"Are you all defying my order?"
The words sliced through the stagnant air of the underground parking lot, carrying enough weight to make every guard stiffen.
"Not at all, Your Highness."
The security chief bowed deeply, his posture rigid despite the sweat forming at his brow. Internally, he cursed the cruel fate that had dragged him into this moment.
A mere third-rank officer, barely seasoned from a few years of leading a twelve-man squad, now standing at the precipice of disaster—trapped between two princely titans.
If he obeyed the Third Prince, the First Prince's wrath would surely rain down upon him, swift and unforgiving. If he defied the Third Prince… well, he had no intention of ending up as a test subject in his hospital.
The gruesome rumors were enough to make his stomach churn.
Like a shrimp caught between two mighty whales, he was utterly insignificant. And whales, he knew, had no sympathy for the struggles of small creatures.
Drawing in a deep breath, he braced himself for the only path he could take.
"Y-Your Highness, I—I am truly so—"
A sudden noise cut through his sentence—an engine's hum, the sound of tires rolling to a stop.
Nael's sharp gaze flicked toward the source. His expression shifted instantly, his previous irritation melting into unbridled excitement as the doors of the sleek black car swung open.
"Brother!"
With renewed enthusiasm, he strode toward Alaric, completely abandoning the security chief, who nearly collapsed with relief.
The embrace was warm—but fleeting.
A familiar grumbling voice disrupted the moment.
"It looks like you need eye treatment, little brother."
Solren's taunting remark made Nael turn, his grin instantly twisting into something more mischievous.
"Oh? Even you're here. Come on, tell me—how many bones did you lose this time?"
Solren let out a mock sigh and held up a hand, pausing for dramatic effect.
"Let me count."
With slow deliberation, he raised a single finger—the middle one.
Nael chuckled darkly, though the sharp glint in his eye made it clear he wasn't amused.
"Want me to change that finger with a mechanical one?" His tone was deceptively sweet, but the underlying threat was unmistakable.
Alaric, as always, ignored their bickering, stepping past them toward the security chief and his squad. He looked toward the box in their hand with a frown.
"Why is this box still here?"
The security chief felt a bead of sweat slide down his temple.
His gaze darted nervously toward Nael, seeking any form of guidance.
"What are you looking at me for?" Answer me, brother."
Nael's wide smile made the chief's stomach churn. He knew that smile all too well—it was the kind of expression that preceded disasters.
"It—it is my incompetence, Your Highness," the chief admitted, his voice barely above a whisper as he bowed his head.
Alaric's expression remained unreadable, yet the sharp edge in his gaze was undeniable.
"Enough. No excuses. Complete your task. Now."
"Y-Yes, Your Highness."
The guards scrambled into motion, their movements swift as they set to work.
Alaric watched them for a moment before shifting his gaze back to Nael. His expression hardened.
"Nael."
Alaric's tone was devoid of warmth—sharp, unwavering, and powerful enough to suffocate the last remnants of amusement on Nael's face.
"I want this to be your first and last interference in this matter."
Nael's breath hitched. There was no room for negotiation in that voice, no trace of the older brother who would usually indulge his curiosity.
"The thing inside this box is extremely important to Father, and I will not tolerate any kind of hindrance to his plans..." Alaric's gaze bore into Nael, pinning him in place. "...even if it's from you."
A shudder crawled through Nael's spine. His fingers curled slightly at his sides as realization sank in.
This was far beyond what he had imagined.
Whatever was in that box—it wasn't just valuable. It was vital. A secret so weighty that even the slightest misstep could bring disaster upon him. And Alaric's demeanor left no doubt—this wasn't a mere warning. It was a final one.
If he disobeyed, not even their father would shield him from the consequences.
Nael swallowed hard. His voice came out softer than intended.
"I understand."
Alaric held his gaze for a beat longer before giving a slight nod.
"Hmm. Go back to your ward. Sol and I have work to do."
There was no room for argument.
Nael hesitated only briefly, then turned on his heel toward the exit, the weight of his brother's words pressing heavy on his shoulders.
Alaric sighed as he watched his little brother retreat, shaking his head slightly.
"You don't have to be rough, you know," Solren muttered from beside him.
