She Used Me for a Dare… Now I Own Her Mother - Chapter 251: The Price

Chapter 251: The Price

Varen stood at the podium, watching the chaos unfold with weary resignation.

But before the chaos could solidify into action, before delegations could issue demands or scientists could request data, movement shattered the fragile order.

An old man stood. Mid-seventies, liver spots visible on trembling hands, breath wheezed from decades of smoking. Nobody important. A functionary sent to observe, not decide.

But his eyes…

His eyes burned with something feral.

“Immortality,” he whispered. Then louder. “IMMORTALITY!”

He ran.

Not the careful shuffle of elderly dignity. A full sprint. Desperation turned his arthritic joints fluid, adrenaline overriding pain as he charged the podium.

The room froze. Security half-rose, uncertain. Was this an attack? A medical emergency?

Varen watched him come. Surprised but still. Calculating. His hand didn’t move toward the vial. He simply… observed.

The old man’s fingers closed around the Golden Catalyst.

“No… ” someone started.

Too late.

He tilted his head back. Brought the vial to cracked lips. And drank. One long swallow. Every drop. The glass fell from his fingers, shattering on marble floor.

Silence.

Security personnel moved instantly. Weapons drawn, trained on the old man. Shouts of “Don’t move!” and “Hands where we can see them!”

But Silva’s voice cut through the chaos.

“Stand down.”

The command carried absolute authority. The guards hesitated, weapons still raised, eyes darting between Silva and the old man.

“I said stand down.” Silva’s tone didn’t rise. Didn’t need to. “Let him finish what he started.”

The guards lowered their weapons. Slowly. Reluctantly.

The old man didn’t notice. Or didn’t care.

Laughter erupted from his throat. Wet, phlegmatic, triumphant. His arm shot up, finger jabbing toward the stunned delegations.

“HAHAHAHA! I’ll live forever! Forever! While you all argue and debate and waste time, I’ll…”

His face changed.

Color drained. Eyes widened. The laugh cut off mid-sound, replaced by a choked gasp.

“I’ll… I’ll…”

He collapsed.

Not gracefully. His knees buckled and he went down hard, skull cracking against the podium’s edge. Blood immediately. But that wasn’t what killed him.

His body convulsed. Back arching impossibly. Fingers clawing at his stomach as screams tore from his throat… raw, animal sounds of agony beyond language.

The divine blood was destroying him from inside.

Cellular rejection happening at catastrophic speed. His enhanced immune system recognized foreign essence and attacked with everything. But the divine blood fought back. The battle consumed him. Organs rupturing. Blood vessels exploding. Bones cracking as his skeleton tried to reinforce itself but couldn’t complete the transformation.

He rolled across the floor. Screaming. Begging.

Blood poured from his mouth. His nose. His eyes.

Then he stopped moving.

Silence crashed down like a physical weight.

Everyone stared at the corpse. At the pool of blood spreading across white marble. At proof that Varen’s warnings weren’t metaphorical.

“He’s lying.” The German representative stood, voice shaking. “This is… this is theater. You poisoned that vial. You’re trying to… ”

“Decieve us,” the French observer finished. “Create scarcity through fear.”

“Show us the REAL formula,” demanded the Chinese delegation head.

“This is fraud!”

“Criminal negligence!”

“Arrest him immediately!”

Voices climbed over each other. Anger. Fear. Doubt. Because if enhancement could fail this catastrophically, if even diluted divine blood could kill…

Then everything Varen promised was a lie.

Or worse… a trap.

Silva’s expression hadn’t changed. He stood at the back of the room, perfectly still, watching the chaos with those unreadable eyes.

Then his lips curved. Not a smile. Something colder.

His resolve crystallized.

Varen looked down at the corpse. No sympathy softened his features. Just pity. The distant kind reserved for fools who die from predictable stupidity.

“Pathetic,” he said quietly.

The crowd’s accusations grew louder. Demanding answers. Threatening legal action. Several security personnel moved toward the podium, hands on weapons.

Varen didn’t budge.

He clicked his tongue. Three sharp sounds that somehow cut through the noise.

“Tch. Tch. Tch.”

The room quieted slightly. Enough to hear him.

“What a pitiful fellow. And what a terrible death.”

His gaze swept the crowd with something approaching contempt.

“I forgot to mention one crucial detail.” His voice carried perfect clarity now. Clinical. Detached.

“People like him… like us… old, at death’s door, bodies already failing… we have almost no chance of successful integration.”

He gestured at his own chest.

“I was extraordinarily lucky. My physiology happened to be compatible. My baseline health just sufficient. But even then, I endured agony that would have broken most men.”

He pointed at the corpse.

