abnormal mutation

Chapter 159 Top-Tier Medical Aesthetics
In the living room, Suleiman and Falk sat facing each other, the steam rising from the tea table blurring their faces.

Suleiman remained calm and composed, with a hint of amusement in his eyes, while Falk looked tense and somewhat unnatural.

Beyana sat on the sofa to the side, a hint of helplessness in her eyes, but she had no right to speak in this situation.

She knew a little about the feud between the two. It was said that they had met many years ago when Falk had just inherited the title and Suleiman was young and impetuous, which led to many disputes.

But they later broke up, not because of women or money, but purely because of differences in their beliefs.

Falk was an imperial nobleman who had enjoyed numerous benefits and privileges since childhood. He was used to a life of ease and was somewhat dismissive of the extraordinary attitude.

Suleiman was born into a prominent family, but the Northern nobility had been abolished long ago for various reasons. He faced various competitions and crises from birth and his pursuit of power was almost obsessive.

Friction and competition frequently erupted between the two business groups. The Bernadotte family was growing increasingly powerful, with influence far exceeding its previous level, while the Northern Union Chamber of Commerce seemed to be declining, and the outcome appeared to be already decided.

However, their mindsets were completely different. Suleiman became increasingly steady and unhurried after entering the higher sequence. Falk, on the other hand, was hesitant and uncertain, feeling that his hard-earned wealth was like a sculpture made of mud and sand, which could collapse at any moment.

In recent years, Volker has taken the initiative to improve relations, and the two companies have engaged in frequent business collaborations, leading to a slight easing of tensions.

Roland's appearance broke the deadlock, allowing the two who hadn't seen each other for many years to reunite prematurely. Without any buffer, the atmosphere was incredibly awkward.

Suleiman chuckled inwardly but didn't say anything.

He had said long ago that the Hitler Empire was unreliable, but now it seems that it's no longer a question of whether it's reliable or not.

Roland hurried downstairs, his eyes scanning the living room, a strange feeling creeping into his mind.

"Uncle, you've come so quickly! I wasn't prepared at all." With that, he waved away the butler and servants, the rest of his words not suitable for others to hear.

"Haha..." Suleiman laughed heartily, stood up and gave Roland a big hug, "Can anyone be faster than you? You've given me too many frights."

"Hehe," Roland said, realizing he was referring to the cargo ship incident, "I just happened to be there, is there a reward?"

"Yes, I guarantee you'll be satisfied," Suleiman said mysteriously.

This morning he issued a notice for a headquarters meeting, ostensibly to discuss the cargo ship incident, but in reality it was a showdown, a way to confront Hussein.

“I’m looking forward to it,” Roland replied with a smile.

Suleiman concealed the shock in his eyes. The speed and fright he spoke of were not only about last night's cargo ship incident, but also about Roland's astonishing changes and rapid progress.

Previously, he could sense Roland's spiritual state, but now he couldn't see through him at all, nor could he perceive his destiny line; it was all a mess.

Falk remained silent, surprised by the close relationship between the two, and even wondered if they were actually related by blood.

"Your Excellency, Lady Beatrice, good afternoon." Roland turned and gestured to the two of them, "Please have a seat."

"I apologize for this unsolicited visit, but it's mainly about Beyana's health," Falk said bluntly, his gaze towards Roland carrying a hint of scrutiny.

He was a mid-sequence Extraordinary, and he knew very well the difficulty of curing congenital limb atrophy without side effects. Even Suleiman was helpless. How could a low-sequence Extraordinary have such an ability?

Roland looked at Beyana, their eyes met, and the girl winked at him, seemingly in a good mood.

“I stand by my words, but whether you believe me or not is up to you and Beyana.”

Suleiman glanced at Falk and said calmly, "Roland never speaks carelessly. I don't know about his bloodline abilities, but he was able to revive dozens of mid-to-high-level colleagues who were on the verge of death at the same time. He must have some confidence."

Falk's expression shifted slightly. Roland actually possessed such abilities, and combined with his extraordinary talent, he couldn't help but feel a greater sense of trust in him.

"What will happen if we fail?" He was still somewhat uneasy about the safety of his granddaughter.

