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

Two swords were crossed on his back, with the hilts protruding from his shoulders and wrapped with black leather straps.

He had three leather waist bags of different sizes hanging from his waist, bulging and full, and it was unclear what they contained.

Her long, silver hair shimmered with a soft, cool light in the night, reaching her waist with slightly curled ends.

What is most striking about her are her eyes: a pair of golden vertical pupils, irises of pure amber gold, and pupils that are vertical slits.

They glowed faintly in the darkness, like two small lanterns.

She has a classic oval face, high brow bone, high nose bridge, and three-dimensional and delicate features.

He looked to be in his early twenties, radiating youthful energy and a certain impetuousness of someone just starting out.

The silence was broken first by the vampire.

"The Witcher".

A deep, angry voice squeezed out from that pale face, and fangs gleamed coldly in the moonlight.

"This is not your territory."

His tone was full of anger, but that anger was not directed at Evan, but at the silver-haired woman in front of him.

He was furious that he had been controlled in some way, and furious that this had caused such a huge mess.

"The Witcher?"

Ivan's ears perked up, and his eyes lit up.

The Witcher...

The Demon Hunter!

The three characters together sound like the name of a legitimate organization.

Hope. Variable. It's finally here.

Upon hearing the vampire's words, the silver-haired woman did not back down. Instead, she stepped forward, her sword tip firmly pointed at his throat.

His chin was slightly raised, and his tone carried a youthful pride and unwillingness to admit defeat.

"This is not your territory either, vampires."

She paused for a moment, a disdainful smile curving her lips.

"This is the territory of those capitalists."

Ivan sat on the floor, his mind racing faster than ever.

The information was pieced together within seconds: Witchers, official or semi-official supernatural organizations.

They are the opposite of vampires, possess combat capabilities, have organizational structures, and have a concept of territory.

As for myself, a poor student from the bottom class who has just touched the threshold of the extraordinary, what I need most right now is a big tree to lean on.

Pris was a tree, but that tree could eat him at any moment.

This one in front of us might be the second one.

The plan takes shape in a second.

"Master! You've finally arrived!"

Evan sprang to his feet with a somersault, pretending to have just recovered from his shock.

He rushed to the silver-haired woman in two strides, standing precisely between her and the vampire.

He used the back of his head to shield the woman's bewildered expression, preventing the vampire from seeing any flaws in his demeanor.

"I almost got killed by this vampire!"

His voice carried a perfect tremor of relief and grievance, while he, with his back to the vampire, frantically winked at the woman.

The silver-haired woman was stunned for less than half a second.

Those golden vertical pupils flashed for a moment, then they understood.

Her expression quickly shifted back to that calm and dignified demeanor, her tone as flat as if she were stating something perfectly normal.

"Don't worry, with your master here, no one can touch you."

She shielded Evan behind her, held her longsword across her chest, and looked past Evan's shoulder, staring directly at the vampire.

“Go back and tell your master. Arkham is my student, Hill Adolf.”

"Drug trials are fine, but don't go too far."

The vampire, now completely free from control, stood in the moonlight, his scarlet eyes scanning back and forth between the two people, his face as gloomy as the sea before a storm.

He was furious.

But he was powerless to do anything about it.

He knew he couldn't beat this vile woman.

My recent experience on Guding Street has proven this point.

He had no doubts about the relationship between the two.

Just now, when I lost control, this kid named Arkham actually knew that his master was Pris.

How could an ordinary test subject possibly know this kind of information?

In addition, there was his drug resistance, which far exceeded that of ordinary people.

Nine times out of ten, it was a plan that the Witcher planted in the Sage's ranks from the very beginning.

"Despicable bastard."

The vampire snorted coldly, and his body vanished into the darkness in an instant, like smoke dispersed by the night wind.

The silver-haired woman stared at the direction he had disappeared in for a second, then chased after the empty night and began to curse.

"You're the lowlifes! You vampires are all lowlifes!"

She cursed five or six times, her voice growing louder with each curse, her long silver hair swinging wildly with her agitated movements.

Only after confirming that the other party had indeed gone far away did she sheathe her sword, let out a long breath, and let her shoulders slump slightly.

Ivan stood behind her, watching her back, his right hand touching his chin, his mind racing.

"That laugh just now must have been hers."

"Judging from the exchange just now, that vampire is rational, and he is quite wary and angry at this woman."

"In other words... it was this woman who caused the vampire to lose control and kill people."

"why?"

The clues in my mind quickly connected, and the puzzle pieces were put back in place one by one.

Ivan's expression gradually became somewhat strange.

"Is this guy just trying to be a hero and save the day?"

He paused for a moment and corrected his wording.

"No, isn't it more like a beauty saving a hero?"

Chapter 22: There's something wrong with your supernatural abilities!

While Evan was still lost in thought, the silver-haired woman had already moved closer.

She tilted her head, brought her fair and high nose close to Evan's shoulder, and sniffed.

Its movements were as natural as a curious cat identifying scents.

"You took a magic potion again?"

Ivan instinctively took a half step back and scratched his head.

“If you’re referring to what Professor Price gave me, yes.”

Hill's golden vertical pupils widened slightly, and he leaned forward, his posture full of undisguised curiosity.

"How come you weren't poisoned? How come you didn't experience any side effects?"

In recent days, Hill has been secretly observing Evan.

She watched as this thin, poor student swallowed two kinds of magic potions every day and grew stronger at an incredible speed.

Muscles are growing, physical fitness is soaring, and reaction speed is getting faster every day.

But what about the side effects?

Mutation, loss of control, poisoning, vomiting blood, skin ulceration, organ failure.

These symptoms, which almost always occur after taking the potion, never happened to him.

Even she herself, when she was undergoing the Witcher Trials, had blood seeping from the pores of her skin simply because she drank an extra potion.

He felt as if he was soaked in a thin red film and almost died on the spot.

It took the master three days and three nights to pull her back from the brink of death.

This guy was taking several medications at the same time, yet he was full of energy and even had the leisure to carry sacks at the dock.

After thinking for a moment, Evan gave a vague but not entirely false answer.

"Perhaps it's a talent."

Hill hummed in agreement, his golden vertical pupils narrowing slightly as if he were processing the information.

"It is indeed possible. Although naturally occurring drug resistance is rare, it is not unheard of."

Taking advantage of her moment of contemplation, Evan seized the opportunity to ask her a question.

"Are you an official superhuman? Are you here to protect me?"

Hill nodded, then shook his head.

"I guess so. But saving you has nothing to do with the authorities; it's more about my personal curiosity about your talent."

Evan pointed in the direction where the vampire had disappeared.

"How did that vampire lose control just now? If he was sent by Professor Pulis to monitor me, there was no need for him to kill so many people."