Contract Marriage with My Secret Partner in Crime-Chapter 100: Unknown Connection

Lian quietly closed his tablet and stood up from his study desk. His tutor gave him a nod of approval before gathering her things and exiting the room. As soon as she left, a small smile crept across Lian’s face. He adjusted the collar of his neatly pressed shirt and walked down the hallway, his steps lighter than usual.

The corridor led him to the main living room where his father, Larman Diamond, and his uncle Brent were seated, engaged in a serious conversation. As soon as Lian entered, he paused near the doorway, his posture straight and respectful.

"Dad. Uncle Brent," he greeted softly, bowing his head slightly.

Both men turned toward him. Larman’s stern expression softened immediately.

"Lian," Larman said, his tone gentler now.

The boy took a few steps forward, his eyes gleaming with a rare kind of excitement. "Dad, I’m done with my lessons for today. Can I finally ride my bike?" His voice was hopeful, almost pleading. The way his eyes lit up, the slight bounce in his stance, and the innocence etched on his face made him look like any other boy his age. It was an expression rarely seen on Lian’s face—as if, for once, he was allowed to be a child.

Larman studied his son for a moment. He saw how much it meant to him. The child had been cooped up too long, recovering, learning, watching other kids from behind glass. His heart ached. He nodded.

"Okay," he said finally. "But be careful and don’t go outside our mansion’s gate. Just stay at the front yard."

Lian’s face lit up instantly. "Yes, Dad! Thank you!" Without waiting another second, he spun around and dashed off toward the garage where his bicycle was stored.

Brent chuckled as he stood. "Looks like you just made his day."

"Let him have this moment," Larman replied quietly, standing up to follow. The two men made their way to the yard, their expressions both happy and tinged with worry.

Outside, Lian pulled his bike upright and settled himself on the seat. He gripped the handlebars, his face beaming with anticipation. Just as he was about to push forward, Larman called out to him.

"Be careful. You just came out of the hospital."

"Yes, Dad!" Lian replied without even looking back. And then he was off, pedaling slowly at first, then picking up speed as he circled the wide front yard. The late afternoon sun bathed the driveway in a warm glow, the shadows of trees swaying gently over the pavement.

Larman and Brent watched from the side, their eyes following every turn the boy made. For a few minutes, everything was peaceful. Lian laughed quietly to himself as he maneuvered past a flowerbed, the wind brushing his cheeks.

But then, just as he rounded a corner, his front wheel caught on a jagged rock hidden beneath fallen leaves. The bike jolted. Lian’s balance shifted, and before he could correct it, he was thrown sideways. The bike clattered onto the pavement with a loud bang, and Lian landed hard on his side.

Both men rushed toward him.

"Lian!" Larman’s voice was sharp with fear. He dropped to his knees beside his son, Brent a step behind him.

Lian sat up slowly. His knees were scraped, and blood trickled from the wounds. But his face was composed. He looked at his father, not a single tear in his eyes.

"I’m okay," he said softly.

Larman’s chest tightened. A boy his age should cry after falling like that. But Lian didn’t. He was used to pain. Too used to it.

"Go call our private doctor," Larman ordered the nearby guard.

The guard saluted and ran into the mansion.

As they waited, something strange—yet familiar to them—happened.

Right before their eyes, the wounds on Lian’s knees began to close. The bleeding stopped, the skin knotted and healed itself, leaving no trace of injury behind. Larman exhaled slowly, not surprised. Brent, too, remained quiet, as if this was something they’d come to expect.

Moments later, the doctor arrived, bag in hand. But before he could speak, Larman stood up and said, "It’s okay now. Let’s go inside first. You can check on him there."

The doctor nodded and followed them to the mini hospital room inside the mansion. Lian remained quiet, walking beside his father as if nothing had happened. Once inside, he sat obediently on the check-up bed as the doctor examined him.

After several minutes, the doctor exited the room and made his way to Larman’s office.

Larman was already there, seated behind his desk. As soon as the door opened, he looked up. "How is he?"

"He’s fine for now," the doctor said, placing his tablet on the desk. "But it won’t last long. After a month, he’ll need another injection of the combined blood."

Larman looked down at the file in his hand. His eyes lingered on two names: Zephany and Kendrick.

"Is there really no other way to save my son?" he asked, his tone calm. But his eyes were anything but.

The doctor hesitated before answering. "We’re trying our best. But right now, the combined blood of the two survivors is the only thing keeping the pathogens under control in his body. Without it, he won’t last. He needs the injection every month."

His voice was even, but his shoulders betrayed the weight he carried.

Larman’s gaze didn’t leave the file. "How about them? How’s their condition?"

The doctor paused, clearly uncomfortable. "They’ll suffer again if we don’t inject them with each other’s blood. The pain will return. Unbearable pain. And if the synthetic pathogen gets out of control, it could destroy their organs. They might die soon."

Larman leaned back slightly in his chair. "I need them alive for my son to continue living." ƒгeewebnovёl.com

He turned to look at Brent, who had been silently listening in the corner.

"Let me do the arrangements, Brother," Brent said firmly before stepping out of the room.

Larman glanced at the doctor again. He noticed the hesitation on his face.

"Just tell me what it is."

The doctor gulped. "Sir... the combined blood might be effective now, but the body might adapt to it. Continuous use could make it less effective. Eventually, it might not work at all. The pathogens could mutate or become resistant."

The air in the room felt heavy. Larman said nothing. The silence stretched, pressing against the walls like a storm waiting to break.

Finally, he spoke. His voice was calm, but there was something dangerous underneath.

"So we need to find a complete cure. Not just a temporary solution. What are you still waiting for? Hurry and find it."

The doctor nodded quickly, gathering his things and hurrying out of the room.

Larman sat still for a moment longer, then slowly clenched his fist over the file, his knuckles turning white. Outside, the sun dipped behind the clouds, casting the mansion in a colder shade of light.

And somewhere, two unsuspecting individuals, Zephany and Kendrick, continued with their lives, unaware of the blood that connected them to a child they had never met. Neither of them knew their lives were at stake, or that without a cure, they had less than a year left to live.