Chapter 391: Clara Whitmore Suggested Abruptly

"Why don't we apply for our own lab?" Clara Whitmore suggested abruptly.

Maya Torres' chip bag hit the floor with a rustle.

Noah Kessler's pen left a long streak across his paper.

"Professor Caldwell..." Maya hesitated.

"The old lady is more open-minded than you think," Clara chuckled. "She's the one who hinted at this idea."

That afternoon, Noah submitted the application through the academic system.

System notification: Feedback within three business days.

Three days later, a glaring red alert flashed on the screen: Application denied.

Reason: Lab resources fully allocated.

"Strange," Clara frowned. "I saw that lab empty yesterday. The lock was rusted."

Maya crunched a chip loudly. "Someone's sabotaging us, aren't they?"

Noah closed his laptop and marched straight to the academic office.

"That lab is clearly vacant. Why claim it's full?"

The administrator pulled up the system. "See? It shows unavailable here. Let me check the records..."

Mouse clicks echoed sharply in the quiet office.

"Found it. Approved to Derek Romano three days ago. He's from your department—you must know him?"

Noah's eyes darkened.

Derek already had his own private lab, with special funding and equipment from the university.

"How about Lab B-174 or C-112?" the administrator offered helpfully.

Noah shook his head.

Their research required the CPRT Analyzer. Only two existed in the entire department.

One was permanently reserved by Professor Voss's team. The other sat in the lab they'd just been denied.

"So now we can't even access the equipment?" Maya's breakfast wrap plopped onto the table.

"This is blatant resource hoarding! I'm going to the professor!"

Clara grabbed her arm.

"Professor's at her medical checkup today," Noah said quietly.

Maya deflated instantly.

Professor Caldwell's health had always been fragile—her office perpetually smelled of herbal remedies.

"What now?" She looked between her teammates.

"The system process was followed correctly." Noah adjusted his glasses. "Derek did apply before us."

Only one solution remained...

"Talk to Derek directly," Clara declared.

The trio stood in the hallway as the lab door creaked open.

Derek stepped out, peeling off gloves, his white coat stained with chemical splatters.