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

It's an extraordinary characteristic!!!

Chapter 28: Experimental Drugs That Can Cure Syphilis

Ivan calmly put away the panel and gave the nun a grateful smile.

"Thank you, Sister. May God bless you."

The middle-aged nun nodded lovingly, her gaze gentle and kind.

Ivan turned and left the stall, his mind racing.

He had a basic understanding of what Hill said: that man is the foundation of the extraordinary.

Looking at the compassionate nun, at the sallow faces of those queuing for medicine, and at the unknown symbol engraved on the bottom of the bottle, Evan was certain of one thing.

This hides an unspeakable conspiracy.

How could such a large number of ordinary people be given drugs containing supernatural properties?

Or is it the kind of thing that gradually makes people lose their sense of pain and slowly turns their bodies bronze?

What are they experimenting with?

What do they want to turn these poor people into?

Evan sighed inwardly, then his gaze returned to the black medicine bottle in his hand.

"But it must be said that the dosage of products from the church's workshops is really strong."

"This pain relief effect is much stronger than aspirin."

After consuming the copper pill, not only did the abdominal cramps caused by the demon-hunting trait subside significantly, but the dull pain from the two bruises on his back was also greatly reduced.

It felt like an invisible shackle had been removed from my body, and I could breathe easily.

“For ordinary people, eating this stuff is like committing slow suicide, but I have a control panel that allows me to monitor my physical condition in real time.”

"Eating some in moderation is fine and can even improve your pain tolerance."

"Come back more often to get some freebies."

Ryan, who was next to her, also took the medicine.

His reaction was much stronger than Ivan's.

Less than a minute after swallowing the pill, he felt as if he had been pulled out of the water, gasping for breath.

An unnatural flush appeared on her sallow face.

"God Father, I feel so much better now!"

His voice trembled with excitement.

For someone who is already struggling on the brink of death, even temporary relief from pain feels like a miracle.

The nun looked at him with a smile, her tone gentle yet firm.

"Your condition cannot be cured by medication alone."

“If you have time, you can visit our church on East Lexington Street.”

"We have many medical options that can help you."

Finally seeing hope, Ryan burst into tears, his knees buckled and he almost knelt down, expressing his gratitude with fervor and fervor.

He rambled on, thanking God, the nuns, and his mother all at once.

Ivan stood to the side without saying a word.

With current medical technology, there is no medicine that can cure Ryan's illness.

As for surgery? In this era before penicillin was invented, and when stopping bleeding relied entirely on compression and hot irons.

The survival rate for liver and gallbladder surgery is only about 30%, and the price is so high that ordinary people can't even dream of it.

All Ryan could grasp was this bottle of copper pills.

This bottle of copper pills will make his death more comfortable.

The two left the nun's stall and stood at the top of the stairs.

"Arkham, how are you feeling?" Ryan's spirits had clearly improved, and his voice had regained some strength.

Ivan smiled and said, "It does hurt less now."

Where do you plan to go next?

Ivan sighed. "Keep looking for drug testing jobs. What about you?"

Ryan's eyes dimmed for a moment, but quickly brightened again.

"I can't do it anymore. I'm planning to find some light handicrafts, like sewing buttons or making cardboard boxes."

He gripped the small black medicine bottle tightly in his hand, a fragile yet stubborn fire burning in his eyes.

"With the church's help, I think I will be able to get through this difficult time."

He lowered his head, his voice becoming very soft, as if he were talking to himself.

"I'm planning to earn some money to buy Lisa a birthday present."

"Then I'll buy my mother a new pair of glasses. Her old pair has a crack, and she's just using tape to keep them together."

Ivan hummed in agreement.

"Good luck, Ryan."

The two separated at the top of the stairs.

Ryan walked out, his steps lighter than when he came, his back thin and frail, and he quickly disappeared into the crowded throng.

Ivan turned and walked into the staircase, going upstairs.

The stairwell on the third floor was filled with all sorts of old chairs and benches, where all kinds of people sat waiting.

There were homeless people dressed in rags, huddled in a corner dozing off, their bodies reeking of alcohol and the sour smell of not having bathed for a long time.

There were students like Ivan, nervously clutching their appointment slips.

Some dockworkers rolled up their sleeves, revealing their thick forearms, waiting to sell their blood for a few coins.

Not many of them come to see a doctor.

Most of them came to sell their blood.

Ivan walked to the main entrance on the third floor and pushed the door open to go inside.

The hall was packed with people.

The renovation was far from good; large patches of paint had peeled off the walls, revealing the gray bricks underneath.

Dark green mold was crawling in the corner of the wall, and there was a water stain on the ceiling that looked like a distorted human face.

The ground was covered with scratches and stains, and the rubber tubing used for drawing blood was blackened and hardened.

Some were hung on iron hooks on the wall, while others were simply tossed onto the workbench.

It's more like a blood-drawing factory than a clinic.

Ivan walked to the front desk and said to the nurse, "Nurse, I made an appointment with Dr. Yuri last week. Are there any trials available?"

The nurse at the front desk was in her early thirties, with a face full of freckles and a muscular build like a dockworker; her arms were thicker than Evan's thighs.

Without looking up, she flipped through the greasy register in front of her, her finger tracing the names down the list.

"Fourth floor, room number two."

Ivan went up the stairs to the fourth floor.

It was much quieter here than on the third floor, and the smell of disinfectant in the air was stronger.

The walls of the corridor were painted white, and although they had turned yellow, at least there were no mold spots.

The floor is made of wood and is fairly clean.

The lobby directly in front faces three offices, with a corridor extending to each side, and a total of six wards with twenty-four beds.

Ivan knocked on the door of room number two and went inside.

Then he paused for a moment.

There are already four people in the room.

Two men and two women, aged between twenty and thirty.

You can roughly tell their identities from their clothing: the two men are low-level workers, and their clothes still have factory oil stains and a fishy smell.

The two women were heavily made up and had very low necklines; they were clearly in the sex trade.

One of the men, Evan knew.

Kerry.

The foreman from Bryce Transport Company.

Kaili looked much more haggard after just a few days.

His face was deathly pale, his eyes were bloodshot, and his lips were dry and cracked.

But his attire was the most presentable among them:

He wore a grey jacket that was about 70% new, a pair of fairly crisp dress pants, and a brand-new baseball cap.

The brim of the hat was pulled low, as if to cover something.

Evan noticed a few red spots on his neck and cheeks, the color and distribution of which he recognized all too well.

When Carey saw Ivan walk in, he froze for a moment, then instinctively lowered his head, the brim of his baseball cap obscuring most of his face.

That kind of embarrassment couldn't be hidden.

A supervisor who once spat at Ivan now sits in the same drug trial ward as him, waiting to exchange his body for a few dollars.

Ivan didn't look at him much, turning his gaze to the person behind the desk.

A middle-aged man wearing a white coat, gold-rimmed glasses, and a white mask had his hair neatly combed and his nails trimmed.