The Unveiling of Secret Queen

Nathalie Quinlan put down the napkin, turned her head, and her dark, deep eyes looked at him again, silent for a moment, before nodding.

”I’ll consider it.”

Nicholas Fuller breathed a sigh of relief, and couldn’t help but smile: ”Alright, I’ll wait for your response!”

Nathalie Quinlan narrowed her eyes slightly, still unable to discern what position he held at The First Research Institute.

But she didn’t dwell on it too much, picked up the duckbill cap on the table again, pressed the brim down, got up, and asked Nicholas Fuller: ”Do you want to leave together?”

Nicholas Fuller also prepared to stand up, just as his phone flickered. He took out his phone to glance at the message, then apologized to the girl: ”I have something to handle, how about you go ahead first?”

”Mhmm.” Nathalie Quinlan, although unaware of his business, rarely pried into others’ personal affairs. Just then, Amadeus Yancey’s phone call came in, so she nodded and casually picked up her black single shoulder bag, telling Nicholas Fuller: ”Thanks for the meal today, I’ll treat you next time.”

They were sort of online acquaintances for several years.

Occasionally, they would chat a few sentences.

Nathalie Quinlan never really thought about Nicholas Fuller having reached his sixtieth year, and having pursued her for several years due to a post she made on the WAL forum, even joining Black Mandala.

But regardless, their years of interaction couldn’t be erased with a few sentences.

She wasn’t very skilled at interacting with elder figures, yet Nicholas Fuller was both like an elder and a friend to her.

Nicholas Fuller initially thought that after meeting him, she wouldn’t interact as naturally as before, yet before leaving, the girl mentioned inviting him next time. He was slightly stunned, then couldn’t help but smile, his face full of joy. Very straightforward: ”Alright, I’ll wait until you have time.”

”Mhmm.” Nathalie Quinlan’s strikingly exquisite face didn’t show much expression. She nodded without saying more, took her bag, and left first.

...

In the private room, Nicholas Fuller watched the girl’s retreating figure, then took out his phone and looked at the message from Orson Saban.

”A few of my students are dining at the Ocean Pavilion. They would like to meet you. Do you have time?”

Nicholas Fuller leaned back against the chair, his weathered face with two deeply sunken eyes, profound and bright, looked very spirited.

He and Orson Saban were lifelong friends for decades, with excellent private relations.

Orson Saban had already spoken up, and in the past, he would have agreed no matter what and made time to meet the few people from the Level 8 laboratory.

Only today he was emotionally stirred, unable to calm down for a long time, so he wasn’t in the mood to handle these social interactions.

He dialed Orson Saban, got up, and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window in the private room.

The call quickly connected.

Orson Saban was likely in his private laboratory, probably just busy: ”Hello, Director, what’s up?”

Nicholas Fuller was close with him and didn’t beat around the bush: ”I just saw the message you sent me. I’m afraid I won’t be able to meet them. Let’s talk about it next time.”

He is the head of The First Research Institute.

Nicholas Fuller not wanting to meet Harvey Cadorette and the others was normal, Orson Saban didn’t think much of it, replied: ”I’ll tell them later.”

Nicholas Fuller didn’t hang up the phone; after talking about the few people from the Level 8 laboratory, he suddenly brought it up: ”Does your Level 8 lab still need people? I have someone I want to recommend to you.”

Orson Saban didn’t react for a moment.