Not expecting Fred to ask her, Rhea was taken aback. "I..."

"You heard the queen. What's the success rate?" Fred pressed.

Not knowing the answer, Rhea gritted her teeth and murmured, "Theoretically speaking—"

"Twenty-three percent," Lily interrupted.

Rhea gave Lily a puzzled look. Did she just pull a random figure out of thin air?

Without glancing at Rhea, Lily added solemnly, "And this is only a rough estimate. Success also depends on the surgeons, the level of pre-operative cooperation, the condition of the test subjects, and so on. Taking all these factors into consideration, the success rate could be as high as forty-five percent or as low as less than ten percent."

Fred listened intently, seemingly forgetting Lily was the patient, not the surgeon.

"You heard that?" the queen asked Fred gravely.

"Well..." Fred blinked, then recovered. "She's just trying to dissuade you from the experiment, Your Majesty. Don't let her fool you again. Have you forgotten your dream? How can we stop now, when we're so close to success? We're all set; I've even brought in the best neurosurgeons. Rest assured, Your Majesty, the experiment will succeed."

The queen laughed. "You're telling me not to trust her, but to trust you instead?" She gestured toward Lily. "She's the expert who developed the drug. You told me she was the best person for the job. Now you're telling me not to trust her? I ended up in this state because I trusted you!"

With a shrug, Fred said flatly, "Your Majesty, I admit she's capable and has contributed, but don't forget she's now a test subject. To save herself, she'd say anything. Trust me on this. The experiment will work. You've trusted me all these years, haven't you? Just trust me on this too."

The queen stared at Fred for a long moment, then said, "So you truly believe the success rate is very high?"