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

Chapter 84 An Unexpected Discovery Through a Keen Sense of Smell

Chapter 84 An Unexpected Discovery Through a Keen Sense of Smell (9/10)

[This contains dangerous content; proceed with caution if you're eating.]

After a phone call ended, what was originally a trivial matter of less than four ounces was put on the scale and instantly turned into a weight that couldn't be contained even by a thousand pounds.

As night fell over Bolton, the entire upper class was simultaneously dragged out of bed.

The president of the Wise Man University was startled awake by the ringing bell and rushed to his study in his slippers.

Beneath the deep green dome of the city hall, rows of dim yellow windows lit up one after another.

The city police station's night shift sergeant, while fastening the brass buttons on his uniform, called for everyone to assemble downstairs.

At four in the morning, even the heavy iron gate of the National Guard base was filled with noise.

It's clear that many people are dissatisfied with the Theosophical Society.

Now that they have the chance, they all want to kick him while he's down!

Those self-important, always arrogant black gloves are unaware of this.

If someone really wanted to take action against them, all they needed was a small reason.

That night, Bolton was destined to be sleepless.

Meanwhile, in New Haven, Evan was living quite comfortably.

He was given a private room and a new set of clothes, and was even relieved of his night duty of standing guard in the corridor.

Jack, who had looked at him with slight disdain when he got on the bus the day before yesterday, now greeted him with "brother" and "sir" the moment he saw him.

Those blue eyes were filled with passionate admiration.

Karp escorted him all the way to the door and patted him on the shoulder.

"If you're tired, take a good rest."

The old bodyguard's tone carried undisguised approval.

"The bonus will be settled together with your salary after you return to Bolton."

I believe in you.

After the door closed, Evan finally had his own private space.

As a high-end hotel, the rooms have comfortable carpets on the floor.

The curtains directly in front are made of heavy, wine-red velvet.

The bedside lamp had been turned on beforehand, casting a dim glow.

He strode over and lay down on the double bed, stretching comfortably before glancing at the control panel.

You reversed the side effects of the Ironblood Potion.

Your memory has been improved. Your mental strength has been permanently increased by 0.03.

Your sleep efficiency will increase by 100% in the next 48 hours.

"Tsk."

Ivan pursed his lips: "The side effects are rather minor."

But the next second he suddenly remembered: "That's true."

"This is already a mature, mass-produced potion."

"Unlike the experimental subjects like Priscilla and Byron."

"It's normal that the side effects of a formula that has been optimized by countless generations are so low."

"Otherwise, if all the Witchers turned into senile old people, how could they be investigators?"

He continued scrolling down.

You reversed the side effects of the Gecko Potion.

Your blood quality will improve by 50% within the next 168 hours.

"Fifty percent."

He clicked his tongue: "That's quite a lot, but it's a pity it's temporary."

You reversed the side effects of the shark potion.

Your vision and sense of smell have been enhanced. Your constitution has been permanently increased by 0.05.

[Your sense of smell and taste will be enhanced by 200% in the next 48 hours.]

"The attribute bonuses weren't that significant."

He put the panel away: "But the temporary buffs left after these side effects reverse are still quite useful."

He had barely finished thinking those words when his nostrils twitched.

It feels like someone with a bad cold suddenly has a clear nose one morning.

The various smells that were already surrounding me suddenly rushed into my nasal cavity.

He turned over, buried his head in the pillow, and took a deep breath.

"————A mild cleaning agent."

He mentally analyzed each symptom: "There's also a very faint body odor, and a cheap perfume."

"—And, onions?"

With that in mind, he decided to explore his hidden detective talent.

"The housewife who cooks often is probably that cleaning lady."

He sat up in bed and strode into the bathroom, filled with curiosity.

A clean and tidy marble washbasin, a snow-white porcelain basin, and towels folded into squares stacked on a copper rack.

It looks very neat and high-end.

He leaned over and smelled the topmost bath towel; it smelled exactly like the pillow.

"Yes, the same person is in charge of cleaning."

Now that he had reached the bathroom door, he turned to look at the brass showerhead hanging on the wall.

"Yue!"

In an instant, he staggered back two steps, his face contorted with pain.

"It has a strange, indescribable smell; there are so many flavors that it's hard to tell them apart!"

