This kind of ugly yet clever creature is the real master of the city. They gather on the street trees and mock the passers-by with their hoarse and monotonous voices:
Wow, wow, bad luck!
Occasionally, they will show off their superb flying skills under a sky covered with spoke-shaped clouds.
Most of the passers-by's faces were as ugly as their dead parents. They stared with hateful eyes at the black shadows hovering in the sky and the strange cloud formations higher up.
After entering late September, the sky in Xiacheng was covered by this kind of cloud. In less than a week, a total of 6 earthquakes of about magnitude 3, 3 of magnitude 4, and 2 of magnitude 5 occurred.
The magnitude and intensity of the earthquake are far from reaching the limit of the city's capacity, and fragile people's hearts have been shaken first.
More than half of the sound waves and radio waves that shuttled through the air in Xia City were shouting desperately:
Earthquake cloud, earthquake cloud!
This "civilian science concept" is openly appearing in the mouths of various experts and scholars and appearing in the media in the civilized era that is about to enter the 22nd century.
Ronan was somewhat affected.
When he stepped off the low-altitude bus with the black leather notebook that he never left behind, the bracelet on his wrist vibrated. After the signal was connected, his aunt, Ms. Luo Shuqing, said:
"When you go home tonight, your uncle has cooked dinner!"
Due to frequent earthquakes in recent days, his aunt, who had allowed him to live independently, immediately tore up the agreement and repeatedly asked him to go back and live with her so that she could take care of him.
Ronan would never agree. He worked so hard to get into Zhixing Academy just for the day of independence and freedom. What's more, it is the most critical moment now. If he delays for one day, God knows what the consequences will be!
The problem is that Ronan has never been good at words, and the reasons he proposed were not convincing at all. Things became more and more tense, and his aunt was about to reach out from the phone and take him back.
When he was having a headache, a message came through. Ronan only glanced at it briefly, then secretly sighed at his good luck, and quickly added another word: "I have to review today, and I will have an interview with the club tomorrow..."
"Interview? Which club?"
"Uh, Occult Research Society."
"Occult?"
Ms. Luo Shuqing was a little suspicious, and soon she greeted over there:
"Moya, Moya!"
Not long after, a slightly hoarse voice joined the call, with a unique lazy tone. It was Ronan's cousin Moya, who had just graduated from Zhixing College last year.
"I know the Occult Research Society. It is said that it is very rich and the people there are also very willful."
Luo Shuqing couldn't stand her daughter's attitude the most, and immediately scolded her: "Speak up!"
Moya laughed "ha": "No matter how well you say it, it's not good for your 'biological son'. One month into the school year, he is still in the interview. He is obviously not in the same league! Zhixing College is promoting the integration of the East and the West, and Western thinking is very serious.
, there is no club life, just cut off credits first, and as for further studies, find a tutor, there will never be anything good in the school recommendation letter..."
The argument that added fuel to the fire instantly triggered another mother-daughter war. The focus of the conflict shifted, and Ronan, who was hundreds of kilometers apart, was able to escape unscathed.
At this time, Ronan had been standing in his living room for almost half an hour. It was already dark, and the lights in the living room that turned on automatically cast his figure into the window of the high-rise apartment opposite.
Ronan gave the command and the curtains closed automatically.
But at this moment, a dark figure passed through the curtain that was about to close, landed on the open balcony, opened the sliding door of the French window with a thick beak, and walked in with an indescribable calmness.
This uninvited guy is a typical bald-nosed crow. Except for the base of the gray beak, it is completely black. It looks thick and muscular, a circle larger than its kind. Under the soft light, its feathers are dark and dark.
There are changes between the blue and the blue.
After walking around the room for a few steps, the crow fluttered its wings and jumped onto the coffee table in the living room. Then it leaned forward and a sealed glass test tube the size of a thumb slipped out of its thick beak and landed on the coffee table. Inside was half a tube of white
powder.
After spitting out the foreign matter in his throat, the crow felt much more comfortable and showed off his voice:
"Scratch!"
"Ink, shut up!"
In a closed space, the crow of a crow is a disaster. Ronan scolded him, took the test tube to clean, took out the prepared strips of cooked meat, and blocked its mouth.
Despite being named "Ink", the crow is still very talkative and has a very elegant meal. It even gestured with its wings to ask Ronan to pour it a glass of water.
Dinner was also placed on the table next to it. It was perfectly in line with the monotonous craftsmanship of Home Intelligent Brain. The color, aroma and taste were mediocre. The important thing was that the portion was generous and could feed three or five people. Ronan showed a superhuman appetite.
And the speed is extremely fast, and it ends exactly in sync with the ink.
After Mo Mo had eaten and drank enough, he quickly got out of the sliding door of the French window, fluttered his wings and flew away.
Ronan put away the cups and dishes, and was about to go to the study when his bracelet vibrated again. This time, the person contacting him was his cousin Moya. She was exactly the same as her mother, and she also said the same sentence:
"How should you thank me this time?"
