novellhall Chapter 35: Even the extraordinary cannot do without a decent job.
Chapter 35: Even the extraordinary cannot do without a decent job.
Hill looked at Evan's anxious expression and was reminded of himself back then.
He then smiled and nodded: "After you've fully digested it, you can control your demon-hunting state at will. The switch is all in your head."
Evan pointed to the top of his head.
"Won't it get sharper and sharper?"
Hill's expression shifted slightly, and the corner of his mouth twitched.
"You actually care about these things?"
She stepped forward, leaned closer to examine Evan's face closely, her blue eyes narrowing as if she were inspecting a piece of exquisite porcelain.
"No hallucinations? No amnesia? No hematuria? No blindness? No shortness of breath?"
These questions were increasingly horrifying, yet she asked them fluently.
As the beautiful young woman scrutinized him so closely, Ivan's ears burned slightly, and he instinctively took a half-step back.
"Isn't this just a supernatural trait? Why are you making it sound like poison?"
Hill was silent for a few seconds, then sighed.
"You're a monster. To ordinary people, the toxicity of Witcher's Potions is dozens, even hundreds of times greater than that of normal poisons."
She straightened up and patted Evan on the shoulder.
"We don't need to worry about the mutations."
"After the transformation is complete, all extraordinary characteristics can be put away."
"The fact that your head has become pointed indicates that your body has good flexibility. It is a localized variation that occurs during memory fusion and is generally not permanent."
Ivan let out a sigh of relief, only then remembering the question he should ask.
"No, ma'am, how did you get in?"
Hill raised his chin smugly.
"Your dilapidated house is drafty from all sides, but I have a hundred ways to get in."
Evan glanced at the wooden window in the bathroom, which was so thick that the water pipes would freeze and crack in winter, and silently swallowed his words.
There is absolutely no room for rebuttal.
Hill leaned against the doorframe, switching his tone back to business.
"At your digestion rate, I estimate it will be completed in another five or six days."
"Your changes will be very noticeable in the next few days."
"The internal organs will be remodeled, the body will undergo a second development, and it can grow even taller."
"So try to meet with people you know as much as possible every day."
"Otherwise, if we meet again after a few days, the change will seem abrupt and easily arouse suspicion."
Ivan's eyes lit up when he heard this.
Grow taller.
These two words held a fatal attraction for an 18-year-old, 177cm tall young man that went beyond mere extraordinary qualities.
"Okay," he readily agreed.
Then he thought of something else that was even more important.
"By the way, Master, how can I contact you if I need anything?"
Hill pulled a business card from the inside pocket of his jacket and handed it over casually.
"This is the identity I present to the public."
Evan took the business card, his fingertips holding the off-white cardboard.
The business card is of good quality, with a small library logo printed in the upper right corner.
Below is a line of elegant cursive script:
Bolton Public Library Administrator: Hill von Reinhardt Adolf
Ivan twitched the corner of his mouth halfway through reading.
"Oh, so you're from the Feng family! Greetings to the young lady."
He made a half-bow gesture with great seriousness.
Hill waved his hand awkwardly after hearing this.
"Okay, okay. This style isn't fashionable anymore."
"Aristocratic status is worthless in the United States these days."
She pulled her hat brim down to hide her momentary unease.
"I'm relieved to see that you're doing well."
After saying that, she turned and walked out of the washroom.
Evan thought she would go out the door, but instead she walked quickly to the bedroom window and opened the window frame.
She flipped up as nimbly as a cat and disappeared into the morning light outside the window.
They didn't even say goodbye.
Evan walked to the window and peered down.
Only a milk cart was passing by on the street downstairs, clanging and jingling, and she was nowhere to be seen.
"Looks like we really need to seal the windows from now on."
He made up his mind.
The abdominal cramps struck again right on time. He took out the bottle of copper pills from his jacket pocket, poured out a pill, and put it in his mouth.
[You have taken the test copper pill. Effect lasts: 10 hours.]
[Effects: Powerful analgesia, permanently reduces pain perception; permanently improves blood quality by 0.1%.]
[Copper epidemic: 0.1% → 0.11%]
You reversed the side effects of the test copper pill.
Your liver damage has been alleviated, from 40% to 39%.
