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

"Um... First, elements are composed of indivisible and indestructible atoms."

He licked his lips, his eyes darting around.

"Secondly, atoms of the same element can have different masses and properties..."

“Wrong.” Mons’ voice was like a pair of scissors, cleanly cutting off his words.

The blond youth opened his mouth, stammered out half a sentence, and then fell silent.

Mons then selected a few more people.

The second person who stood up got stuck on the third one, and the third person even stumbled over the first one, saying "non-renewable" instead of "indivisible".

The old man's face grew increasingly grim, and a storm began to brew in his eyes behind his glasses.

"Not a single one can recite it completely?" His voice wasn't loud, but every word seemed to be squeezed out from between his teeth.

"Then everyone go and do the punishment copying. Copy each line twenty times and hand it in next class."

A suppressed sigh echoed through the classroom.

At that moment, in the corner of the last row, a thin, bony hand slowly rose up.

"Teacher, I can."

Mons's gaze swept over forty heads and landed on the thin student in the last row wearing a patched jacket.

He raised his gray eyebrows slightly, his gaze sweeping from Evan's frayed collar to the front of his jacket with a missing button, completing the examination in about two seconds.

"Tell me about it."

Ivan stood up. The chair slid back with a short, sharp screech.

He didn't look at the textbook or his notes.

The intense focus he maintained for four hours, from 3 a.m. to 7 a.m., had etched this information into his mind like nails.

"1: Elements are composed of indivisible and indestructible atoms."

"2: Atoms of the same element have completely identical mass and properties."

"3: Atoms of different elements have different masses and properties."

"4: Compounds are formed by the combination of different atoms in a simple integer ratio."

"5: Chemical reactions only rearrange atoms; they neither create nor destroy atoms."

He spoke at a moderate pace, enunciated clearly, and paused appropriately between each sentence.

Ivan didn't stop.

"It can explain the law of constant proportions because, within Dalton's framework, the proportion of different atoms in a compound is fixed, and no matter how the same compound is prepared, the mass ratio of its constituent elements remains unchanged."

"It can explain the law of multiples because the same two elements can form multiples of different compounds, and the mass of a certain element in these compounds is a simple integer multiple relationship."

"For example, nitrogen and oxygen can form NO, N₂O, and NO₂, where the mass ratio of oxygen is a simple integer multiple."

……

Chapter 6: Teacher, are there any other medicines?

After hearing Evan's answer, the classroom fell silent for a moment.

Several students couldn't help but glance at him a few more times, somewhat surprised.

Professor Mons' expression remained calm; he simply nodded, as if confirming a fact that should have been so.

"Okay, sit down."

Ivan sat back down.

The chair creaked, and the student in the front row with the side-parted hair glanced back at him again, but this time he didn't smile.

Mons turned around and wrote another line on the blackboard, the sound of chalk hitting the board crisp and clear.

He put down the chalk and faced the whole class.

"What is the order of the Mendeleev periodic table? Why do the properties of elements in the same main group change? Take the halogen group as an example."

The classroom fell silent once again.

The forty people seemed to have collectively developed a kind of selective deafness, their gazes shifting downwards, staring at textbooks, desks, their own fingernails, and anything that wasn't Professor Mons.

The old man took a deep breath, his chest brimming with the angry roar that was about to erupt.

Then that withered hand was raised again.

"I can."

Mons's gaze swept past the crowd and landed on the corner of the last row.

He paused for half a second, then nodded.

“Arkham, tell them.”

Ivan stood up for the second time.

"Sir, the periodic table is arranged in order of atomic weight, and those with similar properties are grouped into the same column, that is, group."

"From fluorine to iodine, the atomic weight increases, the atomic volume increases, the electronegativity decreases, and the reactivity decreases."

Fluorine is the most reactive, reacting violently with water and hydrogen; chlorine is next, and iodine is the mildest.

"At the same time, the acidity of its hydrides increases from HF to HI, and the solubility of silver salts decreases accordingly."

AgF is soluble, while AgCl, AgBr, and AgI are progressively less soluble, with the precipitate color gradually deepening.

Mons raised an eyebrow slightly.

A subtle hint of surprise appeared on that old face, which was etched with deep wrinkles from years of sternness.

"Oh?" He took off his glasses, wiped the lenses with the hem of his vest, and put them back on, as if to make sure he hadn't mistaken the person.

"It can also be linked across properties, from activity to acidity and then to solubility."

This shows that they truly understood it, and it wasn't just rote memorization.

He nodded, his tone a degree or two softer than before.

“Very good, Arkham.”

If the first question represents the duty of a student from a lower social class who wants to transcend their social class—that is, to do their homework and memorize what they are supposed to—then the answer to the second question has gone beyond that duty.

The ability to readily connect different knowledge points is not something that can be faked through rote memorization.

But the other students in the classroom did not show any admiration.

More often than not, it was mockery, contempt, a condescending, superior sneer.

The meaning behind those gazes was quite clear, almost directly translated into words: This idiot, after contracting syphilis, has nowhere to turn, no friends, no social life, and can only bury himself in books all alone.

Mons noticed those looks.

The old man snorted coldly, his gaze sweeping over several mocking faces behind his glasses, which he thought were well hidden, but he said nothing more.

At this university, some things are harder to change than chemical equations.

He turned to face the blackboard and picked up a new piece of chalk.

"Now we will begin today's lesson: Mercury compounds."

The chalk landed on the blackboard, and writing began.

The four classes in the morning passed by like a fully loaded freight train, rumbling and rolling by.

The Night Demon Potion was fully absorbed, and his constitution level reached 0.701.

[The health condition has improved further, and the patient's mental state has naturally recovered.]

【Spirit +0.2】

Ivan immediately understood.

"It seems that before reaching level 1, no additional upgrades are needed, as the spirit can recover along with the health status."

At noon, the bell rang for the last math class. Evan packed up his notebook, which was full of writing, and stuffed it into his canvas backpack along with his textbook. He fastened the buckle, slung it over his shoulder, and headed to the cafeteria.

He used to skip lunch.

Five cents for breakfast and tram fare is already the biggest expense of the day, so I'll skip lunch and wait until I get home at four in the afternoon to worry about it.

After all, the drug trial had already caused him to lose his appetite and he didn't have much desire to eat.

But not anymore.

The Night Demon Potion is being digested, the body is rebuilding, and the boiler needs fuel.

He could feel his stomach growling; it was no longer the habitual emptiness, but a real, urgent hunger.

The cafeteria is located on the first floor of a two-story red brick building at the back of the campus. Push open the door.

Inside was a long, narrow hall with a high ceiling and several cast-iron chandeliers hanging from it.

Along one side of the wall is the food serving counter, where cooks in white aprons stand behind the steam, scooping food into plates with large ladles.

The air was filled with the mixed aromas of boiled beans, toast, and butter.

Evan stood at the food counter for a long time, scanning the price list three times before finally gritting his teeth and spending eleven cents to order a lunch that was a luxury for him.

A piece of dark bread. A small cube of butter. A bowl of hot bean soup. A glass of milk. A tomato.

Eleven cents.

That's enough for him to eat for two days.

As he turned around with his tray, he noticed that the crowd around him parted automatically, like water meeting a stone.

The news of syphilis had spread throughout the entire school.

The scene that occurred in PE class four days ago has been circulated and processed by forty mouths, and has probably been embellished into dozens of horrifying versions.

Wherever he went, students stepped aside to make way, some even picking up their plates and changing positions, their actions exaggerated as if they were avoiding a plague patient.

A low, mocking laugh followed behind him, like the buzzing of flies circling around rotting flesh.

Evan was happy to have some peace and quiet.