Chapter 1805

Chris stared coldly at the group of so-called doctors.

Maybe his intense gaze intimidated them—the doctors exchanged glances and quickly withdrew the needle, injecting only half the syringe before hastily leaving in a fluster.

In the room, a few servants remained, tending to Harvey.

Weakly, Harvey slumped onto the bed, his face pale.

Chris pulled Toph away, leading him out. This place didn't evoke any artistic vibes for him. Instead, it felt eerie.

Exiting the gates of the Newhouse residence, Chris breathed a sigh of relief.

Toph looked at him oddly and asked what was going on.

Chris frowned and slowly uttered, "The sedative..."

"What?"

"Don't you think there's something wrong with that stuff?"

Toph pondered for a moment, sensing that something might indeed be amiss. "Chris, tell me!"

"Back then, I had someone get a special drug for Aunt Linda," Chris said in a low voice. "It's what special forces and international spies use. It can make people lose their memory."

Realizati