NovelEnglishChapter 1360 Someone exclaimed, "My God, I get it now! This guy wasn't clueless when he was slowly picking through the ingredients! He was doing the opposite of what's normal! Dr. Lake and Dr. Bozzelli selected the needed ingredients, but Andrew first picked out what he didn't need, leaving only what he wanted!" Once someone explained it this way, everyone immediately understood. The entire venue erupted in a chorus of gasps.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtMedical experts like Malcolm could not remain seated-they stood up abruptly, their eyes widened in shock. "About 800 ingredients were all thrown in to brew the Golden Cure at once! Andrew is either completely reckless or truly a freak of nature. His medical skill truly walks the line between madness and genius!" 'Mosby let out a roar and rushed directly to Andrew, pointing at his nose in righteous indignation.
"If this actually works, I'll quit medicine for good and hand over my title as a medical master to you!" Thomas, equally shaken, shouted from his station, "Andrew, what you're brewing isn't the Golden Cure-it's a damn stew! At best, you'll end up with a pot of foul sludge. At worst, you'll poison everyone who drinks it!" Andrew rolled his eyes.
"If you don't understand what I'm doing, --- then stop flapping your gums and distracting me." Without another word, he shoved Mosby and the two old examiners out of his way, stepping back to focus on the cauldron. He carefully managed the heat, occasionally plunging his hands directly into the boiling concoction to stir it, completely unfazed by the blistering temperatures.
After all, Andrew had brewed this very elixir countless times as a child, toughening his body through a relentless regimen. This was second nature to him. Before long, the pot let out a low, rolling boil, and Andrew cut the fire, lifting the cauldron off the heat. Thick steam billowed upward, masking the color of the liquid within, its dense, swirling vapor making it impossible to see the broth beneath. Mosby crossed his arms, his sneer deepening. "What a joke.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmThat's nothing but swill-even pigs wouldn't touch it." With veins pulsing on their foreheads, Preston and Clifford shouted over the rising clamor, "You brat! Those 800 herbs were rare, expensive materials! If you've ruined them, you'll pay every last coin in compensation!" Andrew's expression remained flat. "Why don't you two old fossils cover here and actually check the results before running your mouths?" Preston and Clifford shared a cold, skeptical glance before stepping forward.
As the steam thinned, their eyes widened. The broth in ---- Andrew's cauldron had settled into a deep, pure, golden hue, its surface smooth and thick, almost like liquid silk. Both men stiffened, their eyes narrowing as they leaned in closer. The color was unnervingly perfect-too perfect. However, color alone meant nothing. The real test lay in the broth's potency. suppressing a surge of nervousness, Clifford dipped a finger into the hot liquid, carefully drawing a single droplet to his tongue.
He dared not take more, fearing that if it truly was a poisonous brew, it might kill him on the spot. Preston, watching his colleague closely, m asked, "Well? Is it just worthless Well? it sludge, like I said?" Clifford did not respond at first, his face slowly darkening, his eyes widening with each passing second. Seeing his reaction, Preston's heart skipped a beat. "Clifford? Don't tellthat one drop has already poisoned you!" Clifford shook his head slowly, his lips trembling as he found his voice.
"No... He's beyond our level. Just one drop-it's bitter at first, but quickly turns sweet as it hits the stomach, spreading a warm, invigorating heat ! through my limbs like my blood is h my coming alive. "PThis is exactly as the ancient texts describe-the perfect Golden Cure, just like the one the creator himself is said to have created. Such an achievement is something perhaps only our master could accomplish!" ---- Preston was stunned, completely at a loss for words.
"Clifford, surely you're not so poisoned that you're making jokes?" Before Clifford could respond, Mosby and Thomas, their eyes wild with disbelief, lunged for the cauldron, O scooping up handfuls of the still-hot broth without hesitation, desperate to confirm it for themselves. Both men's bodies shook violently, their faces showing expressions of disbelief. Thomas stuttered, ""T-This can't be. This absolutely can't be... The Golden Cure-this is the true Golden Cure! I admit my inferiority
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