Part 2The Harpy’s Curse and the Broken Scholars

Stella’s face darkened instantly. The look in her eyes was like a poisoned

blade, promising to devour me whole if I dared to nod in agreement.

"I’m sorry, but I’ve already decided on a new research direction. And frankly, I

have zero interest in partnering with Stella," I said, cutting off any

possibility of negotiation.

The Director opened his mouth to try and persuade me, but Stella cut him off

harshly.

Her jaw twitched, a muscle pulsing in her cheek as she forced a cold laugh. "If

he's going to be so ungrateful, why waste your breath, Director? I wouldn't want

to share a room with a sewer rat who steals from his colleagues anyway."

"A 'new research direction'… I wonder which poor soul he stole that from."

At that moment, Toby’s sharp eyes landed on the thick stack of files at my side.

He gasped, covering his mouth theatrically.

"You're not going to work on the amphibious mutant species, are you? I’ve been

the one leading that research! What you're holding has to be the raw data I

spent nights compiling!"

"Oliver, have you no shame? Are you going to steal my hard work, too?"

I casually flipped through the file, my gaze cold as I stared him down.

"Stolen from you? Again? Toby, is it that your brain is so incapable of

producing anything of value that you assume every research breakthrough in the

world must have been stolen from you?"

In all his years at the institute, he hadn't even managed to win a third-rate

regional prize.

The jab hit its mark. His eyes reddened, and he shrank behind Stella like a

wronged child.

"It just looked familiar, I was just saying! I never said for sure that you

stole it. Oliver, why do you have to humiliate me like that?"

Stella hugged him protectively, patting his back as if soothing a puppy. Her

glare at me was murderous.

She lunged forward, snatched the file from my hands, and, in front of everyone,

ripped it to shreds with a vicious shrrriiip.

"It's just a few scraps of paper! What's the big deal? I could produce a dozen

better proposals for Toby with my eyes closed. You enjoy twisting the knife,

don't you? Waving this in his face just to feel superior?"

That was the culmination of six months of fieldwork, countless trips to remote

observation sites. In her eyes, it was worth less than a single one of Toby's

crocodile tears.

She turned to the Director, her tone an undisguised threat. "Do you see now?

Oliver is nothing but a bully who preys on the weak. If the board insists on

forcing me to partner with a piece of trash like him, I'll quit the project

altogether!"

The Director panicked. The institute couldn't afford to lose a star like Stella.

He quickly capitulated.

"Alright, alright! Toby it is. You and Toby will form the special research

team."

Toby peeked out from behind Stella's shoulder, shooting me a look of pure

provocation and contempt. I just shrugged, turning to leave the toxic room.

"Stop," Stella's voice, sharp and commanding, cut through the air. She had

regained her icy, superior composure.

"Now that Toby is my partner, you will vacate your private lab for him. Also,

you'll take over all the menial tasks the Dean assigned him. He needs to be

well-rested for the intense research ahead."

The sheer audacity of her gangster-like demands made me laugh.

"My private lab was granted to me for winning a national gold medal last year.

On what grounds should I give it to him? And why should I be his free labor for

the work he's supposed to do?"

In this brutally competitive institute, only top-tier researchers who had won

national-level honors or higher were granted a private lab. It wasn't just about

resources; it was a symbol of status.

Toby didn't deserve it. The administration had considered making an exception

for him once, pulling strings just for him.

But then I won that prestigious gold medal. Stella herself had marched into the

Dean's office and, with a grand gesture, donated a fortune to outfit it with

state-of-the-art equipment, turning it into a world-class facility as a

"surprise" for me.

"Oliver, this is my first big gift to you. Be a good boy, and there'll be more

where that came from."

Those words, once spoken with a mix of pride and tenderness, now dripped with

nothing but ice.

"I’m the one who funded that lab for you. Now, I’m taking it back. Because you

are no longer worthy of it."

That single sentence was a dull, rusty knife carving a bloody, ragged wound in

my chest.

I clenched my jaw, swallowing the metallic taste of blood that rose in my

throat, and answered, word by word.

"Fine. The lab is his. But as for the Dean's assignments, I won't write a single

damn comma for him."

That lab was filled with her presence, with things that were never truly mine.

They felt tainted. I was ready to leave it all behind.