Vincent Moore knew he was mocking himself for not accepting Nathalie Quinlan earlier, but now he was defending her.

His ears and face felt a bit hot, with a somewhat awkward expression, he glared at Zed Moore but didn’t say much and quickly went off to take care of business.

*

In the second floor room.

Nathalie Quinlan opened her laptop and logged into the Red Alliance software.

She saw a string of messages sent to her by @ilovebeingskinny.

Nathalie Quinlan pulled out her chair and sat down, maneuvering the mouse to open the unread messages one by one.

[@ilovebeingskinny: I found out some things about Lynette Kingsley.]

[@ilovebeingskinny: Turns out Lynette Kingsley previously worked at The First Research Institute and was one of the members of the 8th level laboratory at that time.]

[@ilovebeingskinny: The batch of members from the 8th level laboratory at The First Research Institute back then was incredibly impressive, the fact that Lynette Kingsley could get in shows she herself is quite an extraordinary person.]

[@ilovebeingskinny: Later on, for some unknown reason, that batch of members split apart. Lynette Kingsley also left The First Research Institute, whereabouts unknown.]

[@ilovebeingskinny: I also found out that one of the members stayed at The First Research Institute and is now a laboratory director.]

[@ilovebeingskinny: Nathan Garland, the director of the 5th level laboratory, and Lynette Kingsley were both members of the 8th level laboratory back then, considered being peers. Tsk! One is dead, one became a director of the 5th level laboratory. I wonder what really happened back then that made that batch of incredible 8th level laboratory members fall apart, coming to this point...]

Nathalie Quinlan read the dense messages he sent, her fingers resting on the mouse, not making a move for a long while.

8th level laboratory?

Nathan Garland?

Something happened one year?

She stared at the messages @ilovebeingskinny found on the computer screen, linking them with what she recently discovered.

Nathalie Quinlan felt as if an invisible string was pulling her forward; she hadn’t managed to grasp the thought yet...

Suddenly.

The phone on the table rang again.

Finally having some thoughts, Nathalie Quinlan was abruptly interrupted, feeling extremely bad.

She leaned back against the chair, annoyed, picked up the phone from the table, glanced at it, and saw another unknown number from Inderia.

She felt a bit annoyed.

Letting the ringtone play until it stopped, she didn’t answer.

Unexpectedly, just as the room quieted down again, the phone in her hand rang once more, still that unknown number.

The caller seemed set on her answering the call.

Nathalie Quinlan raised an eyebrow, her eyes a cold black.

She no longer ignored it, reversed her hand to answer.

Turning on the speakerphone, she threw the phone onto the table.

"Speak."

Very cold, very arrogant.

The person on the other end seemed surprised by her attitude, not responding for quite a while, taking several seconds before speaking calmly: "I am Hansel Kingsley, based on seniority, you should call me Sixth Great Uncle. I’m calling to ask if you have time to meet."

What the heck is a Sixth Great Uncle?

Nathalie Quinlan furrowed her brow in annoyance, just about to say she was unavailable, but as the words reached her lips, she glanced at her phone and thought of the frequency the Kingsleys Family had been calling her recently, feeling agitated and silent for a moment: "Where to meet?"

"Intercontinental, is it convenient for you?" The elder’s voice was both ancient and carried a steady sense of oppression.

He had already set the place, yet asked if it was convenient for herself?

If it wasn’t, would they change places?

Whether they change places or not doesn’t matter; she just wanted to meet and make things clear.