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

Chapter 88 Father's essence and mother's blood, cannot be discarded! (3/5)

Feeling that the other person was dangling him in mid-air like a dead chicken with just one hand, the young man almost wet his pants.

What gang rules, what confidentiality agreements—

I'm about to die in this ditch, why should I care about anything else?

The young man immediately spoke up: "Nyo Clinic!"

"Nyo Clinic?"

Ivan raised an eyebrow.

He had heard of the name before; it wasn't far from here, just across the stone-paved street from the dock area.

The one with the white enamel sign with black lettering.

His father had injured his shoulder while working at the dock and went there for treatment.

I've heard that the medical skills there are quite good, and the prices are correspondingly high.

As for what happens next, we don't know.

"Who's at the Niyo Clinic?"

Ivan followed up with a sentence.

The young man quickly spoke up.

"Mrs. Cammy".

Ivan frowned. "Mrs. Cammy? What happened to Dr. Cammy?"

He remembered clearly that the attending physician at that clinic was a middle-aged man named Kemi, with a black beard, heavy eye bags, and wearing a pair of round glasses with gold rims.

The young man obediently replied, "Dr. Cammy died two years ago. For the past two years, Mrs. Cammy has been seeing patients."

He licked his chapped lower lip, a look of infatuation appearing in his eyes.

"Mrs. Cammy is very beautiful, and her clinic is doing better than ever."

Upon hearing this, Ivan released his grip and said, "Get lost!"

The young man, feeling as if he had been granted a pardon, was about to turn back—

"Oh, right."

Evan spoke again: "If you want revenge on me, you can come find me on Guding Street anytime."

He paused for a moment, then slowly grinned, revealing a set of perfectly white teeth in the shadows of the alley.

"Next time you come, it would be best to bring two people with more severe symptoms and higher infectivity, otherwise it's pointless."

Upon hearing this, the thief's legs went weak, and his corduroy pants, already soaked with sweat, were now swelled with liquid in even more areas, the heat mixed with the smell of urine rising into the cold air.

It involves both sweat and urine.

Then he scrambled and crawled, frantically dashing into the crowd at the end of the street.

Having settled this matter, Evan pressed his felt hat down over his head and slowly made his way out of the alley.

As he passed the skinny orange cat by the wall, he squatted down and touched the base of its relatively dry ears.

"I'll get you another bag of mice later."

The cat meowed once, lazily rubbed its head back against his knuckles, and then burrowed back behind the pile of overturned barrels.

Back on the familiar Guding Street.

The two sides still have those same blackened red brick row apartments.

The old man from the Apennines on the street corner was still selling his food, smoke billowed from the chimney of the blacksmith's shop diagonally opposite, and dockworkers coming and going sometimes laughed heartily, sometimes cursed loudly—

Everything felt incredibly familiar, filling me with a sense of security.

But this time, Ivan didn't dare to take a breath and instead walked quickly home.

"You've struck it rich, Arkham! That suit looks really impressive!"

Uncle Aobuli from the blacksmith shop across the street straightened up in front of the furnace, his loud voice making Evan's ears ring.

Ivan laughed and said, "I was lucky to have been a rich kid's lackey for a few days."

Hearing the conversation between the two, the neighbors around them also turned to look.

You can see a sense of envy and longing in the eyes of these people.

Everyone still remembers how he bossed around the Gus gang's underlings a few days ago.

Who wouldn't want to rise to prominence like Evan?

Good afternoon, Arkham!

"This outfit must cost at least $30! It's so cool!"

Everyone who walks towards him greets him with a smile.

This scene is a world apart from the sickly young man who was practically invisible just two weeks ago.

As he walked home down the stairs, Ivan immediately activated his demon-hunting vision the moment he opened the door.

The door frame, the floor, the table edge—there was nothing unfamiliar about them.

After confirming that no one had secretly come over in the past few days, Evan felt relieved.

The familiar smell of old wooden planks mixed with bedding in the apartment instantly relaxed his tense nerves.

He first took off his sharp suit, folded it neatly, and then walked into the bathroom shirtless.

