Hearing this, Leona Grant showed no flicker of emotion in his icy eyes. He said flatly, "There is no cure for the virus. As for the mastermind, even she doesn't know who it is."
Today, he was simply sending her to her death. As for the cure and the mastermind's identity, he never expected to learn any of it from her.
Ever since he'd learned the virus was specifically engineered using his and Annabelle Linton's blood types, he hadn't held out any hope of getting information from her.
Anyone capable of custom-engineering such a virus must be incredibly powerful. Why would someone like that possibly let Vivian Yates know their true identity?
And even if she did know something, it would be a lie. A lie he had no need to hear.
Leona Grant couldn't suppress a couple of coughs.
'Damn it. Am I really going to fall to this virus?'
'And what about Annabelle? What would happen to her?'
...
「A few days later.」
Inside an operating room at the Serenvale Research Institute—
"Shit!"