"I know." Alaric's voice remained neutral, but there was an underlying layer of concern. "But Nael is a child—one far too curious for his own good."
His gaze lingered on the spot where his younger brother had stood mere moments ago.
"If I don't stop him now... one day, that curiosity will cost him his life."
Solren exhaled.
"Fair enough."
Alaric turned toward his brother.
"Let's go. I want to see who beat you like a rag."
### Inside the Underground Laboratory
"Holy S#it! Holy shit! This is a f#cking miracle!"
The sheer excitement in the researcher's voice practically vibrated through the sterile laboratory walls.
Alaric resisted the urge to rub his temples.
"Can you stop cursing?" he said, irritation lacing his tone.
From the reports he'd received, he had imagined something monstrous inside the box—a humanoid beast, perhaps, something truly unnatural.
But as his gaze landed on the restrained figure before him, doubt flickered in his mind.
The subject lay completely immobilized, high doses of anesthetics coursing through his veins every minute—an evident precaution.
Yet, beneath the medical restraints, he looked... human.
"He's just a boy... not even twenty-five, I think," Alaric mused silently, studying the figure.
The head researcher, completely oblivious to Alaric's unease, practically vibrated with excitement.
"Your Highness, please—please let me operate on him!" His voice was frantic, laced with something dangerously close to obsession. "He is a walking treasure! If I succeed, I assure you, our empire will no longer have diseased patients! Even the disabled might be cured!"
The gleam in his eyes was unnerving. He was already envisioning the glory, the prestige—the name he would carve into history with this breakthrough.
Alaric arched a brow, assessing the man before him.
The researcher wasn't just eager. He was enthralled.
A great mind, indeed—but also a dangerous one.
"Care to explain the reason?" Alaric asked, his voice even.
The head researcher took a shaky breath, his fingers twitching as he gestured wildly toward the restrained subject.
"Your Highness… this boy is beyond human." His voice teetered on the edge of obsession, his mind already racing with possibilities.
Alaric's gaze remained fixed on the test subject, whose body lay eerily still—yet, even under layers of restraints and continuous anesthesia, there was an unnatural vitality to him.
"His regeneration alone defies all recorded limits," the researcher continued. "Not just accelerated tissue repair—no, it's true regeneration. If we were to sever a limb, it would regrow within days. Vital organs? Replaced within weeks. It's not just cellular replication—it's near-perfect structural restoration."
He sucked in a breath, barely containing his excitement.
"And his endurance... even unconscious, his body resists physiological deterioration. His muscles do not experience atrophy; his bones do not weaken from prolonged immobilization. His metabolism is optimized beyond human efficiency—he does not suffer from malnutrition the way an average person would. Despite the extreme sedation, his circulatory system remains astonishingly stable, as if his body refuses to recognize trauma as a threat."
Alaric frowned slightly but said nothing.
"And then—his blood, Your Highness."
The researcher stepped closer, eyes gleaming with manic brilliance.
"His white blood cells don't just fight off infections; they eradicate foreign bodies before they can take hold. We've introduced every known pathogen into his bloodstream—every single one—and his system destroyed them within minutes."
The researcher's voice dropped lower, barely above a whisper.
"Even cancer cells."
Silence hung heavy in the room.
"He is biological perfection, Your Highness. A prototype for an enhanced human—no, something beyond human. If we can unlock the mechanism behind his cellularstructure…" The researcher's breath quickened. "We could eradicate disease. Restore lost limbs. Reverse organ failure. Extend lifespans beyond current limits."
Alaric inhaled deeply, letting the weight of the researcher's words settle.
Unlike this researcher, he doesn't really care about Kevin's regeneration or physical capabilities.
After all, if someone were to reach the second level, then the only way for that person to get sick is through artificially designed diseases.
As for extended lifespans, if even normal persons were to have that many years to live, then forget about enemies; the sheer cost of managing the constantly surging population will make them beggars.
At least superhumans are more than capable of carrying their own weight, whereas most of the normal ones don't even have the potential to step on the path of evolution.
Alaric turned toward the researcher with a serious face.
"Can we continue with the nerve-affecting nanobot or not?"