It was because of that did her father remember that she knew Martin and wondered if he could help
them cultivate a good impression before Mr. Wyance.
After all, it was said that the project’s internal scheduling had determined that the tender was to be
done by the governor, so it was almost up to Mr. Wyance to decide who to give the tender to.
Thinking of this, Joyce subconsciously stirred the glass rod in the beaker. The experimental data was
no longer in her mind, only her worries about her family.
After all, she could only continue to comfortably be a doctor if the McCarthy family was prosperous, and
if they were to lose again in this tender, her quality of life would likely see a downgrade.
Thinking of this, a surge of emotion flashed across Joyce’s eyes as she subconsciously looked at
Martin with an obvious pleading look on her face.
Martin, who was stern with her but still extended a helping hand, was her only hope.
When she thought of that, her eyes looking at Martin were like a greedy fisher who found the riches of
the deep.
Martin was focused on the cell activity of the experiment and paid no attention to Joyce’s gaze.
He was very ambitious, and the purpose of this experiment would scare people witless.
Even the members of his own team had no idea what his ultimate goal was.
It was just that whenever he was just a step away, there would be a thin barrier standing between him
and the level he wanted to achieve.
This was the closest he ever was to his dream, and success or failure all depended on this.
Martin did not stop personally adjusting the temperature of the biological solution in the test tube. His
eyes were locked onto the numbers displayed on the instrument penal as he closed in on that threshold
he had been dreaming of!
Yet just a second before it reached that threshold, all of the cells in the test tube suddenly stopped
moving and then lost all activity one by one.
And the numbers on the instrument rapidly fell.
This was the Nth number of failures now, and Martin’s eyes were a little red from staying up late. He
rubbed his rather pale face as he walked out with an unsteady step, not even bothering to take off his
gloves.
He thought it would definitely be successful this time.
This was already his limit, yet he was still unable to keep the cells alive in that state, even after he had
added his improved oxygenase as an auxiliary reagent. It was still useless.
Martin suddenly felt a little despair. He put his hand into his pocket and then pulled out a cigarette
before lighting it up and bit it by the side of his mouth.
His team members originally wanted to come over to console him. Their ability to endure was far better
than Martin’s as the latter had poured his heart and soul into this experiment, and every failure meant a
complete rebuke of himself.
So far, the last attempt was the closest one to success.
It was just a tenth of a second away, and his new active enzyme invention would be successful.
Yet, they did not know that the active enzyme they thought they were researching was only a binding
reagent Martin was using to assist with his experiment.
Upon seeing Martin pulling out a cigarette, the few people around him looked at each other and, with
tacit understanding, did not move forward anymore.
Their team leader would only smoke when he was at his emotional limits.
No one dared to go piss him off at this juncture.
Martin seemed to be looking ahead but also seemed to be not looking at anything at all. His eyes were
blank and unfocused.
He took a deep puff as he let out a rare look of exhaustion.
‘Do I have the right to chase after that miracle doctor?’
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