The 24th Century Warrior Became a Fake Heiress novel Chapter 387

Chapter 387 Shadows of the Cartel

He considered calling later, but Andre was already prepping his flight to Valoria.

So he held off on an encrypted debrief, opting to deliver the news in person upon landing.

Hearing his words, Andre knitted his brows in mild annoyance.

Glancing at Preston, he demanded, “Raymond Sinclair recovered?

“How is that possible?”

Sneering with arrogant disbelief, he scoffed, “I know the precise pharmacological yield of my formulation.

“Even if palliative care granted him temporary relief, a relapse is mathematically inevitable.

“Please…”

Andre drawled in an icy tone, “You think ceasing exposure magically cures systemic damage?

“Those neurotoxic alkaloids have long colonized his myocardial tissue–they don’t metabolize with time, they compound.

“The cellular burden only escalates.

“And if he’s desperate to reboot his battery trials, that suits our schedule perfectly…”

With a cold chuckle, Andre muttered, “The brutal cognitive strain and escalating anxiety will break his vascular walls.

“You think synthesizing an alloy to cage high–voltage arc discharge is a walk in the park?

“If it were that trivial, why do you think we didn’t deploy direct kinetic extraction?

“Even on Valorian soil, what does a minor outfit like Sinclair Enterprises amount to?

“We command dozens of operational vectors to stage fatal accidents and seize their IP.

“So why didn’t we pull the trigger?

“The Miller family’s influence spans the northern hemisphere–we wouldn’t have even needed to get our hands dirty to take their patents.

“Engage whatever brain cells you have left and think about why we held back.”

Andre kept walking down the terminal corridor with an air of frigid arrogance.

A dense perimeter of executive assistants and security operatives flanked him.

The tactical guards looked like blocky, stone–faced cinema heavies–imposing, silent, and radiating lethal professionalism.

Gliding beside Andre like silent zealots, their sheer physical presence projected suffocating pressure.

Falling into step beside the formation, Preston felt an instinctive chill run down his spine.

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