Chapter 101: Who’s the Mastermind?

[Donald’s Perspective]

Coming out of Benjamin’s dimly lit lab, I was still trying to figure out who was behind this.

Although progress on the study of drug ingredients was not very helpful to us at the moment, it unexpectedly opened up a new line of thought, allowing us to get to the root of the problem.

Who was the person behind all this? And why was he doing this?

I’d discussed this with Elliot before. It wasn’t as if we hadn’t suspected that the ultimate goal of whoever was behind this might be me.

After all, there were too many people who could have designs on me. However, it was precisely because of this that we were unable to deduce the murderer from any angle. There were too many people with motives.

Benjamin’s discovery made me realize that if there really was such a genius master who was good at medicine, would he be willing to fall behind others? And he would not easily hand over such a confidential and exquisite formula to others. If there was a conflict between them and the other party wanted to kill him to silence him, how could he protect himself?

Then the most likely possibility was that the mastermind was the person who made the drug.

This was the only way he could ensure that he would hold sway over everyone. As long as he used the drug, he could easily control his subordinates. Then he would build a distinct hierarchical structure and distribute power and drugs accordingly. He did not need much force to command thousands of troops.

I had a lightbulb moment.

Force!

What kind of person would want to research such a drug? Typically, the original intention of researching medicine was to treat illnesses and save people. Therefore, be it the content of a professor or the content of voluntary learning, it was mainly about treatment.

But this drug ran contrary to treatment. According to Benjamin, it was just stimulating or even overdrafting a person’s physical fitness. Did this person choose to study such a drug because he was not very strong himself, or even weak?

Werewolves were a race that advocated power. This was even more so among the royal Lycans.

If the person behind the scenes had excellent intelligence but a relatively weak body, this would explain why he studied this drug.

Previously, because of the ferocity of the attackers and their ruthlessness, we had imagined them to be an organized and armed group. However, from the current discovery, most of the attackers who had escaped the drug were not very strong.

Only the weak would desperately want to become stronger and use abnormal methods to seek strength. However, the strong were always in the minority, and most of us were ordinary people. If the other party used such a method to win over the hearts of the people, he could indeed quickly gather a group of supporters.

As I pondered the implications, I looked up and realized that I had unknowingly walked back to Margaret’s room.

From outside the door, I heard a gasp, then a conversation between three people.

“Anthony… How is he? Where is he?” I heard Margaret’s sister say.

“Elliot.” It was Margaret’s voice.

My little wolf, my stubborn and willful mate, seemed to be struggling to keep her composure.

She always acted like an elder sister in front of her sister, wanting to protect everyone. This kind of behavior was a little silly and even a little overestimating herself, but it was also a little cute.

“Can we go see Anthony?” Margaret asked.

“That depends on His Majesty’s approval,” Elliot said.

At this, I pushed open the door and saw the three people in a stalemate.

Margaret had got out of bed, still standing a little unsteadily, and was holding her sister. Elliot was standing to one side, looking anxious and helpless.

From where Margaret was, she was the first to see me. I saw her eyes light up as if she was about to walk over.

I quickly took a few steps forward and held her. I scolded her in a low voice, “You’re still injured. Why are you moving? Who told you to get off the bed?”

“Why are you back so early?” Margaret asked, her eyes sparkling.

Elliot saw me now and called out, “Your Majesty.”

I nodded and pulled Margaret back to bed. After a quick check, I turned to Elliot and said, “What happened?”

“Well, the Beta of the Silver Moon Tribe has just been attacked. They want to visit, and I’m in a difficult position. Your Majesty, it’s good that you’re here. I’ll go over there and look at the situation first,” Elliot replied.

I waved him off and looked down at Margaret. “You want to see that Beta?” I asked.

Margaret’s eyes rolled and she stammered, “Ah, yes. We… knew each other before. I wanted to see him when I heard he was injured.”

I raised an eyebrow, sensing she was hiding something.