"The chances of failure are very small. Even if we fail, it won't matter. We'll be safe and our lives won't be any worse than they are now." Roland was 99% confident, but he couldn't be too sure.

“I believe you.” Falk nodded solemnly. “Money is no problem, I’ll give you double.”

Things that can be solved with money are not big problems. Favors are hard to repay, and spending money is a transaction, so Beyana doesn't need to feel guilty.

Roland was surprised that Falk was so decisive, even though they had only met twice.

“Beyana?” He looked at the girl beside him.

"My life is in your hands." Beyana's expression was serious; it was difficult for her to remain calm when it involved her own life.

“We can start anytime. Do you need to mentally prepare yourself?” Roland chuckled. “How about we get ready, and meet at the manor tomorrow…”

Before Falk could finish speaking, a cold, metallic hand landed on the back of his hand.

“Right now!” Beyana pouted. “I won’t be able to sleep.”

“Then let’s do it now.” Roland smiled. Beyana was indeed frank. “Let’s go to my room.”

He rose and went upstairs, with Beatrice following behind him with heavy steps. Falk remained motionless, his fingers constantly rubbing his cane.

“You can observe.” Roland turned to look at the two of them.

Volker stood up abruptly, causing Beyana to giggle uncontrollably.

…………

In the spacious bedroom, cobwebs filled the air, and Beyana floated in mid-air, with countless threads crisscrossing and piercing through every inch of her flesh.

In the corner, Falk's eyes were filled with horror. He was on the edge of the spider web, and he felt a sense of helplessness, as if he had nowhere to escape and was trapped in a cage. His hair stood on end, and he wanted to escape immediately.

'Divinity!'

Suleiman was absolutely certain, but no matter how hard he racked his brains, he couldn't understand why this was happening.

'Could he be a descendant of gods reincarnated?!'

He shook his head slightly, rejecting his own idea. The descendants of gods are extraordinary from birth, and there is no such thing as a late bloomer.

"Close your eyes, relax your mind, and don't resist."

Roland's gentle voice rang in Beyana's ears. She took a few deep breaths, but her mind was a jumbled mess, completely out of her control.

Suddenly, her body felt light, and with a few heavy thuds as the metal limbs quietly detached from her body.

'No pain!' A sense of trust inexplicably arose in her heart.

It's important to know that her metal limbs weren't actually attached; they were connected to her flesh and bones and directly controlled by nerves, making disassembly extremely difficult.

Roland remained expressionless. Disassembling metal limbs was no problem for him, let alone painless dismemberment.

Instead of rushing to repair her limbs, they delved into the depths of Beyana's bloodline, repairing her little by little from the source of her blood.

This is like restoring a damaged ancient painting. You need to remove the tattered and dirty parts, protect, weave, repair, and integrate it, and then "color" it according to its original bloodline code. You must avoid adding anything superfluous.

He lacked experience in weaving bloodlines, so he focused on maintaining the original state.

The whole process took two hours, which was extremely mentally taxing, and even Roland, with his physical condition, felt a little tired.

'The price of the [Talent Upgrade] is a bit too low.' He sighed inwardly; weaving roots is much more difficult than this.

Next is smoothing over the distortion of the soul, something he did last night, so he's very familiar with it.

Before repairing the limbs, Roland had an idea and decided to build a model first.

Countless life fibers danced across Beiana's skin, forming a graceful female mannequin based on her body, with a figure even more alluring than Beiana's.

He temporarily grafted control of the model onto Beyana's soul, and to make sure she could see it, he deliberately coated the fibers with a flesh-colored layer.

“Beyana?” he called softly.

"What's wrong? Is it over?" Beyana opened her eyes and found that she could move, but she was still suspended in mid-air, with a strange layer of hollowed-out skin floating on her body.

"Well, here's the thing, your illness has been cured, and the next step is to repair your limbs. Now, you have an opportunity to adjust your body; you can decide on your height, measurements, skin, hair texture, and so on."

"Concentrate on sensing this model, think it over carefully, and tell me when you've adjusted it." Roland waved his hand and retreated outside the room.

Beyana was stunned for a moment, but quickly understood what he meant. A blush crept up her neck and onto her cheeks. She instinctively wanted to cover her face, but her two bare arms moved at her will.

(End of this chapter)