When Jiang Wu entered the Fu Medical Group with three death certificates, the laser barcode under his collarbone was burning hot.
As a dark horse CEO in the biotechnology industry, no one knew that she had undergone plastic surgery to replace her twin sister's identity, nor did they know that the jade bracelet she carried contained nanomagnetic particles that could rewrite human memory.
The moment Fu Chenzhou's albino finger touched her carotid artery, the instruments in the entire genetic testing room suddenly went crazy.
Ms. Jiang's heartbeat rate was 0.37 Hz faster than that of the corpse in the morgue last week. The red eyes under his silver hair flashed with data. Why don't you explain why your mitochondria exactly match the first-generation experimental subjects of the Pandora Project thirty years ago?
When the countdown to the nuclear explosion lit up in the gene bank and Jiang Wu's dagger pierced Fu Chenzhou's chest, three hundred cultivation chambers were opened at the same time.
Dear original, he kissed her experiment number with blood in his blood. Do you think these iterations are made of our son's unborn embryonic stem cells, or your mother's ovary samples from that year?
This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.
