Chapter 1608 I Need People to Help Me, the More the Better
Calla slowly tidied her messy hair and grabbed a tissue to wipe her mouth. "Raymond, how many people do you have outside?"
Raymond instantly knew the map was from her. However, as one of the top researchers here, she shouldn't have had any chance to escape.
"There are about twenty people at the research base. If you mean outside the base, as many as you need."
Calla rubbed her temples and started walking out. Raymond followed her down the long corridor.
When they reached the research station, she gripped the cold edge of the table with both hands. "As many as I need, huh? That's a satisfactory answer."
"Who are you?" Raymond asked.
Calla stared blankly at a vial in front of her, a slight smile tugging at her lips. "I need people to help me, as many as possible. I want to get out of here."
She needed help, which was why she targeted Raymond. Sending out that map must have taken everything she had. Even though she had gained enough trust within the base, she still couldn't leave.
"How did you manage to send out that map?" Raymond added.
Calla took a sip of water from a nearby glass. In just a short time, sweat was already beading on her forehead.
"It was a life-or-death situation. I couldn't make the map too clear, but luckily, you understood it."
Raymond had been able to decipher it because he knew about the secret passage in Mystic Prison. By backtracking from the passage's location, he figured it out.
The map would have been incomprehensible to most people.
So he guessed that the other location marked was the research base.
It was a mix of luck and deduction, especially since he was investigating the base at the time.
Calla rubbed her temples again; her mental state seemed unstable, and she was sweating profusely.
"Dr. Griffin, what do you want me to do?"
"First, kill Manuel."
Raymond didn't ask why she wanted Manuel dead. He could sense a strong emotion in her voice—not hatred, but disgust.
"Alright, after killing Manuel, then what? Dr. Griffin, do you have a way out?"
"No, but I can now provide you with a plan to get out. I was too weak on my own before."
Raymond raised an eyebrow. "Dr. Griffin, I've been here for over a week. Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
"My condition has been unstable."
"What do you mean?"
Calla rubbed her temples again, sweat dripping down her face and onto her white lab coat. "A few years ago, I helped a man who looked a bit like you. He was the only one who managed to escape from here over the years. He was quite capable. I thought he wouldn't survive the experiments and would die here."
Raymond's chest tightened. He didn't need her to elaborate; he knew who that man was—his brother, Christopher.
Calla pulled out a cigarette, her fingers trembling slightly. "He had a high aptitude for medicine. The base valued his talents, and he was very cautious, but he eventually slipped up. I thought he would die, and it would be an undignified death. He had to endure countless experiments every day. The base was researching how to copy a person's memory and transfer it to another's brain. The technology existed but was not yet perfected."
Raymond remained silent, listening intently.
"He was the only perfect test subject. Out of hundreds of thousands of experiments, his data was the most flawless. The base locked him in a research chamber, planning to keep him there until he died. After many more experiments, he was handed over to me. Officially, I was experimenting on him, but in reality, I was helping him recover. I gave him the privilege to use the lab equipment. Do you know what he discovered?"
Raymond shook his head.
Calla smiled slightly and flicked the ash from her cigarette.
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