Genetic Ascension - Chapter 162

Chapter 162: Sick
Sylas looked over toward Professor Fembroise. The professor had already mostly dressed herself, though a bit haphazardly, not that she was to blame for such a thing. She had already given up, trying to hide her face and shuddering in the corner.

Sylas sighed and shook his head.

“I know you recognize my voice, Professor Fembroise. There’s no need for this, I’m not going to kill you.”

He hadn’t known the woman for long, but he could describe her in three phrases.

Obsessed with her boys.

Sharp both of mind and tongue.

And surprisingly quite quirky.

She probably felt that her best chance at survival was pretending she didn’t recognize Sylas, and against most people that was enough, but Sylas knew better than to just leave things like this.

After that man’s death, there would definitely be an investigation, and Professor Fembroise would fall right into the list of suspects.

Of course, he wasn’t talking about the police; he doubted that anyone would claim this man as missing any time soon. And even if they did, Sylas was at the point where he didn’t give a damn about the rule of law.

He was thinking about Legacy.

From Rojan’s words, he understood that Lone Star State was a target of Legacy, and they wouldn’t give up after just a single attempt. If even a Level 7 was out of the loop, then they likely had more of them than they knew what to do with.

Either way, Professor Fembroise was now both an asset and a liability depending on how he looked at it.

Shaking, the professor looked up, kind of worried to acknowledge Sylas’ words, but also knowing she didn’t have much of a choice.

The first thing she saw was Sylas’ hand. The next thing she saw was the blood running down his chin, and she almost recoiled again.

In the end, she controlled the impulse and took his hand, slowly getting up.

“I’m going to close the door because of the noise,” Sylas said.

She nodded, a bit embarrassed that Sylas had to confirm such a thing with her. She wasn’t a little girl anymore, she wasn’t going to look at every man like he might be her next assaulter.

Sylas shook his head inwardly when he saw the defiance in her eyes. He wouldn’t have blamed her no matter how she reacted, it was just that he wanted her to cooperate with him, so making sure she was comfortable was the top priority.

The noise died down to a buzz as the door closed and Sylas motioned to a seat.

“How much do you know about what just happened?”

Professor Fembroise gave Sylas a look.

“What is it?” Sylas asked.

“Are you going to let the blood keep drizzling like that?”

Sylas looked down at himself then reached for his nose.

‘It’s broken,’ he thought to himself.

“Let me see it,” the professor said, already leaning forward.

Sylas didn’t really have much of a choice, so he let the woman work.

“I finished a year of residency before I became a computer science professor. The medical profession is not for me, but I guess—”

She paused, frowning. It was a clean enough break and should be simple enough to budge back into place, but why was it that she couldn’t?

“My body is sturdier than most. Is there anything I need to know?”

“Well, it’s not best to do it here in the first place, and there’s usually a special tool that goes into your nose after some numbing, but—”

CRACK.

Sylas snapped his nose in the direction the professor was going. Then, reaching for a cloth, he blew out hard. He could practically feel his nasal passages forcefully making way, and to the professor it probably sounded a lot like an elephant blowing its trunk.

“Alright, now, my question?” Sylas asked.

The professor blinked then shook her head.

“I don’t know anything about that man, he just randomly showed up today and when I said something snarky, he pinned me down. I’m honestly not even sure if he was even trying to assault me or if he was just trying to put me in my place…”

Her voice trailed off.

Sylas nodded, wiping the rest of the blood away. He got up, opened a first aid kit, then stuffed gauze up his nose.

“Do you know what will happen from here?” Sylas asked.

“I assume they’re going to send more people.”

“Likely,” Sylas nodded. “There are two paths before you now. The first is to report this to the police. They will take a great interest in this region now and you’ll have ’round-the-clock security.”

“The second choice?”

“To not say anything.”

“And how would that help me?”

Sylas gazed into her eyes deeply. “How is your family doing?”

Professor Fembroise recoiled, her hands trembling a bit. She didn’t get the sense that Sylas was threatening her, but it might as well have been that. The visceral reaction was as clear as day.

“… Nick… my boy…”

She didn’t seem to trust her voice anymore so she stopped talking, but it was enough for Sylas to understand.

One of her sons had died.

From what Sylas understood, children younger than 16 would not get the message for the trial. If his math was correct, the professor’s eldest son was 16 this year, while her youngest was only 14.

Half the world’s population might have vanished into a puff of smoke, but that didn’t mean that it was proportionate across all demographics.

Young men between the ages of 16 and 25 had taken the largest hit because they were the most likely to click yes.

Sylas had known before he asked the question that the odds that the professor had already suffered a tragic loss were high.

“This world is no longer the same as the one we once knew. The powers that be have a vested interest in making sure that the status quo remains the status quo, but whether or not that is possible is something you’ve seen for yourself.”

“And what are you asking from me exactly?” The professor managed to look up with red eyes. “Choose you over the government? Do you think I’m insane? Trying to use the fact that I’m grieving is sick, Sylas.”