I'm a proper student; I only take nine kinds of potions every day.

Forem gazed at the closed door and sighed softly.

"This young man is really quite good."

"That's good. Then, become a part of us."

Sudden.

A faceless, purple head with only a huge eyeball slowly bulged out from the right side of Forem's neck.

The single pupil spun under the lamp, reflecting the departing figure of Evan, and emitted a viscous, greedy, almost swallowing saliva-like murmur.

Immediately afterwards, another red head popped out from Forem's left shoulder.

That head had no eyes and no nose.

The places that should have been for facial features were now covered with dense, jagged fangs.

Each one curled outwards slightly, like shards of porcelain emerging from the soil of a dug grave.

"Kill! Kill!"

That blood-red maw roared madly.

"Kill all those who are better than us! Make them all part of us!"

"Shut up!"

Forem's gentle face suddenly darkened, and he sternly rebuked them, stretching out his hands and forcefully pressing down the two heads on either side.

But in that very instant...

The muscles in his own face began to change violently and erratically.

A moment later, it was anger.

For a moment, it's greed.

For a moment, there was rational anxiety.

Each expression lingered on his face for only half a second before being brutally replaced by the next.

The core weakness of virtuous people: a split personality on a material level.

One soul splits into several personalities, all vying for the same body.

Each personality desires more physical bodies.

……

When Evan finally returned to Guding Street on the tram, his pocket watch showed 8:30.

He jumped out of the car and turned into the familiar Bee Restaurant at the street corner.

At this hour, most of the round tables in the shop were empty, leaving only two dockworkers chatting quietly in a corner over a jug of whiskey.

Evan ordered a large portion of stewed beef, one and a half loaves of black bread, and three tomatoes for thirty cents. He even wiped the soup broth clean with the bread.

When he got home, he casually tossed his schoolbag onto the edge of the table without turning on the light.

In the dark corner of the stairwell, a nest of newly moved-in rats hadn't even settled in when his deputy's brass-colored spiked middle finger wiped them out cleanly and swiftly.

The whole family's warm rat blood quickly entered his stomach.

They were well-fed and had plenty of blood.

Evan leaned against the edge of the bed and took a breath, suddenly remembering Uncle Parker's face covered in thick bandages by the dock.

"Now I am capable."

Without changing his clothes, he simply put on a felt hat, pushed open the door, went downstairs, and hurried towards the dock area.

The dock area remains bustling even at night.

Kerosene chandeliers hung one after another along the pier, casting a dim, yellowish glow over the piles of wooden crates, sacks, and cast iron anchor chains.

Ivan walked through the figures carrying sacks and pushing carts until he arrived at the wooden door of Bryce Transport Company.

I happened to see Parker squatting on the small steps outside the company's porch.

He held an old handkerchief folded into a square in one hand and covered his mouth tightly.

He rested his other hand on his knee, his shoulders heaving.

"Give it your all!"

He squeezed out a few words from under his handkerchief, followed by a suppressed cough that seemed to rip out his lungs.

"Ahem... Hurry up, everyone..."

Standing twenty paces away, Evan could tell just how badly Parker's condition had deteriorated that day with just a glance.

That originally pale red, bulbous nose now had a purplish tinge.

Half of his face was still wrapped in gauze that was already soaked with pus, and the edges of the gauze had turned black.

His whole body was hunched over, as if he had been crushed by his own tweed work coat.

Parker struggled to support his knees and slowly straightened up.

The young, newly arrived foreman reached out to help him, but then withdrew his hand halfway, fearing he might catch the illness.

"Hey, boss Parker, you're so sick, why don't you go to the clinic to get checked out?"

The young man lowered his voice, speaking half-jokingly and half-testing.

"Don't worry, you go and rest first. I won't take your place in the next couple of days."

Parker suddenly raised his hand, his eyes bloodshot, and squeezed out a sentence from deep in his throat.

"I'm perfectly fine, I just have a cold."

After saying that, he took out a palm-sized paper bag from his coat pocket, poured out a few white aspirin pills that were already smeared with sweat, and without saying a word, stuffed them into his mouth and chewed them dry.

pain.

Every inch of my body aches.

It hurts in the gaps between my bones, it hurts under my fingernails, and even the base of my tongue hurts.

But he didn't dare ask for leave.

Countless eyes were fixed on this spot.

Every man making a living at this dock wants to move up an inch, every man wants to hold onto a respectable job that comes with wages, the right to sign contracts, and no need to carry sacks every day.

He would rather die than let go.

Chapter 93: The ceremony failed, and we even lost 100 yuan.

Cough cough cough cough!

A violent coughing fit struck him, and he instinctively turned his head to the side, coughing up a large mouthful of thick, yellowish-green phlegm mixed with blood into the nearby ditch.

The young foreman beside him caught a glimpse of this scene out of the corner of his eye, and a flash of joy immediately crossed his eyes.

Without making a sound, he raised his hand to adjust the brim of his hat, turned around, and quietly ran up to the lit window on the second floor of the company.

Parker didn't see it.

He felt dizzy and disoriented, the light from the row of kerosene lamps swirling in front of him, and strange noises echoing in his ears.

"Am I really going to die?"

His heart skipped a beat, a terror he had never experienced before, mixed with despair, rushed straight to his head.

He has so many things he can't bear to part with now.

A clever son, a well-behaved and adorable daughter...

His virtuous and hardworking wife would prepare a midnight snack for him every day after he returned home at midnight.

I watched him finish eating while laughing.

While sleeping, I would hold his arm and whisper cheesy love lines about wanting to be together forever.

He couldn't imagine how heartbroken his wife and children would be if he died, and how difficult their lives would be!

"Damn Kerry!"

He knew how it came about.

But by then it was too late to complain.

"My God."

Parker's lips moved, but he barely made a sound.

“I have followed you devoutly since I was a child.”

"If you could restore my health to normal..."

He gritted his teeth.

"I will never drink alcohol again, and I will never smoke those cheap cigarettes again."

"I will cherish her for the rest of my life! I will not have any other thoughts."

"I want to buy her the new leather shoes she's been talking about for half a year, and those suede gloves for winter..."

"I want to make up for what I owe her..."

The more excited he became, the more dizzy he felt.

But he also knew that this was just his fantasy.

In his extreme pain, he seemed to miss home.

Just as he turned to leave...

A familiar, clear voice, characteristic of young people, rang out from beside me.

"Uncle Parker."

Parker slowly raised his face, which was half-submerged in shadow.

His vision was so blurry that he could barely make out the facial features, but he recognized the outline of the body at a glance.