Your kidney function has improved, and your physical condition has permanently increased by 0.001.
Your bone strength has increased, and your constitution has been permanently increased by 0.002.
……
After breakfast, Evan went out, boarded the clanging tram, and headed to school.
The school is still the same school.
It's just that one less person who bullied him is gone.
LeBon's parents did not wait for him at the school gate.
It seems that McCrae's explanation of "it was a misunderstanding" worked.
Or perhaps, after losing his son, the respectable importer had no energy left to dwell on the seemingly nonsensical notion of a "supernatural curse."
November 12th, Monday morning, first period chemistry class.
With the highly anticipated inter-school rugby tournament on the 19th drawing ever closer, the students are getting increasingly excited.
The voices in the corridor discussing tactics and betting grew louder every day, and even the most diligent pre-med students began secretly passing around the game schedule.
But Professor Mons on the podium remained as stern and rigid as ever, as if the classroom were an isolated island cut off from the world.
"Quiet."
His voice wasn't loud, but the sound of chalk hitting the podium drowned out all the whispers in the room.
"Who can explain why Dalton's atomic theory was initially questioned?"
"And how did Berzelius resolve this controversy through experiments?"
He paused for a moment, then tapped the blackboard twice with the chalk in his hand.
"At the same time, please calculate how many grams of water can be produced when 32 grams of oxygen reacts with sufficient hydrogen. Please come up to the stage and write out the complete calculation process."
The familiar silence returned to the classroom.
Several students were engrossed in reviewing their books, trying to confirm their memories at the last minute.
Just before those mouths were about to open, Ivan stood up first.
"professor."
His voice was steady and clear.
"The core controversy of Dalton's atomic theory lies in the relative standard of atomic weight."
"He initially identified hydrogen as one, but could not explain the proportions of elements in complex compounds, especially the presence of multiple atoms in complex oxides."
Berzelius determined the composition of about two thousand compounds through a large number of precise chemical analysis experiments, re-established the atomic weight standard of sixteen for oxygen, and unified the reference system for relative atomic weights.
"At the same time, he introduced the Latin abbreviation system for element symbols, which laid the data foundation for Mendeleev's periodic table later."
Professor Mons nodded in satisfaction.
"Very skilled. Go up on stage to calculate."
He turned around and called out three more names.
"Morales, Habini, Bruno. Come on stage together."
The four people walked up to the blackboard one after another.
Ivan picked up the chalk.
The chalk tip made a crisp, rhythmic tapping sound on the blackboard.
His handwriting was neat and powerful, with sharp strokes. The chemical equations were arranged line by line, with every number and arrow precisely placed.
Balance chemical equations.
Substitute the molar mass into the formula for calculation.
The result was: 36 grams of water.
From start to finish, it took less than two minutes.
Standing on the podium, Evan was no longer the thin, sickly man he used to be.
The dramatic changes of the past few days have solidified his belief that he needs to show his talent, win a letter of recommendation from his professor, and gain the favor of his classmates.
His personal experiences over the past few days made him realize one thing deeply.
In this world, the extraordinary and industry have long been intertwined.
Studies must not be neglected.
Without money and knowledge, you can't even become a superhuman.
He will not become complacent and arrogant because he has gained extraordinary power, nor will he think that he has become some kind of superman who can use these powers to get everything he wants.
Even extraordinary individuals are still human at heart.
Even the most powerful superhumans cannot survive long outside the social networks of humanity.
This was the taste he had slowly savored from each encounter with Pris, Hill, the nun, and Yuri over the past few days.
The stern and rigid Professor Mons looked at Evan's dignified handwriting and precise calculations on the blackboard and let out a satisfied "hmm".
Then he turned to look at the other three people.
The letters were written awkwardly, and the chemical formulas were written, erased, and written again.
One of them even wrote the atomic weight of oxygen as seventeen. He realized halfway through the calculation that the answer didn't match and turned red in the face.
The three young men were all dressed very appropriately.
A starched shirt, exquisite cufflinks, and a tailor-made waistcoat.
Each piece was expensive and fit perfectly.
But a pity.
Nice clothes don't give you a smart brain.
Furthermore, they cannot pass on their knowledge.