Chapter 233 Fancy a Drink?

“Your pulse shows signs of long-standing poisoning,” the dean explained. “This toxin is sneaky, hard to detect initially, but it builds up in your lungs, slowly draining your energy. Early treatment with acupuncture and medicine can help. But if it’s ignored for too long, and the toxins reach a critical level…”

The elderly man looked at Maggie with pity, his tone somber.

Maggie withdrew her wrist, her expression steady. “So, there’s no cure for this poison?” she commented.

The old man turned to a bookshelf, selected a book, and flipped through its pages. After a moment, he found what he was looking for and pushed the book toward Maggie.

“If I’m right, you’ve been poisoned by something called ‘Dream Venom,’” he explained. “As it spreads, you’ll experience a barrage of illusions before your final breath. Regrets, grudges, loves, and unfulfilled wishes will haunt you. Every memory will become excruciating, and the poison will then unleash its full fury.”

His voice was serene, and Maggie felt a sense of peace.

Maggie’s gaze swept over the page, revealing details about the ‘Dream Venom’ poison. It was concocted from a mix of deadly herbs—aconite, asarum, and geranium—but the exact recipe and potency remained shrouded in mystery.

The book stated that before death, the victim's face would turn blue, their lips would turn golden, and their pupils would dilate. Their life would flash before their eyes. Hence the poison’s name.

Following a brief silence, Maggie gently turned the weathered pages of the ancient tome.

The book, aged and worn, with several pages torn out, contained a mix of detailed and vague information. Clearly, documentation on ‘Dream Venom’ was scarce.

“The art of using this poison is rare, and its antidote is hard to find,” the old man explained, his words sinking into Maggie’s thoughts. “It’s sneaky, with no smell or taste, and it doesn’t show its effects immediately. By the time it’s noticed, it’s usually too late, having already spread through the body’s core, rendering treatment pointless.”

She fixated on the description in the ancient tome: “face turns blue, lips turn gold”—a haunting image indeed.

Meeting the old man’s gaze, she asked softly, “Will dying make me look ugly?”

The old man paused, then flashed a gentle smile. “My dear, how many find their final moments pleasant?” he asked. “And with a lethal poison spreading, the symptoms are hardly going to be enjoyable.”

“I see. Thanks,” Maggie said. She didn’t want to linger.

“Wait a moment, miss,” the old man interjected. “While I might not have the antidote, there could be others who can help.”

“So you’re saying there’s a chance?” Maggie’s eyes lit up with hope, though she realized it might not be simple.

The old man advised, in a resonant tone, “It’s worth a try. Look for Zacharias Hudson, the Miracle Healer; Wilfred Roster, the National Physician; Waylon Cricket, the Phantom Surgeon; or Flora West, the Angel of Medicine. If you can reach out to any of them, or their descendants, there might be a chance.”

Maggie quickly memorized the names.

The old man elaborated: “The Hudsons and the Rosters are well-known in medicine. The Hudsons are discreet, with their descendants occasionally surfacing. Meanwhile, the Rosters hold a high status, admired by many. Mr. Roster Sr. is currently the national physician, making it difficult for ordinary people to seek his help.”

When the Rosters were mentioned, Maggie thought of Leslie Roster.

As far as she recalled, Leslie was a Roster, celebrated for his extraordinary medical talents. Few dared to challenge them.

She needed to rule out the Rosters first. Their involvement wouldn’t stay secret in Swallowton. If a cure was possible, great. If not…

“Then there’s Waylon Cricket, the Phantom Surgeon,” the old man continued. “He might not specialize in medical poisons, but he could have useful medical knowledge. Finding him won’t be easy, though. He’s elusive, with a unique personality and no known connections.”

“Flora West was known for her consultations and healing prowess, earning the admiration of many,” the old man explained. “But a tragic mistake—the death of nine family members due to conflicting medications—caused her to seclude herself in remorse, refusing to practice medicine again.”

The old man offered a glimmer of hope. “While you’ve been poisoned for a while, you’re not at death’s door yet. With the right treatment, there’s a chance you could survive. Even if we can’t fully rid you of the poison, it might buy you another year or two.”

Expressing her gratitude, Maggie thanked the old man before departing. Despite her polite demeanor, her mood remained somber. She quickly called Lucas, urging him to investigate Zacharias and Flora’s backgrounds.

Each of the four individuals, despite their considerable age difference, possessed remarkable medical skills. Notably, the Phantom Surgeon stood out for his surgical prowess. He couldn't help her, and she knew she couldn't seek out the Rosters either, leaving her with two options.

“What’s driving this sudden investigation?” Lucas inquired, eyeing the screen full of data.

“A friend’s health concerns have sparked my curiosity,” Maggie explained.

Lucas refrained from further questioning. “Flora’s data is sparse. Much of it is outdated, and she’s been off the radar for the last two years. Last seen in Deuceland, two years ago.”

Maggie, exhausted from the consultation, sighed and massaged her temples. “Please forward the details to my phone.”

“Sure thing.”

11:25 Sat, 25 May

Chapter 233 Fancy a Drink?

As Maggie skimmed through the information, a familiar name caught her eye: Samuel Hudson.

Maggie was speechless. Zacharias’s son was Mr. Hudson!

How had she missed this?

The Harrises held both nobility and power, and being a descendant of the Harris lineage, Timothy had been frail since childhood. It was only natural that Master Harris wouldn’t remain passive. It now made perfect sense why the Harrises could enlist the aid of the Hudsons.

The data indicated that Samuel, Zacharias’s youngest son, carried on his father’s legacy. He had lost his wife early in life and later suffered the tragic death of his son, after which he disappeared from public view.

If this account was accurate, Samuel should have remained close to Timothy following these hardships.

With such a capable physician tending to him and providing guidance, it was no wonder Timothy thrived.

Moreover, judging from Timothy’s rapport with Mr. Hudson, it was clear they shared a strong bond.

Considering Timothy’s temperament and Nathael’s advice, Maggie had a headache.

Yet, the old man’s words lingered in her mind: the poison was incurable, and they could only strive to manage it. If Samuel shared the same view, perhaps there was no alternative.

Maggie reviewed the details about Flora. Most of the photos Lucas had shared dated back years, showing her medical practice on Looming Peak in Aquapolis. Those seeking aid would trek up the mountain, offering donations at the temple where Flora resided in exchange for treatment.

Since the tragedy, Flora rarely emerged, preferring to wander.

Lucas mentioned it might take a while to track Flora down, promising to keep Maggie updated.

Maggie nodded, slipped into the driver’s seat, and let her thoughts swirl.

Am I going to die?

But I can’t make my peace like this.

Will I really die?

Sure, everyone dies eventually, but not like this.

Just then, Mia’s voice chimed through the phone: “Fancy a drink?”