He covered his mouth and nose tightly with his elbow, gagging as he spoke.

"A musty smell, a watery smell, and something else I can't quite describe—"

"Yue!"

He felt a violent urge to vomit and almost threw up his lavish dinner that evening.

"Oh shit!"

He leaned against the sink, catching his breath: "Who knows what this showerhead has been through? This hotel doesn't even bother to replace it with a new one."

After finally managing to suppress the churning in his stomach, he grabbed a handkerchief from the sink to wipe his mouth.

"Yue!"

The next second he flung the handkerchief far away.

"Why does this towel have a strange, fishy smell?"

"How many diseases does it take to leave this smell?"

He grabbed the sink, held his breath, and fled the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

His face flushed red, and he plopped back down on the edge of the bed, cursing under his breath.

"Damn it!"

"It's a pity that there weren't detailed testing techniques in this era."

"Otherwise, I could make a fortune just from this nose."

After all, ordinary people can't smell this kind of odor.

If he really dares to make such a big fuss, the only outcome will be that the hotel manager kicks him out and the newspapers label him a fraudster.

Back in bed, Evan grew angrier the more he thought about it: "I can't just let this go."

He stared at the milky-white glass-shaded lamp by the bedside, squinting his eyes.

"I'd like to see which two types of scoundrels are playing such dirty tricks."

"Who knows, we might even uncover some dirt on some wealthy businessman!"

The thought came to him, and he rolled out of bed and rushed back to the bathroom.

He grabbed the light gray bath towel draped over the brass towel rack and brought it to his nose.

"vomit!"

He immediately stretched his hand far away: "The bath towel also smells fishy."

He tossed the bath towel back onto the towel rack with an almost scholarly air.

"Not the eldest sister—" he muttered to himself.

"With such a strong smell, how can they attract wealthy clients?"

"How beautiful must she be?"

"----etc."

He had a flash of inspiration.

"This kind of girl seems like a good fit for me?"

"Copper plague definitely likes this beautiful biochemical matrix."

"Copper plague solves the biohazard, I solve the mother virus!"

Lost in thought, his gaze fell on the floor.

Even from the cracks in those marble tiles, there was a faint fishy smell.

He bent over, pressed his nose against the tile surface, and took a deep breath.

The strong, fishy smell, along with the faint sour odor left by the mop, hit me right in the head.

"Ugh! Holy crap!"

He looked up, tears welling in his eyes from the nausea: "I'll never forget this smell for the rest of my life."

Ivan stared at the floor tiles, wiping away tears as he pondered.

"No, the flavors are too mixed; I can't taste the layers."

After a two-second silence, he seemed to have made up his mind.

"—I've even drunk raw rat blood."

"By all accounts, he's of the same generation as Lao Ba."

Upon reading this, he stuck his tongue out.

The sense of smell can only detect odors.

As for what this stuff tastes like and what its ingredients are, you'll have to rely on your sense of taste to find out.

Then he pressed his tongue against the tile and licked it forcefully. His taste buds, which had been repeatedly tempered by various drugs, began to analyze rapidly.

He smacked his lips: "Floor cleaner—it smells like turpentine."

"It's also a little sweet."

"Hiss, it seems there's lead in it."

"etc!"

He paused on the tip of his tongue.

"What is this?"

Just as he was carefully examining the product, a new notification popped up on the panel in front of him.

[You have ingested a trace amount of Deepdiver fluid. Effect lasts: 3 minutes.]

[Effect: Swimming speed increases by 5% while the drug's effects last.]

Does this reverse the side effects?

"Deep-diver bodily fluids?!"

Upon seeing this news, he jumped up from the ground as if he had discovered a new continent.

Holy crap!

Ivan looked at the ground in surprise: "No wonder this stuff smells so fishy."

"I thought it was some kind of bio-matrix."

"Twist!"

You reversed the side effects of the trace Deep Diver fluid.

Your self-awareness has slightly improved. Your mental strength has permanently increased by 0.001.

Looking at the effect displayed on the reversed panel, Ivan's face showed a thoughtful expression.

"I heard about Deep Divers when I was on Earth."

"A group of Naga-like murlocs, followers of Cthulhu."

"They're holed up in the Innsmouth area, that's all I know."

