Upon returning to the main laboratory, Rilley stopped for a moment in front of the locked case. The two remaining vials were still inside.
For a brief moment, he remained silent, calmly thinking things over and reaching his own conclusions.
The results obtained from the first subjects were promising, but there were still far too many things left to review. «Compound U1» had proven capable of increasing physical performance without causing profound genetic transformations. However, it had also revealed several important limitations.
Cellular regeneration could reduce part of the deterioration caused by continuous exertion, but it could not completely resolve metabolic exhaustion. Nor could it generate the energy necessary to maintain that state for too long.
Moreover, the reinforced regenerative serum was still acting within his body. So far, the results had been positive. His sensitivity to light had diminished, and the exhaustion he felt remained within more tolerable levels.
However, he still did not know how long that state would last or when the genetic regression would begin.
Rilley observed the case for several more seconds. Then, after a brief pause, he turned away and began preparing to leave.
A few minutes later, he exited the laboratory using the elevator. He waited several minutes until it reached ground level.
The doors opened, revealing the lobby of an apartment building with a simple aesthetic. The place was not excessively decorated, but every detail had been carefully maintained to preserve a clean and pleasant appearance.
Rilley walked toward the reception desk and greeted the middle-aged man standing behind the counter. He was the building manager.
Mr. Ditkovich raised his gaze when he saw him approach and welcomed him cordially in his usual foreign accent.
"Mr. Glass, what a surprise to see you here. Going out for dinner tonight? Perhaps with a young lady?" he asked after noticing his clothes.
Rilley was considerably better dressed than usual. It was not unusual to see him properly attired when the situation required it, but he normally preferred comfortable and discreet clothing, especially during his long working hours inside the laboratory.
Rilley let out a light laugh.
"Good evening, Mr. Ditkovich. Nothing like that. I simply have dinner at my parents' house tonight."
Technically, that answer was not entirely true. His mother had invited someone else with a rather obvious intention. However, Rilley did not consider it necessary to explain the details to the building manager.
Mr. Ditkovich appeared disappointed for an instant, although he quickly recovered his usual expression.
"I see. Well, visiting family from time to time is important too."
"You're right about that."
Rilley spoke with him briefly before his watch emitted a scheduled alarm. He glanced down at the screen and shook his head.
"Look at the time. I have to go."
"Have a pleasant evening," Mr. Ditkovich replied as he watched him leave.
Rilley headed toward another elevator located at the side of the reception area and descended into the parking garage.
It did not take him long to locate his vehicle.
It was a black car with a simple yet elegant design. The lights of the parking garage reflected across its polished body, revealing the small GIG insignia discreetly integrated into the front.
The vehicle had also been designed by one of the companies belonging to his father's corporate group. It possessed a precise balance between power, performance, and comfort.
At first glance, it could pass for an understated luxury car. However, its structure possessed high-grade armor comparable to that used by the heads of state of various countries.
It was not an ostentatious model.
Even so, it was a genuine piece of engineering.
Rilley opened the door, took his seat, and started the vehicle.
The trip toward his parents' residence was not particularly long. Throughout the drive, he remained silent, observing the streets from inside the car.
New York continued moving as it always did.
People walking from one place to another. Cars stopped at traffic lights. Lights turning on inside buildings as the sky gradually darkened.
Rilley opened one of the compartments near his seat and took out a small spherical candy. He calmly removed the wrapper and placed it in his mouth.
The flavor became apparent only a few seconds later.
"Coffee chocolate," he murmured as he waited for the traffic light to turn green. "With a flavor roulette, you never know what you'll get until you try it."
He leaned back in his seat for a few moments. Shortly afterward, the surrounding cars began moving again.
Rilley straightened and continued driving behind them.
For most of the people walking along those streets, this was a completely ordinary day. They continued living their lives without realizing how fragile that relatively safe state truly was.
Perhaps it was better that way.
After several minutes of driving, the vehicle stopped in front of his parents' residence.
The mansion was located on the outskirts of New York, far from the constant noise of the city center. The property occupied a vast and carefully maintained estate.
From the entrance, one could see the gardens on both sides, several trees arranged along the main road, and the elegant structure of the residence in the distance.
Rilley lowered the window and approached the intercom installed beside the entrance booth. He pressed one of the buttons.
The bell rang for a few seconds. Shortly afterward, he heard the aged voice of a man.
"Glass residence. What brings you here?"
"Old Richard, it's Rilley. I came for dinner. I hope Lizel prepared that stew I like so much, along with some of the desserts I taught her to make the last time I visited."
His voice had taken on a considerably more cheerful tone.
"Oh, Young Master Rilley. You have arrived early. Allow me to open the gate immediately. And I am certain the meal will be entirely to your satisfaction."
The sound of the mechanisms could be heard shortly afterward. The large iron gate installed at the entrance slowly opened.
"Hearing that has already made me hungry. I'm looking forward to it."
Rilley placed a hand on his stomach when he heard a faint growl. Only then did he realize that, apart from a light breakfast, he had not eaten anything throughout the entire day.
Once the gate had fully opened, he started the car again.
As he drove along the main road, he observed his reflection in the rearview mirror.
At first glance, he did not appear particularly different.
His skin remained pale, and his features still showed the exhaustion accumulated over the past several days. However, if one paid close enough attention, it was possible to notice that something had changed.
His eyes no longer bothered him as much under the outdoor lighting.
It was certainly not an extraordinary difference, but it was proof that the formula was working correctly.
