Resurrecting the Genius Within

Chapter 450 Joker

Isabelle fixed her gaze upon the monitor, lips slightly parted as she addressed the figure on the other side. “Joker.”

Her message rang out with ominous brevity, “You’re next.”

The technicians efficiently relayed Isabelle’s directive to the enigmatic figure. known as Dark Shadow Chief–Joker, their fingers dancing over the console.

Joker, you’re next

Joker, you’re next‘

Joker, you’re next‘

Joker…

Isabelle’s voice resonated throughout the vast hall, a subtle warning echoing in the

air

Despite the gravity of her words, Joker seemed entranced by a haunting melody emanating from a violin, its notes weaving a spell around him.

After a contemplative pause, he spoke, his voice tinged with nostalgia, “Her voice, it’s reminiscent of hers.”

Turning towards the young man by his side, his features sharp with determination, Joker addressed him directly, “If you desire to stay, then stay. There’s no need to return to Death Gate. Join the shadow team and assume Storm Shadow’s role.”

Jacques answered curtly, “Yes.”

Joker cautioned, “Hold your celebrations. There are conditions.”

With Adrian’s vendetta settled and Isabelle resolving a lingering matter, a sense of relief washed over them, lifting the oppressive atmosphere that had lingered for days.

Yet, despite this respite, Isabelle harbored a lingering animosity within her.

Later, within the confines of a hotel room, Isabelle reclined on the bed, her head

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wash her han

in the bathroom sink, Isabelle relented to George’s insistence, concerned that straining her

since Isabelle removed the stitches, a reminder of their shared ordeal

out of the

rolled his sleeves “Let me see

extended his hand

his palm, her fingers delicately tracing its edges as she held his

George remarked, his

“What a

George inquired,

elaborated, “It will leave a scar.”

so graceful, was marked by

hand over, Isabelle’s gaze lingered on a small mole adorning the knuckle of his index finger.

the

his hands once, but she was soo offhanded with the remark, he didn’t believe it.

noticed the hint of regret in her tone, and he realised

is nothing compared to the one on your shoulder, and you’re a

the air, George sought to alleviate the mood, offering. “It’s a trifling thing for a man like me to bear a scar. If

the days

redirected his hand to meet her gaze, a subtle

his hand and closed her eyes, her request clear,

a fond smile, George obliged.

paying off, and George was definitely

asked, “What’s

paused to think. “The

grew quiet for a

she declared, “Today’s

the truth of it sank in, bringing a warmth

that small house in the slums. She had once asked about the date