Looking at the grayish-green rust on his chest through the mirror, Evan took a deep breath.

He dug his fingers directly into the gap and then pulled hard.

Tear!

A sound like leather being torn apart alive rang out.

A large piece of rust, still attached to the skin and flesh, and the nipple of the left breast, was forcibly torn off by Evan.

"Ouch!"

The intense pain caused him to break out in a sweat that streamed down his cheeks.

After tearing for more than ten seconds, the entire piece of rust was finally completely peeled off.

With the disappearance of a large chunk of muscle, the exposed wound even revealed the ribs below, as well as the outlines of the lungs and heart, making it look incredibly gruesome.

Despite all this, Ivan didn't bleed a single drop.

All the blood now appears as a thick, gelatinous substance, remaining at the edge of the wound, not a single drop flowing down.

Then he saw the semi-congealed flesh and blood begin to heal rapidly under Ivan's watchful gaze.

"Is this the true value of 292.5% blood quality?"

This was the first time Evan had so directly felt the value of the [Blood Quality] talent.

Bleeding doesn't cause bleeding, and not a single nutrient is wasted.

Now, his blood is more like a solid than a liquid.

After watching the wound gradually heal, Evan focused his attention on the piece of bronze rust.

You can see that this corrosion seems to occur at the cellular level; the muscle texture, pores, and skin layers on the torn piece are incredibly lifelike.

All the organizations seemed to turn into rust in an instant, without any change in their structure.

The whole thing doesn't look like diseased human tissue; it looks more like a bizarre work of art.

Upon seeing this thing, Ivan's first thought was—

"The father's sperm and the mother's blood are inseparable."

He then shoved the object into his mouth and bit down hard with his coppery teeth.

when!

A crisp metallic clang.

Evan was stunned; he couldn't bite it.

"Normally, the structure of rust shouldn't be as good as copper, so why can't it be chewed?"

Then he grinned and bit down again with his back molars.

I still can't bite it.

"Holy crap! Could it be that this thing inherited my current 6.9 physique?"

"My spear cannot pierce my shield?"

After several attempts, Evan had to admit that this piece of his own product was ridiculously hard.

Even in his coppery state, he didn't move even when his jaw ached from biting so hard.

"Let's hide it first."

"6

He wrapped the rusty piece in old cotton cloth and stuffed it into the most hidden place under the bed.

"After all, it's a supernatural condensate; it might come in handy someday."

After dealing with the rust, he looked down and saw that the large wound on his chest had been covered with a layer of dark red scab, indicating that it had entered the recovery period.

The tight, stitched feeling on my left shoulder has disappeared, and my shoulder has regained its flexibility.

"Then let's catch some mice to make up for it."

No one stayed in the house for a few days. After the previous batch of rats all died, a new batch came.

Ivan casually sat down on the old sofa, waved his hand and his secondary brain reappeared, then deftly plunged into the hole in the wall.

In less than ten minutes, the new family had become Evan's tonic.

The blood of fourteen rats, plague, rat-bite fever, rabies — all in one spoonful.

[Copper epidemic progress +0.14%.]

After a meal of rat blood, I could skip lunch.

Evan then took off his pants, folded them neatly by the pleats, and put them into the cleanest compartment of the wardrobe.

Finally, he looked at the wad of banknotes in his hand. He decided to keep them with him for now, deal with things in Kerry first, and then deposit them in the bank at a later time.

For the remaining two hours, he leaned back on the sofa, closed his eyes, and rested, waiting for his wounds to heal further.

By 3 p.m., the wound on his chest had mostly healed and was beginning to scab off. The intense itching made him want to scratch it every now and then.

In the meantime, he also took the opportunity to activate the second phase of the copper plague.

Side effects slightly increased: the area of ​​copper rust increased by 10%; the reactance decreased from -20% to -25%.

At the same time, the number of copper-plated areas increased from two to six.

According to the classification of the body by the copper plague, there are a total of twelve parts of the body.

Six locations mean that almost all the vital points can be covered.

