The Frenzied Savior - Chapter 32

Even though he knew exactly how grueling it was to develop a brand-new antidote, the elderly doctor, who now understood the chilling truth behind these bizarre suicides, did not utter a word to interrupt Fu Qingya. From the bottom of his heart, he hoped the boy would succeed.

This antidote wasn’t just a matter of science, it was the only hope for Li Xiaowen, who was still fighting the toxins in her system, and for countless citizens of the Xia Kingdom who might fall prey to such malice in the future.

As a physician with a steadfast conscience, the old doctor dreaded nothing more than witnessing human suffering and the finality of death. He refused to stand by and watch the heartbreaking scene of elderly parents burying their children repeat itself.

And so, he watched Fu Qingya in silence. When the hospital director began to question the boy’s capabilities, the old doctor spoke up to vouch for him without hesitation.

After all, one must act on a righteous impulse at least once in life to make the journey worthwhile.

As he watched Fu Qingya enter the pharmaceutical research lab, his face looking exceptionally young, the old doctor felt the lingering trace of regret from his earlier guarantee vanish. His anxiety was replaced by a strange calm.

His own children were grown and settled, capable of taking care of themselves. What did it matter if he took a risk? A man must, above all else, be able to face his own conscience.

The old doctor skillfully steadied his racing heart. He glanced at Luo Mingyuan, who was standing guard at the lab entrance with his team after reporting to his superiors. Unable to contain his curiosity, the doctor finally struck up a conversation.

“Who exactly is this young student? Why would you, Comrade Luo, stake your entire career as a guarantee just to let him use the hospital’s research facilities?”

The doctor paused, his gaze lingering with a complex expression on the security detail and special forces units stationed behind Luo Mingyuan.

“You mentioned you’d request some personnel when you reported to the higher-ups, but you actually managed to bring in people of this caliber. It seems the authorities value this young man immensely, Comrade Luo.”

“He clearly holds a position of great significance.”

Without waiting for Luo Mingyuan to reply, the old doctor provided his own answer. Satisfied, he turned back to watch Fu Qingya through the monitor, his eyes bright with a renewed sense of anticipation.

If Fu Qingya was more than just an ordinary high school senior, if he was a talent deemed essential by the state, then what he was attempting right now was truly possible.

Li Xiaowen, who remained unconscious but wept in her sleep as if trapped in an endless nightmare, finally had a chance at salvation.

The old doctor waited anxiously in the observation room, his eyes fixed on the screen showing Fu Qingya’s busy silhouette. The more he watched, the more his confidence grew.

Fu Qingya’s research process was a visual feast, resembling a series of intricate magic tricks where every movement was precise enough to elicit a gasp of wonder.

With a sharp silver needle, he extracted several samples of blood in an instant. With a practiced flick, the blood was settled into the instruments. A specialized nine-clawed “spider” apparatus hovered over the samples, continuously churning out rows of analytical reports.

With a series of crisp clicks, Fu Qingya assembled the rest of the necessary equipment, cleaning, preheating, and calibrating each piece. His movements were as fluid as running water, so seamless that even the most demanding perfectionist could find no fault.

Analyzing the toxin, formulating the antidote, testing the results.

Even with the help of mechanical assistants and an AI to process the data, it still took a considerable amount of time to fully deconstruct the poison.

It was a specialized toxin developed by Jay Hardy, a vanguard soldier from the A48 Galaxy. It functioned by hijacking a carbon-based organism’s physiological systems to induce a state of profound clinical depression. It then amplified those emotions, flooding the brain with depressive factors until the mind lost control of the body, ultimately driving the victim to take their own life.

For a human, the sensation was akin to being haunted or experiencing sleep paralysis, the terrifying reality of being fully conscious while watching oneself sink into death, or worse, being forced to harm oneself or others.

It was an uncontrollable, absolute despair.

Even if someone survived the initial poisoning, they would be left with permanent psychological scars, often leading to further self-harm or complete emotional collapse. This poison was a masterpiece of Jay Hardy’s cruelty, designed with a deep, twisted understanding of human nature that few could resist.

Fu Qingya’s brow furrowed. The damage this toxin inflicted on both body and mind was severe. He had to finalize the antidote immediately, for Li Xiaowen, an ordinary girl from a happy home, could not withstand the long-term erosion of such venom.

The sheer volume of negative emotions could shatter anyone who hadn’t endured the hardships of the apocalypse, and Fu Qingya refused to gamble with her life.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Fu Qingya remained locked inside the lab. It had been eighteen hours since Li Xiaowen’s suicide attempt was discovered.

From the moment he kicked down the dormitory bathroom door to the emergency first aid, the hospital transport, and the hunt for the culprit, Fu Qingya had not rested for a single minute. He hadn’t even stopped to eat.

Watching the dinner at the lab door grow cold, be reheated, and grow cold again in a seemingly endless cycle, Luo Mingyuan’s expression gradually darkened.

After persuading the exhausted old doctor to go and rest, Luo Mingyuan donned a sterile protective suit, changed his shoes, and stepped into the research lab.

“How long do you plan on staying in here?”

The tall man stood a short distance behind Fu Qingya, his gaze deep and unreadable. Hidden beneath his gear, his face was tense with concern.

Fu Qingya said nothing. His fingers remained steady as he handled the pipettes and instruments, his eyes never blinking as they remained fixed on a peculiar green liquid.

Suddenly, a muffled “thump” echoed through the room.

The test tube in Fu Qingya’s hand suffered a sudden rejection reaction, shattering into pieces in an instant. After clearing the debris and sanitizing the workbench, Fu Qingya finally turned around.

“Is there something you need?”

He gave Luo Mingyuan only a cursory glance before attempting to step past him to gather new materials for the next attempt. He had noticed a slight deviation in the data and needed to correct it in the next batch.

Urgent to test his latest theory, Fu Qingya began recording notes on a slip of paper while reaching for fresh supplies.

“Stop,” Luo Mingyuan said, blocking his path. “I won’t have another person collapsing here before we’ve even saved the first one.”

He gripped Fu Qingya’s arm, ignoring the boy’s attempt to pull away.

“You’ve been in a state of high mental concentration for nearly twenty hours without a single break. If I remember correctly, you aren’t exactly in peak physical condition. You suffer from severe narcolepsy, forcing yourself to stay awake for this long could cause your bodily functions to spiral, triggering multiple complications.”

“If you collapse today, the deadline for this antidote will be pushed back indefinitely.”

“Aside from you, no one understands this thing, and no one else can claim they can cure it.”

Regardless of Fu Qingya’s resistance, Luo Mingyuan held his arm firmly.

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