

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

as he realised her calm and rational demeanour

the danger wasn’t over.

from every direction, forcing George

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maze, narrowly evading their purstiers time and

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

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

rose abruptly, prompting

response was succinct. “To call someone.”