Doyle’s eyes narrowed instantly as the Power around him began to rise.
"Who are you?" The familiar Veridian that ca from his mouth surprised Aurora Sinclair.
Aside from his black hair and pupils, the man’s features were different from those of a typical Veridian, making him look like he was of mixed heritage.
Alvin Morgan smiled and continued, "Donovan Lockwood. Zane Lockwood’s own brother. You participated in Project A and were among the first to benefit..."
Before he could finish, an extrely strong wave of Power shot straight toward his vitals.
Aurora Sinclair swiftly moved in front of him, shattering the wave of Power with a single punch.
The two figures leaped into the air, clashing inside the study. Aurora Sinclair’s speed was imnse.
Doyle’s gaze grew increasingly grim. ’This girl is stronger than I am.’
After a clash of fists, Doyle stumbled back four or five steps. He barely managed to steady himself as blood roiled in his chest, a tallic taste rising in his throat.
Aurora Sinclair pulled back her fist, watching him with a wary gaze.
However, he didn’t go berserk like the Martial King from The Eastern Highlands.
"To reach the level of a Martial King at such a young age... Truly, the younger generation is formidable..."
Doyle clutched his chest and walked slowly toward the sofa, apparently having no intention of fighting further.
"You know so much about my identity. You must be from one of The Ten Great Families, right?" Doyle steadied his breath and looked at Alvin Morgan again.
Alvin Morgan wore a half-mask, the corners of his handso mouth slowly turning up into a smile.
Doyle poured himself a cup of tea. He saw his own, now completely unfamiliar, face in the reflection and scoffed, "Even after I’ve changed so much, soone can still recognize ."
Since escaping Veridia, he had undergone hundreds of costic procedures just to ensure no one would ever recognize him.
"It was a guess."
Doyle froze, then let out another self-deprecating laugh. "Now that you know who I am, are you here to drag back for trial?"
Alvin Morgan watched him for a mont, his voice suddenly turning serious. "Were you the ones who murdered the thirty-six mbers of Professor Young’s family all those years ago?"
Doyle flinched. His fists clenched, as if suppressing a wave of fury. "You already convicted us, didn’t you? What’s the point of asking this now?"
Alvin Morgan’s voice was placid.
"I’ve reopened the investigation into that case. There are a few things that don’t add up. The lab you escaped from was in the Kingsford Outskirts, a very remote location. If you had simply fled, given the circumstances at the ti, it’s unlikely they would have been able to catch you..."
Alvin Morgan paused, glancing at the hand Doyle had wrapped around his teacup. Veins bulged on the back of it, and a storm was brewing in his eyes.
"Since you had already gotten away, why risk going back to murder a family that was under heavy guard?"
Doyle’s eyes narrowed again as he stared intently into Alvin Morgan’s. After a long mont, he said through gritted teeth, "We were tricked into going back. Soone told us there was an antidote at Professor Young’s house..."
"Who told you?"
"A mysterious person who helped us escape. We don’t know who he was."
"And then?" Alvin Morgan asked.
"Bullshit antidote! By the ti we arrived, Professor Young’s family had already been massacred. Only a gravely wounded woman and a little girl were still breathing. Justin Warner refused to leave empty-handed, so we took the woman with us. We never expected that as soon as we left the Young Family estate, we’d be cornered at the gate by Robert Young and n from The Ten Great Families..."
Doyle’s eyes began to redden, and as if a mory had struck him, he suddenly roared, "Thousands of people took part in Project A! In the end, only twenty-six of us made it out alive..."
"The Ten Great Families all signed off on Project A. The Young Family altered the formula on their own and turned us into... this. But in the end, instead of holding the Young Family accountable, you decided to obliterate every last one of us? Why?!"
Doyle was overco with agitation, and the cup in his hand shattered into pieces.
Alvin Morgan watched him calmly and said softly, "You could have chosen not to beco Super Soldiers..."
