Chapter 114

After both sides reached an agreement, the atmosphere immediately became tense. Dustin and Mr. Wangley had their subordinates purchase medicine. Their plan was to concoct poisons on the spot and drink them simultaneously. The victor would be determined by their respective skills.

"Do you think Dustin will make it, Sis? What if he's poisoned to death?" Ruth anxiously asked.

"Well, since he agreed, I suppose he's confident. Have faith," Natasha assured with a straight face. Though outwardly calm, she felt uneasy inside. She would have preferred Dustin simply admit defeat.

"But Dustin's only proficient in medicine. Surely he can't beat Mr. Wangley's experience in poison research," Ruth murmured, shaking her head. Medicine has many vastly different subfields; how can an amateur compete with a professional?

Compared to her sisters' worries, Jessica felt secondhand embarrassment for Dustin. She wasn't sure whether to call him arrogant or stupid for agreeing to compete with a master poison-maker. Still, she found the situation amusing. If Dustin lost, he'd be dead or crippled, eliminating her daughter's marriage concerns.

"I advise you to withdraw, Mr. Boy Toy; otherwise, you might not regret your decision when the poison takes effect!" Quentin pressed.

"Frankly, I commend your bravery. You're willing to put your life in someone else's hands. Did you consider that if the old man loses, you might die?" Dustin pointed out flatly.

"Ridiculous! Mr. Wangley has researched poisons for years. How could he lose? You'll see!" Quentin laughed.

Dustin chuckled but said nothing. Moments later, the subordinates returned with the medicine.

Immediately, Mr. Wangley began concocting his poison with lightning speed, his movements dizzying. Dustin, meanwhile, worked at his own pace.

After a while, Mr. Wangley finished. The result was a bottle of viscous, black liquid, faintly smelling of rotting fish.

"I'm done, Mr. Boy Toy. Dare you drink it?" Quentin taunted, placing the bottle on the table and glaring. The black potion was clearly highly poisonous; anyone ingesting it would be in grave danger.

"Let's forget this whole thing, Dustin! Anyone who drinks this will die!" Ruth pleaded, upset. Natasha also clenched her fists.

"It's just poison. Nothing to worry about," Dustin grinned, picking up the bottle and drinking it in one gulp. His swift, confident action froze Quentin. Was this punk unafraid of death? he thought.

"How are you feeling?" Natasha urgently asked.

"My mouth is bitter, but otherwise, the taste is fine," Dustin assessed. Natasha was speechless. The corners of her mouth twitched. Did he think I was asking about the taste? she thought incredulously.

"You don't have to pretend, young man. Bow to Mr. Harmon and admit your mistakes if you want me to save you," Mr. Wangley said amusedly.

"Your 'poison' is mildly toxic at best," Dustin replied, smacking his lips. "If I'm not mistaken, that's Devil's Elixir. It's a good poison, but you used the wrong ingredients. You should have used aconite instead of epiphyllum. While their medicinal properties are similar, there are key differences affecting potency."

"How did you know? Did you peek?" Mr. Wangley gasped, shocked. He was correct about the poison and the use of epiphyllum.

"Necessary to peek? I could tell by the smell," Dustin retorted. "You used five ingredients: strychnine, Zeus' Vine, oranges, phyllanthus, and a sliver of Devil's grass. A shame you weren't closer to the perfect poison."

Mr. Wangley shuddered. This punk had listed every ingredient. He'd be fine if Dustin had peeked, but deducing it from smell alone was terrifying. Even he would take years to reach that level.

What happened, Mr. Wangley? Minutes have passed, and he hasn't reacted, Quentin thought uneasily.

"Rest assured, Mr. Harmon. He's bluffing. Without an antidote, he'll die," Mr. Wangley declared confidently, recovering from his shock. Even if Dustin found a cure, the poison wouldn't be completely eliminated because Mr. Wangley added something extra.

"Good," Quentin sighed in relief.

"I'm done," Dustin declared, presenting a bottle of yellow liquid. Steam rose from the foul-smelling, hot liquid. It looked disgusting.

"What the hell is that? It reeks!" Quentin sneered, covering his nose.

"It stinks, but it tastes good. Try it," Dustin said casually, pushing the bottle toward them.

"You're not chickening out, are you, Quentin Harmon?" Natasha pressed.

Quentin hesitated, looking at Mr. Wangley.

"Relax, Mr. Harmon. I saw every ingredient this kid used. Even if you ingest the poison, I can make an antidote in under three minutes!" Mr. Wangley confidently assured.

"Great. Here we go!" Quentin exclaimed, regaining his courage. He picked up the bottle, pinched his nose, and drank it.

"Eugh!" Quentin gagged. It felt like it was coming back up. It reeked and tasted bitter, rancid, and disgusting; like eating excrement.

"It doesn't count if you spit it out!" Dustin reminded.

"You–" Quentin gritted his teeth, swallowing it back down. It would be a waste to spit it out after all that effort.

"What did you add? Why does it stink so much?" A lingering taste remained.

"Nothing much. Just some golden juice," Dustin said flatly.

Mr. Wangley's face contorted in shock. Even Jessica raised an eyebrow.

"'Golden juice'? What's that?" Quentin asked uneasily.

"'Golden juice,' 'golden liquid,' or 'fecal fluid'—it means human excrement," Dustin explained with a grin.