Chapter 2 The First to Fall

No one paid any attention as the tampered drinks were pushed down the aisle on the service cart because they assumed that Sabrina had likely just added a mild laxative—something that would only make people take an embarrassing trip to the bathroom.

It was all harmless fun.

Matt even volunteered, carrying two spiked glasses of juice over to economy class. He wore the act of a friendly student as he struck up a conversation with the foreign teams. "Come on, try some. This is Sinoria's special fruit blend. I wish everyone the best in the competition."

He came back grinning, dropping into his seat with a look of smug anticipation. "Done. Their lead surgeons all drank it."

Sabrina clapped her hands, clearly pleased. Then, she picked up a glass of orange juice and leaned toward me, tilting her head as she studied my face. "Lucia, why aren't you eating anything?"

I opened my eyes and looked at her coldly. "I'm allergic to in-flight meals."

She rolled her eyes, her voice rising sharply. "Lucia Scott, are you scared of my little invention? I'd be embarrassed to represent Sinoria with that kind of nerve!"

I ignored her.

Cedric frowned, his tone full of disdain. "Lucia, can't you try to fit in for once? Look at Sabrina. Now, that's real team spirit."

Team spirit? Poisoning unsuspecting people on an international flight counted as team spirit? Please. If I were more impulsive, I'd be drafting plans to have that engraved on his tombstone.

At that moment, a sudden fit of violent coughing broke out from the row ahead. An elderly foreign expert with graying hair clutched his chest, his face flushing red as he began gasping for air.

Sabrina nearly jumped out of her seat.

Then, she lowered her voice and murmured, "It's taking effect. Everyone, pay attention. He'll develop pseudo-respiratory distress in 10 minutes. That's the optimal window for emergency intervention."

William looked deeply satisfied, as if proud of having such a brilliant student. "Sabrina's control over pharmacological timelines is getting more precise by the day. Cedric, get ready. You'll be representing the country by demonstrating the level of emergency care we possess."

Cedric straightened his collar and stood. "Leave it to me."

I glanced at my watch. It was now 3.47 p.m. They only had about six minutes left before that man's heart stopped beating.

Pseudo-respiratory distress, my foot. That was the final sign before the central nervous system's collapse became irreversible.

'Oh, Sabrina, do you really think you're carrying a laxative? What you brought was the XN Neurotoxin. The same one that's locked behind triple security in your lab. It has a 100% fatality rate. There is no cure for it.'

I twisted open my mineral water again and took another sip, leaning back into my seat.

The show was about to begin; it was time to get comfortable.

Cedric walked over calmly and crouched beside the elderly expert. Then, he offered a few fluent reassurances before going through the motions by checking the man's pupils and feeling for a pulse. "Classic case of acute asthma triggered by a confined environment."

He glanced back at William and gave a confident nod, pulling out a syringe of epinephrine from the emergency kit.

It was a textbook procedure, and he had executed it flawlessly.

Well, he would have… if it had actually been asthma.

The needle pierced the vein, and the old man's body jolted violently as if struck by electricity. His eyes rolled back. Thick black foam poured from his mouth. His limbs twisted in uncontrollable convulsions.

Passengers nearby screamed and scrambled away. Flight attendants rushed in with emergency equipment. The cabin descended into chaos.

The composure vanished from Cedric's face. He froze for a full three seconds before cold sweat broke out across his forehead. 'Wait! That's not right! The epinephrine should have stabilized him temporarily if it had only been a mild laxative or sedative! But this guy is dying—visibly, rapidly!'

Cedric lowered his voice and shouted toward the back, "Sabrina, where's the antidote? Get it out now. He must have an underlying condition! His reaction's too violent!"

Sabrina fumbled in her pocket and pulled out a vial of blue solution, hurrying over to hand it to him. "Don't panic. Use this. I prepared a neutralizer!"

He stared at the vial like a drowning man grabbing at driftwood. Then, he snatched it and injected it straight into the vein.

The convulsions stopped instantly.

Unfortunately, the poor man was not recovering.

The monitor showed in real-time how the jagged line of the heartbeat flattened slowly and inexorably into a straight line. A long, unbroken tone rang out monotonously like a death knell.

Cedric knelt there, the empty syringe trembling in his hand. He had just committed murder. He had injected both the poison and the wrong antidote into the bloodstream of a world-class medical expert with his "expert" hands.

Still, several sharp screams erupted from the direction of economy class before he could even process what he'd just done.