When he reached the front of the mansion, one of the members of the security team approached to receive him.
The man wore a dark suit and had an earpiece in his right ear. Upon recognizing Rilley, he greeted him with a firm posture.
"Good evening, Boss."
Addressing him in that manner was not an exaggeration.
Rilley truly was his superior. That man, along with the rest of the team responsible for protecting the mansion, was under his orders. The security of his parents had been delegated to several groups working in rotating shifts.
The team consisted of former military personnel. Some had retired after completing their years of service. Others had left the armed forces for personal reasons.
Regardless of their circumstances, Rilley had confirmed that they were disciplined and reliable people. Men to whom he could delegate important tasks without worrying about possible negligence.
"Good evening. How has work been?"
"Everything has been quiet, sir. We have not neglected our duties."
The man maintained a firm posture. Each of his movements revealed the training accumulated over many years.
"Excellent."
Rilley handed him the car keys.
"Give my regards to your family. Also, tell Frank he has done a good job and that he should take the men who are off duty out for a few drinks."
"Of course, sir. I'll tell him."
Rilley continued forward while the man remained behind him.
When he reached the main entrance, he did not need to wait for anyone to open the door. He simply placed a hand on the knob.
The electronic lock recognized his fingerprints, and the security system immediately released the access mechanism.
It was not an excessive precaution. After all, this was the residence of a family that owned a technological conglomerate operating at the forefront of several industries. The door possessed precise biometric sensors and a robust security system.
This had also been his home for many years, so his information remained registered within the system.
Upon entering, he saw an elderly man slowly walking toward him with the support of a cane.
"Welcome, Young Master Glass," he said with the courtesy befitting a butler.
Rilley responded with a slight nod.
He observed the man who had served his family for so many years. Time waited for no one, and that image demonstrated it clearly.
Richard had served his family for nearly two decades. His hair had turned completely white. His movements no longer possessed the same speed as before. Even with the cane, each step seemed to require greater care.
"Old Richard, you should start thinking seriously about retirement. You shouldn't spend the years you have left working here. Go out, visit your grandchildren, and spend time with them. Let one of your children take your place. I'm sure my father would agree that it's time for you to go home and rest."
Rilley's words were sincere.
There was no mockery or contempt in his voice. He simply felt empathy toward someone who had dedicated so many years of his life to serving his family.
The old man shook his head.
"Young Master Glass, I truly appreciate your words. The master and mistress have told me the same thing. But my answer remains unchanged. I owe far too much to the Glass family, so I will remain in this position until the end of my days. After that, my youngest son will replace me, and our family legacy will continue."
Richard rested both hands on his cane before continuing.
"Besides, it is not as though the work is overly demanding or as though I cannot see my youngest grandchildren. Lizel is still here. She helps me with the things that have become difficult for me. I promise I will not become a burden."
Rilley shook his head.
"I'm not saying you're a burden, nor that your age prevents you from doing your work. What I mean is that—"
Before he could continue, he heard the voice of a woman.
"Grandfather, I told you to stay with Margaret and help arrange the plates. I also told you that I would be the one to welcome the young master."
Rilley turned his gaze toward the approaching young woman.
Lizel wore a modest and carefully arranged maid uniform. Over her long-sleeved black dress, she wore an immaculate white apron fitted around her waist and extending across a broad skirt that fell to mid-calf.
The ruffles around her shoulders and along the lower edge of the apron softened the rigidity of the outfit. A thin strip of lace peeked out beneath the dark skirt. The discreetly closed white collar reinforced the formal air of her appearance.
A pleated fabric headpiece held back part of her dark hair. White stockings and black strap shoes completed the uniform.
Behind her thin-framed glasses, her expression appeared calm and reserved.
That young woman was none other than the old butler's granddaughter, the same person Rilley had referred to only moments before.
Lizel carried herself with a clean and refined air. Her presence inspired a comforting sense of calm. She was always careful with her words and treated her superiors respectfully.
She was the perfect example of a professional maid.
It was not without reason that, despite her age, she had become the head maid of the residence. It was a position that would normally have been occupied by a housekeeper with a much longer record of service.
However, Lizel did not appear timid in front of Rilley. Her attitude remained calm and respectful, but there was a restrained familiarity in the way she spoke to him.
"Young Master, I trust that dinner will be to your satisfaction. The desserts are also ready. I prepared them exactly as you taught me," she said while adjusting her glasses over the bridge of her nose.
Lizel's gaze lingered briefly on his face, noticing the signs of exhaustion accumulated over the past several days.
"I also asked them to prepare an additional serving of stew."
Rilley remained silent for an instant.
"Is it that obvious?"
"Only to those who have known you long enough, Young Master."
Rilley let out a light laugh.
"I'm glad to hear that. But I already told you to be a little less formal with me. Remember, we grew up together."
Rilley stepped closer and lightly patted her shoulder.
"I will keep that in mind, Young Master. If you will allow me, I will take Butler Richard with me to help in the kitchen."
"Go ahead. Take good care of Old Richard."
Lizel carefully held her grandfather's arm.
"Come along, Grandfather. Margaret is waiting for us."
Richard let out a resigned sigh.
"Young people these days think an old man can no longer do anything on his own."
"You said the same thing the last time you tried to move a box that was too heavy and ended up with back pain for three days," Lizel replied calmly.
"That was merely a coincidence," the old man insisted, unwilling to accept the consequences of his own actions.
Rilley observed the interaction between them as they walked away and could not help but smile faintly.