He glanced down at the floor he had just licked.

"Such a large area of fishy stench—"

"There must be quite a few people here. To keep their skin moist, they actively secrete this fluid?"

"Or is it that drying out a bit of food can cause it to secrete more bodily fluids?"

"Damn it! What am I thinking?"

He quickly brought his thoughts back from wandering wildly because the brake pads had been lost.

"Was the previous tenant a Deepdiver?"

He frowned: "What are a bunch of fish-men from the sea doing on land?"

He silently shook his head, deciding to think of something practical.

"But this Deep One fluid is really something good."

"Just licking the floor is enough to work, so if you gave me a whole cup of this—"

He grinned.

"Then I'll just go into the water and take off immediately."

Thinking of this, he licked the floor twice more, but unfortunately, it was too diluted in other places and could no longer be effective.

With a regretful expression, he walked back to the bedside and reached out to turn off the overhead light.

He then lay down on the bed and quickly fell asleep.

The next morning at eight o'clock.

With 100% sleep efficiency boosted, Evan slept soundly through the night and crawled out of bed feeling refreshed.

Then I immediately realized something was wrong; my left side felt hard and numb.

He propped himself up, and the blanket slipped down from his collarbone, revealing a palm-sized piece of rust in the center of his left chest.

The thing was a grayish-green color, weathered over many years on the church steeple, with jagged edges, like a scab emerging from under the skin.

There was no visible seam where the rust met the flesh; capillaries were faintly visible at the edges, but were pressed back by the hard metallic shell.

He pressed it with his finger; it felt cold to the touch, and he had no feeling in his chest area.

Then he tapped his chest muscles with his knuckles, producing a series of dull sounds.

"——Oh right, it's Monday today."

He recalled the side effects of the copper plague.

He propped himself up on the edge of the bed and stretched a bit.

The pectoral muscle covered in rust has completely lost its vitality, and the muscles from the left shoulder to the chest have also been affected.

When I raised my hand, I felt a dull pulling sensation in my shoulder blade, as if it had been sewn up with a needle.

"Anyway, I'm going home today."

"I'll do it when I get home."

After all, it's not easy to take this thing back now that it's been confiscated.

"About the left arm, just say it was beaten up by Thomson's gang yesterday."

"These guys are really wicked," Evan muttered seriously.

After changing his clothes and opening the door, he sensed something was off in the air as soon as he stepped into the hallway.

Several waitresses carrying silver trays huddled together at the elevator entrance, whispering amongst themselves.

At the entrance to the second-floor restaurant, two middle-aged gentlemen wearing silver-rimmed glasses exchanged newspapers in hushed tones.

Even the receptionist at the front desk, who wore white gloves, would occasionally exchange meaningful glances with passing guests.

"I heard the killer hasn't been caught yet?"

"—All those who died were from prominent families."

"That Alcott is nothing but a beast in human skin."

"Oh, poor girls."

Without making a sound, Evan lowered the brim of his felt hat by an inch and walked straight into the restaurant down the corridor.

He quietly and alone finished a rather substantial breakfast.

Slightly browned bacon, five soft-boiled eggs, a large plate of buttered toast, and a cup of black coffee with three sugar cubes.

After he finished wiping his mouth, Karp was already waiting for him at the restaurant entrance: "Is there anything else you need to do?"

The old bodyguard with the square face spoke in a noticeably different tone today than he did yesterday.

It was filled with a sense of recognition and concern for one's own people.

He sighed.

"With this incident, the salon that was originally scheduled for this morning and the tea gathering that was scheduled for this afternoon have all been cancelled."

"We're heading back to Bolton ahead of schedule."

Ivan wiped his mouth with a napkin and asked, "When are we leaving?"

Karp raised his wrist and glanced at the old pocket watch.

"Ten o'clock, no later than that time."

After thinking for a moment, Ivan said, "Then I'll go to the museum."

"I still have a book I haven't read from the day before yesterday. I'll be back within an hour."

Garp nodded.

"This time it's on time."

He tapped Evan's chest lightly with his knuckles.

"Otherwise, you'll have to buy your own ticket back."

Without wasting any time, Evan ran out of the hotel's back door and arrived at the Armitage Museum in ten minutes.

The brass bell on the lintel rang once.