CHAPTER 78: CHAPTER 78: THE LOST VIRUS MONKEYS

The sunset painted the horizon red.

In the pediatric ward, Timothy Sinclair was feeding Little Ze dinner.

The door was knocked.

Timothy and Little Ze looked toward the door, which was then pushed open.

Eugene Vaughn held several boxes of supplements in his left hand and a large box of toys in his right.

"It’s Uncle Eugene, Uncle Eugene." Little Ze stood up excitedly, happily jumping on the bed.

Previously, Eugene had taken Timothy to a few social engagements, personally escorting a drunken Timothy home and occasionally being invited upstairs to sit, where he met Little Ze, who particularly liked him.

Timothy hurriedly put down the bowl and chopsticks, and stood up, "Brother-in-law, what brings you here?"

Eugene said gently, "I came over after work to see Little Ze."

He pulled out a disinfectant wipe from his pocket, wiped the toy’s outer packaging, and handed it to Little Ze, "This is for you, Little Ze, do you like it?"

Little Ze’s eyes sparkled, his mouth opened wide, "Wow! It’s a remote-controlled car, so big and cool! I love it, I really love it!"

Then, Little Ze looked dejectedly at his fractured hand, "But, I can’t play with my hand, Uncle Eugene."

Timothy smiled and comforted, "It’s okay, son, you can play with it when your hand heals."

Eugene placed the remote-control car on the hospital bed, pulled over a chair, and began unpacking it, "Little Ze, this model can be played with one hand."

"Really?" Little Ze was thrilled, sitting cross-legged, his big bright eyes eagerly watching Eugene unwrap the gift.

As Eugene unpacked, he looked around as if searching for something, "Did Victoria leave to have dinner?"

"My sister didn’t come over today." Timothy picked up the bowl and continued spoon-feeding Little Ze.

Eugene’s hand slightly stiffened while unpacking, paused, and an almost imperceptible shadow darkened his eyes.

Little Ze mumbled with food in his mouth, urging, "Uncle Eugene, why did you stop unpacking?"

Timothy looked up at him.

Eugene came to his senses, forcing a stiff smile, quickly pulled out the toy, and put it on the ground.

He took out a highly techy loop and put it on Little Ze’s uninjured wrist and fingers.

"Little Ze, Uncle Eugene will teach you how to play." Eugene gently guided his little hand, "Flick your wrist to the left, and the car turns left, flick it to the right, and the car turns right. Clenching your fist is a brake, opening your hand is to accelerate..."

Little Ze quickly picked it up, operating the remote-controlled car with one hand, the cool car darting back and forth under the bed, leaving Little Ze so excited he forgot about dinner, standing on the bed with a cheerful smile on his face.

Timothy saw Little Ze’s happy smile and felt gratified, "Brother-in-law, you went out of your way."

"Don’t be polite with me." Eugene sat back in the chair, his smile gradually stiffening, his tone unable to hide a hint of melancholy, "Did Victoria not come over this morning either?"

Timothy still didn’t grasp the key point of the question, honestly replied, "I already told her last night, I’ll be on leave these days, taking care of Little Ze personally at the hospital, specifically instructed her not to come over."

Eugene lowered his gaze, a bitter smile curling his lips.

Timothy realized belatedly, "Did Victoria lie to you, saying she was coming to the hospital to take care of Little Ze?"

"No." Eugene forced a wry smile, "I just thought she would come over."

Timothy continued to explain: "She’s at work."

"Hmm."

Timothy could tell that Eugene’s smile was stiff, his eyes unable to hide the loneliness, he quickly pulled out his phone, "I’ll call my sister, ask where she is."

Eugene didn’t stop him, straightened his back against the chair back, watching Timothy make the call.

He didn’t have the courage to ask himself.

But hoped Timothy could ask and provide a reasonable answer.

Timothy put the phone to his ear, then frowned, "My sister’s phone is off."

Eugene pressed his lips together, taking a deep breath, "It’s okay, she’s probably busy."

It didn’t seem like he was talking to Timothy.

More like he was comforting himself.

——

At eleven-thirty in the evening.

Victoria Sinclair had just hurried back from another city; she had spent the whole day busy and was mentally and physically exhausted.

Ten virus-carrying experimental monkeys had been stolen. "Grandpa" was highly concerned, demanded to keep the news sealed from the public to avoid causing societal panic.

Then deployed a large number of police officers, in coordination with pharmaceutical research experts, to pursue Walter Yates, and search for the missing virus-experiment monkeys.

She attended a meeting at the town hall with Professor Lee and some other experts, followed by a long journey with the police to Walter Yates’s hometown, only to find they were a step too late, Walter Yates had escaped again, and they couldn’t find the missing monkeys. They hurried back to the pharmaceutical research institute by evening.

At night, she met with police and fire department heads to discuss the next course of action for the pursuit. Once the monkeys were found, they needed to discuss how to manage them safely without being infected by the viruses they carried, as well as understanding what virus types the monkeys were carrying and their potential impact, etc.

The living room lights were off. Victoria didn’t turn them on, changed into slippers, and walked to her room in the moonlight.

She saw a light from the crack of Eugene’s room door.

Knew he was home.

Victoria was extremely tired, and with the intense June heat, she was on her period, and had been out running around the whole day, her body grimy, so she decided to shower first.

After bathing and drying her hair, Victoria was so exhausted that she wanted to collapse into bed and fall asleep immediately.

But her desire to see Eugene was particularly strong, wanting to lie on his bed, nestled in his warm embrace to sleep.

With a tinge of luxurious expectation, she propped up her tired body and walked out of the room.

Eugene’s room crack still showed a light.

He wasn’t asleep yet.

Victoria wanted to knock on the door, but was too reserved, unable to muster up the courage to be proactive.

Wanting to be close to him, yet shy.

She turned on the living room lights, poured a cup of warm water, took a couple of sips, intentionally made some noise, hoping Eugene would come out from his room.

She placed the cup on the coffee table and sat on the sofa.

Knees slightly bent, faintly aching.

She rolled up her loose long pajama pants, bent down to look at the bruises on both knees.

When accompanying the police to capture Walter Yates in his hometown, the mountain roads were rugged and difficult to traverse; the police ran swiftly while Victoria, being frail, and Professor Lee, being older, ran slower, afraid of being left behind, worrying about the consequences if the virus monkeys attacked the police.

She desperately ran after the police, but accidentally tripped and fell on the gravelly path, her palms were scraped; fortunately, her knees were covered by pants, only slightly red and swollen, not scraped.

Victoria gently pressed the reddened areas on her knees with her fingers, they didn’t seem too severe, probably didn’t need ointments, should heal in a couple of days.

"What happened?"

A man’s cool voice came from above her head, startling Victoria. She hurriedly pulled down her pant leg, nervously straightened up, and looked up.

Her heart was pounding furiously.

Was it because she was too engrossed in her thoughts, or did Eugene walk without making a sound?

"I fell accidentally." Victoria stood up, softly asked, "Eugene, why are you still up so late?"

Eugene had his hands in his pockets, staring at her without a word, his face somber, eyes slightly reddened, an indescribable harshness mixed with hidden anger.

Victoria was familiar with that look of his, her heart slowly turned anxious and cold, nervously swallowing, cautiously asked, "What’s wrong?"

Eugene lowered his head, avoiding eye contact with her, scoffed coldly, softly mocking, "How intense could it be to end up with bruised knees?"