I'm a Serious Student; I Only Eat Nine Kinds of Potions Every Day

The stern, rigid Professor Mons looked at Evan's neat handwriting and precise calculations on the blackboard and gave a satisfied hum.

Then he turned to look at the other three.

Their letters were awkwardly written, and they kept writing and erasing chemical formulas.

One of them had even remembered oxygen's atomic weight as seventeen. When he realized halfway through that his answer did not match, his face turned red with frustration.

All three young men were dressed impeccably.

Starched shirts, exquisite cufflinks, tailored suit vests.

Every piece was expensive and well-fitted.

But unfortunately.

Nice clothes would not give someone a clever brain.

Nor could they pass down knowledge.

Cooperation and Enemies

The bell signaling the end of chemistry class rang. While packing up his lecture notes, Professor Mons stopped Evan, who was about to leave the classroom.

"Come here, Arkham."

The old man examined him over the top of his glasses. The initial scrutiny and suspicion were gone from his gaze, replaced by rare approval.

"You're in good shape, Mr. Arkham."

Evan showed a proper smile, revealing neat white teeth.

"Your recognition has given me confidence and a direction to work toward, Professor."

The old man nodded slightly and placed the chalk back into the wooden box on the lectern with a faint click.

"Take care of your health. Don't associate with those people who do not take their studies seriously."

He paused, his gaze falling directly on Evan's face through the lower half of his reading glasses.

"For a student like you, studying is your only way out."

Evan lowered his head, his tone sincere.

"Thank you for your guidance, Professor."

After that came German, mathematics, and biology.

After four classes, Evan had performed with confidence and composure.

Compared to the insecure student who had once huddled in the corner of the last row and only stood when called upon, he seemed like a completely different person.

The other students in the classroom began whispering among themselves.

How had this guy changed so much?

While everyone was discussing him, Evan casually rolled up his sleeves when he went to the board to solve a math problem.

At that moment, several pairs of eyes below narrowed at once.

Evan's forearms, once covered in copper-red rashes, were now smooth as ever.

His skin was clean and firm, and the lines of muscle in his forearms stood out clearly beneath the sunlight. There was not a trace left of what had once made the entire class mock him.

"This guy's French pox... was cured?"

Near the window in the second row, a young man with neatly parted hair narrowed his eyes slightly.

Morales.

One of the few middle-class students in the class who could still quietly focus on studying.

His father was a somewhat renowned physician in Bolton City. His family was well-off, and under his father's arrangements, he would also become a doctor in the future.

Morales had been watching Evan closely lately.

It was not out of sympathy. Rather, he had heard from his father that a new drug called Magic Bullet had recently begun appearing in hospitals, specifically for treating Syphilis.

The cost of a complete course of treatment was enough to cover half a year's rent for his father's clinic.

So when he learned that the poor student in his class also had Syphilis, he had quietly begun observing him.

What he observed shocked him.

He answered Professor Mons's questions calmly and without hesitation.

He had single-handedly fought back against the bullying from Lebon, Thompson, and their Brotherhood friends, beating four burly men until they fled in panic.

In just one week, he had gone from muddleheaded, thin, and haggard to a sharp-eyed, healthy young man.

And now, even his Syphilis had been cured.

"Could it be..."

Morales's pen paused over his scratch paper, and the ink spread into a small black blot.

"This guy really became that gangster's plaything?"

He had heard some rumors from the lower classes.

Those gang bosses would spare neither men nor women for excitement.

There were even shameless young people who would willingly sell their asses for money.

"Could Lebon's death really have something to do with him?"

"Otherwise, where did he get the money for Magic Bullet?"

Morales's heart skipped a beat.

He had learned of Lebon's death the very next day.

Both families lived on Federal Avenue in the Back Bay District and were neighbors in the same community.

On the night of the incident, his father had even gone over as a private physician to help handle matters.

When his father returned, he said the death had been gruesome, and it had happened without warning.

"Keep my distance."

Morales came to that conclusion inwardly.

"Smart bad kids like him are the most dangerous."

Biology class ended that morning.

As usual, Professor Pulis packed away his lecture notes, spoke with none of the students, and quietly left the classroom.

Evan packed his bag in advance and followed him.

"Professor, may I ask you a few questions?"

Pulis slowed down and turned his head slightly to glance at him.

His pale blue eyes swept over Evan from behind his lenses, without the slightest emotional fluctuation.

"Talk while we walk."

The two headed toward the cafeteria side by side.

When the students in the corridor saw Pulis, they automatically moved two steps away. No one dared approach to greet him.

Evan lowered his voice.

"Professor, what happened on Friday night wasn't intentional."

Pulis's pace did not change, and his gaze remained fixed ahead.

"I was cursed. Somehow, I ended up provoking the Gus Gang."

"The tram was delayed. Bird droppings happened to land on me. I tripped while walking on level ground. I couldn't control my temper, and in the end, I even drove a tenant out by force."

"It was only afterward that night that I realized it wasn't ordinary bad luck."

Pulis hummed, with no emotion detectable in his tone.

"So?"

Evan continued, making his tone even more earnest.

"I took all the medicine you gave me on time. I feel like my vision and perception at night are incredibly good, even clearer than during the day."

He paused, then changed direction.

"As for the side effects... I dislike sunlight a little, and my eyes seem to be getting a little shortsighted."

After listening, Pulis merely hummed again, still calm. His lenses reflected the light from the corridor lamps.

"You want to keep taking the medicine?"

He paused.

"Does your master allow it?"

Evan looked utterly serious.

"My master said you are not our enemy. He also said that if I wanted to take it, I should go ahead. My drug resistance is pretty strong anyway."

The corners of Pulis's mouth lifted imperceptibly.

"Fine. This is a mutually beneficial arrangement."

Evan hummed, took a deep breath, and asked what he truly wanted to know.

"Professor, do you know who cursed me?"

"This can't just be left alone. I nearly died several times that night."

Pulis lowered his head. His gaze fell on Evan's face through his lenses as he remained silent for several seconds.

"Have you become a Demon Hunter Apprentice?"

Evan honestly shook his head.

He was not sure of Pulis's true level.

If the richer someone was in this world, the stronger they were, then Pulis was definitely more than the biology professor he appeared to be.

Lying before someone like this might cost him his life if he was exposed.

Pulis nodded.

"Then I advise you not to concern yourself with this matter for now."

Evan stubbornly took half a step forward.

"It's fine. I just want to know first."

"Otherwise, without a clear direction, I feel like enemies are everywhere I go."

"At this rate, I won't even be able to take medicine in peace."

Pulis looked into Evan's pitch-black, unyielding eyes.

"Bote Alcott."

He spoke a name.

Evan's heart skipped a beat.

Bote Alcott.

He was no stranger to that name.

A third-year law student with excellent grades.

His looks were ordinary, but he was strangely popular with women.

There were not many female university students in this era to begin with, and those who could get into Sage University were even rarer. Most either came from well-connected families or possessed exceptional ability.

Female students made up only eight percent of Sage University's total enrollment. Scattered across the various faculties, every one of them was pursued relentlessly by countless admirers.

Yet several youthful, beautiful girls often followed Alcott around, entering and leaving libraries and cafes in groups.

More importantly, he had founded the Phoenix Brotherhood.

It was said that as long as one joined this Brotherhood, one could learn plenty of "special knowledge" and easily win over the girl one desired.