After he had basically recovered, he pulled out the old cotton-padded jacket that he had worn for two winters from the depths of his wardrobe, and put on a thick gray woolen jacket over it.

In late November, the wind blowing from the Atlantic Ocean in Bolton was quite fierce.

He wasn't afraid of the cold; he just didn't want to attract attention.

Finally, he pulled the black felt hat over his head and went out the door.

After handing a bag of mice to the wild cat, he headed straight for the dock area.

The docks were still bustling during the day.

Several large, gray-painted cargo ships were docked at the main pier, billowing black smoke from their chimneys, which darkened the already gloomy sky above.

On the pier, dockworkers, some carrying bulging sacks and others pulling carts piled high with tin cans, made way for each other on the narrow wooden planks.

The steam crane creaked and groaned as wooden crates swayed back and forth in mid-air, each crate bearing the markings of Cuban sugar, Brazilian coffee beans, and Canadian whisky.

All sorts of shouts, yells, and the foreman's swearing came from all directions.

Ivan stood at the edge of the dock, looking at the bustling scene before him, and sighed inwardly.

Just a few nights ago, he was here doing hard labor, bag after bag of food, running around like the wind for a little money for food.

Now, I am ready to say goodbye to this place completely.

Walking briskly across the dock, Evan quickly found Bryce Transportation Company.

Uncle Parker is standing with his hands on his hips, directing the workers to unload the goods.

After not seeing him for a few days, it seemed that the old foreman with the bulbous nose hadn't gone out to fool around, which made Evan feel a little relieved.

"Uncle Parker."

Ivan walked over with a smile.

Parker turned his head, only half of his face was facing him, and his expression froze when he saw Ivan.

"Hey kid, you seem to have gotten taller!"

Evan laughed: "It's probably because of the soles of the shoes."

97

After casually changing the subject, he immediately got down to business.

"Uncle Parker, do you know where Carey lives?"

Parker's eyes flickered, and then he asked in a slightly wary tone.

"What are you going to do?"

Seeing Parker's current posture, Evan's heart skipped a beat; he sensed that something was amiss.

"I tried the drug with Carey before."

"I want to ask him how the drug trials are going, and if there are any other avenues."

Upon hearing this, Parker rebuked him with obvious displeasure.

"That ungrateful wretch!"

He gestured with his chin toward the distant canal.

"His home is a two-story detached house at No. 1-224, Haien Street."

After he finished cursing, he added another sentence in a low voice.

"Be careful, this guy's been acting strange lately."

As he spoke, he turned his face completely around.

Only then did Evan see clearly that Parker's face, which had been partially obscured by the light, was covered with a thick layer of gauze from his cheekbone to his jawline, the edges of which were soaked with some kind of yellowish-brown liquid.

"I went to visit him before—just to see how he's been doing lately."

He chewed on his pipe, mumbling indistinctly and awkwardly.

"And when he came back, he beat me up like a madman."

When Evan heard this, he almost lost his composure.

This isn't a greeting to Kaili; you're clearly eyeing his widow.

However, he naturally didn't say these words aloud.

Between words, his nostrils twitched unconsciously.

The heightened sense of smell lingered from the adverse effects of the shark potion, and the odor emanating from under the gauze made him frown.

It smelled like the stench of a dead person.

Evan said with a serious expression, "Uncle Parker, your wound needs to be treated."

"It has become infected and is now purulent."

Parker sighed helplessly, "I've tried it myself several times, going to the pharmacy three times, spending a total of four dollars, but it still doesn't get better."

At this point, he waved his hand irritably, then shouted loudly at the workers in the distance.

"Don't spill it! The people behind will slip and fall!"

His voice was full of energy, suggesting that the injury had not affected his health.

Ivan stood there watching Parker's departing figure without saying anything.

He knew that the infection in Parker's wound was definitely not an ordinary virus, and if this continued, he would surely die.

He wanted to lend a hand.

After all, Parker was indeed a good person to me.

"Not at this stage."

"Hopefully, once the Copper Plague is fully developed, it will unlock the ability to directly absorb viruses from other people's bodies."

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