Dumping The Ice King His Mini-Tyrant novel Chapter 451

“Professor, aren’t you basically handing Draco Research Institute over on a silver platter?”

Leo Vaughn replied calmly, “I want to usher Draco Research Institute into a new era.”

He looked at Selene Thompson and said, “I’ve led Draco Research Institute for seven years. For all these years, we’ve worked quietly in the shadows. But today’s world is nothing like it used to be.

I’ve never been comfortable in the spotlight, so I want you to take the reins.

Ms. Thompson, I’m counting on you to make Draco Research Institute a household name. I’m entrusting you to rally more scientists, to give them the recognition and attention they deserve.”

It was as if a gentle spring breeze stirred the surface of a lake—Selene’s blue-green eyes shimmered with emotion.

“Professor, that’s exactly what I was hoping for, too.”

She tightened her grip on the contract. “What’s the base salary for an entry-level researcher at Draco?”

“Around a hundred thousand a year. With government grants and supplements, the average last year was about a hundred and eighty thousand.”

Selene nodded thoughtfully. “At Gwyneth Lockridge’s company, QuanTech Innovations, new graduates start at three thousand a month. OmniCore Technologies once offered me a base salary of a million, plus a matching project bonus and profit sharing. Over at Zentek Innovations—my brother’s firm—tech staff average four thousand a month.”

Leo’s expression turned awkward. The institute’s annual research budget already ran into the millions; government funding barely scratched the surface. Draco was among the top ten research centers in the country, but with hundreds of thousands of labs clamoring for support, research funds were always stretched thin.

For years, Leo had used his own business earnings to subsidize Draco’s operations. He’d already given employees the best benefits he could manage—free meals and housing, priority treatment at military hospitals if they fell ill.

“If I raised staff salaries by just a thousand a month,” he explained, “other labs wouldn’t be able to recruit anyone, or they’d start losing people. Morale across the research sector would suffer.”

That was why Leo could only pay employees the average wage for labs in the capital.

Selene replied, “I know you’re not just asking me to improve salaries at Draco. The whole research industry needs reform and change. But I…”

She hesitated, uncertainty flickering across her face.

“Give it a try, Ms. Thompson.”

Leo’s voice was gentle, like a cool breeze blowing through a mountain valley. “You’ve done well these past seven years. Everyone’s been waiting for your return.”

A flush crept up Selene’s neck. Her gaze drifted to Leo’s legs.

She parted her lips, her voice rough with emotion. “I haven’t done as well as I should have. If I’d acted sooner… Professor, your legs wouldn’t…”

Five years earlier, she’d stepped off the operating table, utterly defeated.

The day she had her difficult delivery, Harrison Vaughn was at Disneyland, watching fireworks with Felicity Thompson.

She’d opened her phone to see Felicity’s latest post: a photo of herself with Harrison beneath a shower of castle fireworks, gazing into each other’s eyes.

“Someone’s feeling generous tonight—Disneyland is all mine!” the caption read.

Selene tossed her phone aside in frustration.

She’d tried deleting Felicity before—every time she did, Felicity would whine to Harrison, and he’d make Selene add her back.

“Felicity just wants to be friends. Why’d you delete her?”

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