"Uh, thank you, sister."
"Tch, I can't do anything else!"
Mo Ya knew that Ronan was clumsy, so she stopped teasing him and went straight to the point: "Did someone recommend that occult research club, or did you take the initiative?"
"I chose it myself..."
"Any idea where it goes?"
Ronan thought for a while and simply replied: "It is half society and half research institute, with private capital injection, strong strength, and extremely high autonomy compared to the academy."
Moya sneered: "It's cool to watch, isn't it?"
Ronan didn't know how to answer for a moment.
Moya reminded him: "It is a playground for the rich second generation. The core staff form their own circle and study some weird things every day to pass the time. Students from ordinary families work there as handymen. So it looks very
Beautiful, but only for that 'circle', it has nothing to do with academics and skills..."
Ronan interrupted Moya's indoctrination: "We can do experiments there."
Moya raised her voice and sighed with an "oh" sound: "It seems that your experiments are getting more and more difficult. But brother, you should go to a physics or chemistry hobby club to do experiments."
Ronan responded calmly: "Those clubs require an internship period. I already obtained the relevant qualifications in junior high school. There is no need to repeat my previous job."
"Is the Occult Research Club okay?"
"Yes, I read the introduction and the school forum. It is the only club that can carry out independent and free experiments in the freshmen stage, and many of them involve the field of psychotropic drugs, which is exactly what I need."
Moya laughed at him: "Can a handyman engage in free experiments?"
"Skilled workers may be able to do it, but it would be even better if the boss is a layman."
Mo Ya, who has always been sharp-tongued, was choked by Ronan's words. She waited for a few seconds before speaking:
"Okay, Mr. Journeyman. I just want to remind you that if you change clubs at Zhixing College, you will definitely be labeled as a 'misfit'. For the next four years... Oh no, you are in the tenth grade, so it will be eight years.
, you will have plenty of time to regret it.”
"oh."
Ronan's response made Moya sneer: "Okay, now let's talk about remuneration."
"remuneration?"
"Fen Fen is willing to block the gun for you, just say thank you and that's it?"
"Uh, what do you want?"
"Lend me your apartment for one night to hold a small party."
Ronan hesitated: "What's the date?"
"On the 15th of next month, there are still 20 days left..."
"19 days."
"...Okay, 19 days. I don't need you to prepare anything. As long as you hide and move those shameful things, I will arrange the rest."
Ronan calculated the time: "It should be no problem, but you have to give me a heads up five days in advance."
"If you don't like it, then that's it."
After hanging up the phone, Ronan was having a headache about the "temporary relocation" that would take place 19 days later.
Even so, he was still grateful to Moya. If it hadn't been for his cousin's protection over the years, how could he have continued to carry out dangerous experimental work under the eyes of his aunt?
Shaking his head, Ronan decided to leave all the chores to tomorrow.
Now, it is 19:22 on September 26, 2096 AD. The inefficient day has finally passed, and Ronan has ushered in a quiet and precious night.
He walked into the study room, and there was a black leather box placed neatly on the desk. It was quite large and looked quite awkward.
Enter your fingerprint and password, lift the lid of the box, and with a low hissing sound, the containers neatly arranged in layers and categories in the box are lifted up layer by layer, and under the traction of their respective vehicles, they seem to be stretched out.
The petals enter the predetermined position one by one.
In an instant, the desk becomes a simple yet complete workbench.
Ronan took out a medical portable refrigerator from the bookcase and placed it on the table. After opening it, it contained various packaged pharmaceutical raw materials. The white powder delivered by the ink was also put into it after a series of tests confirmed that it was correct.
At this point, all the materials and utensils needed for the night's work are ready... at least everything that can be prepared is here.
After doing all this, Ronan took a deep breath, then opened the secret compartment on the side of the desk and took out an old notebook.
The cover of the notebook is brown, and the shape is the same as the notebook that Ronan always keeps with him. They are loose-leaf. However, due to years of use and the influence of the large amount of pen and ink records inside, the brown-covered notebook looks looser, and the cover is somewhat bulging. The inside
There is no paper-like soft screen either.
Ronan put his notebook aside and carefully opened the brown leather notebook.
In the middle of the title page of the note, there is a neat hand-drawn figure. Just like what often appears in geometry classes, a triangular pyramid, to be precise, a regular tetrahedron, and its inscribed spheres and circumscribed spheres, together form a complete set of
Flawless graphic structure.
Under this group of graphics, someone wrote four short sentences in a scrawled handwriting that seemed to make sense but did not make sense:
My heart is like a prison, my heart is like a furnace;
My heart is called the mirror, and my heart is called the country.
Ronan did not dare to say that he could understand the true meaning of this group of graphics and sixteen words. However, every time he turned to this page and watched and silently recited, all the messy thoughts would settle down, and his mind would naturally become clear and quiet.
