His Last Command Came Back to Kill Him novel Chapter 117

"I'm actually preparing a new drug project right now, but I'm lacking a mentor's guidance, so I was hoping..."

After beating around the bush, Yelena finally revealed her true objective. Being taken under his wing would guarantee her a smooth path in the industry, much like Chisholm Vance.

Professor Prescott smiled faintly and set down his teacup. "I have nothing to teach you."

It was a blunt, uncompromising rejection.

"How could that be? You're—"

He raised a hand to cut her off. "You are highly qualified, but you know my standards for accepting a student."

"Come back when you reach the level of 'Lucent'."

Yelena froze.

"Lucent" was the mysterious genius who had taken the pharmacology world by storm in recent years. No one knew their true identity, but they had solved several international bottlenecks, and top global labs cited their work constantly.

"I admire Lucent greatly, and I've always wanted to meet him," Yelena said, forcing a smile to mask her bruised ego. "But talents like that are so rare. I admit... I haven't reached that height yet."

Professor Prescott stood up. "Please excuse me."

Yelena’s lips pressed into a thin, pale line. Her towering pride had just been drenched in ice water. She was the best among her peers—his standards were simply absurd.

Swallowing her resentment, she murmured an apology for intruding and walked away. Without his backing, her shiny foreign degrees wouldn't be enough to secure her dominance in the domestic market. She needed a new plan.

During the intermission, Whitley managed to locate the two NHA secretaries relaxing in the courtyard.

Whitley stared at the scalding liquid, her eyes turning glacial. That wasn't an offer of hydration; it was a weapon.

Yelena was trying the same trick twice. Ever since Whitley’s hand had been injured, Yelena seemed determined to make sure it never fully healed, constantly looking for ways to inflict more pain.

"We aren't friends. You can drop the fake saint act," Whitley said coldly, stepping to the side to bypass her.

But Yelena refused to move. "Since you haven't been coming home lately, I've been the one taking care of Leroy."

"He asked for that soothing herbal soup you used to make him. Could you teach me how to make it?"

Whitley stopped dead in her tracks.

The implication was crystal clear. Yelena was blatantly telling her that she had already taken over her home. The passcode had been changed, their wedding photos removed, and the bedsheets swapped for Yelena's preferred styles. She was systematically erasing every trace of Whitley's existence.