The Hidden Chip in the Martyr's Bones

My soul ached as if countless hands were tearing it apart. In a daze, I felt as though I'd been dragged back to two years ago.

Back then, the virus was raging, and the hospitals were overflowing with patients.

My parents and my brother ran the largest pharmaceutical company in the country, yet even they were powerless against this new virus.

There was no miracle drug, no mature treatment plan—only the helpless sight of one infected patient after another collapsing.

Half a year later, the bad news came in waves—

Kip. My parents. My brother. They had all been infected. They were rushed to the research institute where I worked and placed in emergency isolation.

The hallways were packed with desperate families. Relatives clutched at the sleeves of doctors and nurses, crying and pleading, "Please save them! We're begging you!"

Inside the wards, painful groans echoed. The alarms of the monitoring equipment rose and fell without pause.

I stood outside the glass, staring at their pale faces, my heart carving itself apart.

Suddenly, I remembered something my mentor had once said, "If we can find a naturally immune blood sample, it might speed up the research…"

A terrifying thought flashed through my mind—

As their closest contact, I had never been infected. Did that mean… I was the naturally immune blood sample?

That thought circled my mind for three days. In the end, I made up my mind.

I stormed into the lab, found the director of the institute, and said—my voice trembling, but firm, "Let me join the human trials. I'll be the test subject."

The director, whose hair had long since turned white from stress, snapped his head up and scolded harshly, "Nonsense! This violates regulations. We can't let you take that kind of risk!"

For the first time, I lost control and shouted back, "People are dying by the minute! One day sooner means countless more lives saved!"

That scene was witnessed by my mentor standing not far away.

He watched me in silence, his gaze complicated.

Later, I begged him again and again. The last time, he let out a long, heavy sigh. As he turned away, a key "accidentally" slipped from the pocket of his white coat.

It was the access key to the underground laboratory.

I began my secret work, but the intensity of the experiments was far beyond anything I'd imagined.

Constant blood draws, drug testing, data logging, dosage adjustments… they drained almost every last bit of my strength.

With no other choice, I brought Jen in as my assistant.

To ensure the integrity of the data, I had a microchip implanted in my body to continuously record my vital signs and external conditions.

And so, I endured half a year in that sunless laboratory…

Finally, I succeeded.

In the second before I completely lost consciousness, I handed the formula and sample of the miracle drug to Jen.

Back then, she cried like a rain-soaked flower.

"Don't worry, Sylvia. I'll make sure this medicine saves everyone…"

Now, looking back, she hadn't been lying.

She did save everyone.

She just took the drug I'd risked my life to create and claimed it as her own.

She saved everyone… except me.

Only now did I finally understand that she had never been a helpless sheep. She was a vicious wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Just as that realization settled in, a wave of cheering exploded in my ears, growing louder and louder.

"Marry him! Marry him!"

The next second, Jen covered her mouth, as if she couldn't withstand the sudden happiness.

After a long pause, she seemed to finally make up her mind, her voice trembling with shy emotion, "I… I will."

I watched with my own eyes as my fiancé and the woman who killed me kissed in front of everyone.

My soul was flayed by a dull blade, the pain so deep I felt it might shatter me apart—

That was supposed to be my beloved. My life.

The agony left me barely able to stand. Even the crystal chandelier above began to sway violently.

The scattered light and shadows trembled like my shattered hatred—quivering, unseen by anyone…