After staying on the title page for a few seconds, Ronan turned back and looked for content and keywords related to pharmaceutical preparations in the dense words. He pondered over those profound words and complex molecular formulas:
"Weak effect, substitution, simplification...Grandpa, please help me!"
In the murmur, time passed by quickly.
The lights outside the window turned on and off. In front of the workbench, Ronan's attention was always going back and forth between the notebook and the experimental utensils, adding various pharmaceutical raw materials based on the data in the notebook.
During this period, he only took a nap during the slow reaction stage of the raw materials and slept for about two hours.
At 3:15 in the morning, as the last drop of solution was added, the turbid liquid in the reaction vessel began to boil violently, and its color slowly changed.
Ronan stared closely at the transparent vessel that seemed to explode at any time to confirm whether the reaction met the requirements. After two minutes, he moved his somewhat stiff neck and began to clean up the debris on the experimental table while counting in a low voice:
"Dimethyltryptamine stock is 0, Cassidy stock is 0, medroxyfenac is 2 mg, cetilistat is 5 mg..."
Following his words, the personal notebook spread out on the experimental table, the soft paper-like screen opened flickered, and the record table on the interface automatically changed the relevant data. The stocks of most of the drugs in it have been reset to zero, or
Infinitely approaches zero.
The debris that Ronan cleaned up was mainly the packaging containers of these medicines. He sorted the recyclable ones for cleaning and disinfection and the non-recyclable ones. It took about half an hour to restore order and cleanliness to the small workbench.
The light green medicine in the reaction vessel also slowly cooled after continuous boiling. At this point, it was basically certain that his efforts throughout the night were not in vain.
However, there is also a corresponding short record in the brown leather notebook: "Q-11R developed multiple peripheral neuritis; Q-27R developed allergic symptoms and was on the verge of death; other experimental subjects showed no abnormality... It basically has a substitution effect, and side effects are difficult
Sure."
Ronan shook his head, guessing that the time was still a little short, so he swiped the soft screen to connect to the Internet and enter the "Secret Star" forum that he often visited.
Although it was early in the morning, the night owls on the forum were still having a lively debate.
The center of the debate was Xia Cheng.
The recent weird "earthquake period" in Xia City has set off waves of climax in this forum full of mystical tendencies. Many people are discussing the causes of earthquakes, geological structure, plate resonance, leakage of vitality... What's so strange?
Weird topics can be brought up.
Some people even swear that a large company is conducting secret experiments in Xiacheng recently, which may be the source of this "earthquake period".
Ronan has no interest in these boring topics at all. To say he is interested, there are only two points:
1. Will the earthquake affect his experiments?
Second, will the growing panic allow my aunt to take him back by force?
Ronan habitually entered the permission password and was about to log in to the internal section of the forum, but the website prompt popped up: "Your permissions are insufficient, please apply for verification from the administrator."
For a moment, Ronan was stunned and slapped his forehead lightly. Yes, he had been kicked into the dark room. The reason for being banned was simple: during extraordinary times, all purchase stickers would be treated as fishing stickers.
This is a new rule established by the forum after the police destroyed a transnational illegal drug trading network half a month ago. The news was getting louder, but Ronan was caught in the crossfire.
Having your ID blocked is not a big deal, but being cut off from drug channels is a big problem.
Judging from his current stock of pharmaceutical raw materials, even if Ms. Luo Shuqing does not take action, he will soon be unable to continue. And among the fifty commonly used drugs required, most of them are included in the psychotropic drug control list. As a minor,
He couldn't buy it from a drugstore.
Is it really necessary to take the "black line"?
Although this channel on the "Secret Star" forum is illegal, the source of goods is quite reliable. Many of them are "additional transactions" by manufacturers to avoid strict psychotropic drug control, and they can barely be considered a "commercial" category.
As for the "black line", the quality of the trial products brought by "Ink" today is pretty good. But the supply of goods on this line is for serious crimes, and its upstream and downstream are closely related to gangs - to put it bluntly,
That's a bunch of drug dealers!
So...compared to dealing with drug dealers, what's the point of joining the Occult Research Society as a handyman? He doesn't expect to get the raw materials from the society, as long as he can find a new evolution channel, he will make money.
Finally, the liquid in the reaction vessel stopped boiling and cooled rapidly.
Ronan immediately put aside all distracting thoughts, opened the valve, let the medicine flow into the prepared needleless syringe, and then injected this huge amount of psychotropic drug mixture into the blood vessel of his upper arm.
From beginning to end, his expression did not change at all.
Next, Ronan meticulously cleaned the experimental equipment, and then pressed the reset button to restore it to a black suitcase. Then he took off his experimental gloves, carefully put the brown leather notebook back into the hidden compartment, and put the refrigerator in
Hide it in the bookcase and go to the bathroom to wash up.
At 4 o'clock sharp, Ronan changed into a sports hoodie, walked out of the house with a black leather notebook that he never left behind, and began his unshakable daily morning run.