“He had none of those advantages. Elderly. Chronic conditions visible in every movement. His body was already dying. The divine blood simply… accelerated the inevitable.”

Silence. Heavy. Suffocating.

“So yes. This medicine can become your curse if you’re reckless. If you ignore protocols. If you let greed override basic biological reality.”

He paused, letting that sink in.

“The optimal age for integration is between twenty-five and thirty-five. When the body has reached full physical maturity but hasn’t begun significant decline. Peak bone density. Cardiovascular health. Cellular regeneration still efficient. Before that window…”

He gestured at the corpse.

“…the success rate drops precipitously. After forty, it becomes a gamble. After sixty?” His expression hardened. “Suicide with extra steps.”

The representatives stared at the body. At the blood. At undeniable proof that enhancement carried a death sentence for the unprepared.

Movement.

Silva walked forward. Not rushed. Deliberate steps that drew every eye. He gestured to security personnel.

“Remove the body.”

Four men moved immediately. Efficient. Professional. They lifted the corpse… still warm, blood dripping… and carried it toward a side exit.

Silva stopped three meters from Varen. His expression unreadable. When he spoke, his voice carried formal weight.

“Dr. Varen.”

A pause. Calculated.

“I have never seen such intelligence in my lifetime. What you’ve accomplished in six weeks… I expected would take teams of researchers years to achieve. You are a legend. History will remember your contribution to humanity’s advancement.”

Another pause. Longer.

“But.”

The word dropped like a guillotine blade.

“You have caused the death of a man. In front of representatives from every nation. A delegate from a respected country, no less.”

Silva’s hand moved. A gesture. Precise.

“You’re under arrest.”

Armed security converged. Six men in tactical gear, weapons ready. The lead officer approached cautiously, handcuffs extended.

“Hands behind your back, Dr. Varen.”

Varen smiled. That mischievous expression returning briefly.

“Of course.”

He complied. Let them cuff his wrists. The metal felt like a child’s toy against his enhanced strength, but he didn’t resist.

“What a hypocrite you are, Silva,” he said conversationally.

Silva’s expression didn’t flicker.

The guards led Varen past the stunned delegations. He stopped. Turned to address the room one final time.

But Silva’s voice cut through before he could speak.

“Dr. Varen’s documentation will be thoroughly examined, naturally.” He stepped forward, positioning himself between Varen and the delegations. “We cannot simply accept claims from a man whose ’divine catalyst’ just killed someone in front of international witnesses.”

He gestured toward the blood stain.

“For all we know, this so-called medicine is experimental poison. The death we witnessed could indicate fundamental flaws in his methodology. Perhaps Dr. Varen’s own enhancement is temporary. Perhaps it will kill him in days or weeks.”

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the delegations.

“Therefore,” Silva continued, “Dr. Varen will remain in UN custody pending independent verification of every claim. His research will be subjected to peer review by international medical committees. No nation will attempt replication until we can confirm his work isn’t fraudulent… or fatal.”

He paused, scanning the room.

“We must proceed with extreme caution. A man died here today. We owe it to his memory… and to humanity… to ensure Dr. Varen’s ’gift’ isn’t actually a curse in disguise.”

The representatives nodded. Reasonable. Prudent. Exactly what responsible leadership demanded.

Silva’s expression remained grave.

Concerned. The perfect mask of diplomatic responsibility.

But his eyes… his eyes held something else entirely.

The guards pulled him toward the exit.

But representatives watched him go with new expressions. Not anger now. Not doubt.

Calculation.

Because Varen’s arrest meant something crucial: his methodology was real. The death proved it. The danger proved it.

And if one nation secured him, secured his expertise…

Phones emerged. Whispered conversations in Mandarin, Russian, Arabic, French. Encrypted messages sent to capitals worldwide.

Dr. Varen arrested. Research confirmed genuine. Recommend immediate action.

The scramble had begun.

***

Silva led the convoy personally. Not toward the building’s detention wing. Toward the roof.

Varen noticed immediately. His eyes narrowed as they climbed service stairs instead of descending to holding cells. As they passed emergency exits that should lead to interrogation rooms.

The roof access door opened. Helicopter rotors already spinning. A medical container strapped in the cargo bay.

Container Four.

Varen’s container.

Understanding hit like cold water.

“I knew you were up to something, you bastard.” His voice stayed calm. Almost amused. “Are you trying to betray the UN?”

Silva stopped at the helicopter’s door. Turned to face Varen directly. His expression finally shifted. Not to anger or triumph.

To something far colder. Finality.

“What UN?”

Two words. Quiet. Certain.

“There will be no UN after today. The moment those representatives regain their senses and realize the true value of what we found…”