Doyle’s pupils contracted. He glared at Alvin Morgan for a long ti before finally giving a bitter smile. "Once you’ve tasted the forbidden fruit, how can you possibly resist the temptation?"
Back then, the drugs from Project A enhanced the physical abilities and potential of all of them—the first ones to take the plunge.
He himself had gone from being completely devoid of talent for Martial Cultivation to a Great Martial Master in just two short years.
He had jumped three whole major Levels, surpassing even his genius younger brother, Zane Lockwood.
But after reaching the rank of Great Martial Master, the pace of his Martial Cultivation slowed.
As the eldest son and grandson of the Lockwood Family, his strength was the primary concern of the family elders. They valued strength above all else. If he couldn’t advance further, he would once again beco an irrelevant figure in the Lockwood Family.
So when the Young Family Head added human genetic modification technology to the original project, he agreed.
He endured countless agonizing experints, all for the sake of becoming stronger and stronger.
He didn’t know what the Young Family had put into his body, only that it was called "God’s Blessing," and that they were all chosen to be "Sons of God."
***
Doyle’s expression was numb. He stared blankly at the table before him, as if lost in a mory.
The room fell quiet.
Alvin Morgan clasped his hands, his thumb tapping gently against the back of the other.
"So, the Lord of the Eastern Highlands is Justin Warner of the Warner Family?"
Doyle gave a wooden nod.
"And the woman?"
"A student of Professor Young’s. She was one of the researchers on Project A."
Alvin Morgan’s tapping finger stilled. "Where is she now?"
"Those people took her. They took the formula for the S Sedative—the fruit of Justin Warner’s decades of research."
Doyle slamd his fist on the table.
"So, all of you are here in Masovia?"
Doyle glanced up at him. "Don’t try to pump for information, kid. We all went our separate ways back then. Only Justin Warner and I stuck together."
The smile on Alvin Morgan’s lips widened.
Doyle’s expression was grim. ’Judging by his voice, this man can’t be that old,’ he thought, ’but his composure reminds of the Morgans from back in the day.’
Although all of The Ten Great Families had agreed to Project A, the Morgan Family never sent a single one of their own to participate.
"Are you one of the Morgans?"
Alvin Morgan smiled. "My na is Arthur Lockwood."
"Zane’s grandson?" Doyle looked him up and down in disbelief, then suddenly burst into laughter.
"HAHAHA... A genius like him has a grandson who’s a complete failure at Martial Cultivation..."
Doyle’s laughter was maniacal, as if he were finally venting years of pent-up frustration.
Aurora Sinclair projected a domain of Power, shielding them from the chaotic Power lashing out with his laughter.
After his fit of laughter, Doyle sized him up again.
He stood up, walked over to the desk, and twisted the pen holder.
With a WHIR of gears, a square-shaped secret passage opened in the floor not far from them.
Chilly drafts wafted up from below.
"You two, follow ."
The space wasn’t large—a small cold-storage room.
"Put this on." Doyle tossed Alvin Morgan a tattered cotton-padded jacket that looked like it hadn’t been washed in ages.
"I’m fine."
Doyle sneered. "Don’t bla if you freeze to death."
With that, he turned another handle. A heavy door sprang open, revealing a thick layer of white frost inside.
A bone-chilling cold blasted out. Aurora Sinclair imdiately used her Power to form a barrier, stepping in front of Alvin Morgan to shield him with a wall of Power.
"You’d better worry about yourself, little girl!"
Alvin Morgan glanced at Aurora Sinclair, then picked up the tattered jacket and put it on.
It was a small walk-in freezer, lined with shelves like those found in a laboratory.
Wearing gloves, Doyle carefully made his way to the far end of the room.
There, he found a silver briefcase with a combination lock, encased in a thick block of ice.
He shattered the ice with a sharp blow and opened the case.
"Do you know what this is?" Doyle looked at Alvin Morgan but didn’t wait for an answer. "S Active Cell Agent. Preserved for over forty years."
Alvin Morgan’s expression grew taut.
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