Chapter 372 - 364: Reverse Therapy

Chapter 372: Chapter 364: Reverse Therapy

Velin sat silently before the microscope, looking again and again at the tiny black insect, at the cursed Rune.

This was man-made.

This conclusion sent another chill through the laboratory.

One can do nothing against a natural disaster, but a man-made one means a pair of eyes is watching from the shadows, ready to deliver a fatal blow when they are at their most vulnerable.

"Count." Tristan’s voice broke the silence. He handed over a new data report, a rare look of gravity in his eyes.

"This is the latest summary. Quarantine Camp Three in Sector A and Camp One in Sector B have reported four new infections over the past twelve hours."

Velin took the report. The paper listed basic information on the infected: name, age, occupation.

[Eli, blacksmith’s apprentice, twenty-one years old.]

[Reid, dockworker, twenty-eight years old.]

[John, reserve soldier, nineteen years old.]

...

Velin scanned the names and occupations.

Blacksmith’s apprentice, dockworker, reserve soldier... His brow furrowed. Without exception, they were all young, able-bodied men engaged in heavy manual labor. An unsettling thought began to form in his mind.

"Tristan," he said, looking up. "Raise the territory’s plague defense level. I also need more detailed statistics. Re-sort all the data on the infected—including the death cases we’ve gathered from outside intelligence—by age. Then, I want you to assess and note their physical strength based on their occupation."

Tristan didn’t ask why. He simply nodded and turned to leave, understanding that the Lord had likely discovered a pattern.

At Velin’s command, the entire territory’s plague containment level was raised once more. People’s movements were restricted, police patrols became more frequent, and a string of new orders limiting the residents’ activities was issued.

Still, panic did not spread.

The Lord had long since proven by his actions that the order he established was sufficient to protect every single person.

The people willingly complied with the stricter orders and curfews, leaving the streets entirely to soldiers and logistics personnel carrying out their duties. The few suspected cases that appeared outside the quarantine camps were quickly discovered and contained thanks to the airtight community management system, nipping the chain of transmission in the bud time and again.

However, those at the heart of the matter understood that this tight defensive web was merely buying a bit more of a foothold for people standing on the edge of a cliff.

A cure was the only rope that could pull them all back from the precipice.

The pressure and workload in the underground research institute mounted with each passing day.

As the number of cases grew, a clear pattern began to emerge from the death reports.

Whether it was the isolated infected within the territory, or the death reports from Sea Wind City and even other noble territories, over eighty percent of the victims were strong, able-bodied young adults between the ages of eighteen and forty.

Conversely, the infection rate among the elderly and children was unbelievably low.

"This..." Mage Elvin stared at the chart. "This is impossible. Any plague should strike down the weakest first—the elderly and children. This defies the laws of nature."

The group sank into deeper confusion. Only Velin remained silent. He closed his eyes, knowledge from his past life racing through his mind.

Virus, immune system, T-cells, B-cells... inflammatory factors... Cytokine storm!

A medical term, long forgotten in the depths of his memory, cut through the thick fog like a bolt of lightning.

"No, it hasn’t defied the laws," Velin said, his eyes snapping open. A rational light gleamed in his amber pupils. "It has merely taken a law of our world and pushed it to its absolute limit."

He walked to the display board at the front of the room and motioned for silence.

"First, I want to explain a concept." He picked up a pen. "Inside each of our bodies, there is an ’army.’ Its duty is to protect the body and eliminate all invading enemies, like germs. We’ll call it the ’immune system’ for now. You can think of it as the physical manifestation of our life force."

Valerius, Elvin, and the others were unfamiliar with these new terms, but they all listened with rapt attention.

"Normally, when an enemy invades, this army launches an attack, eliminates the enemy, and the body recovers. But," Velin’s tone turned grave.

"If it encounters a special kind of enemy, it can trick our army into an ’overreaction.’ The army goes berserk, indiscriminately deploying a massive arsenal of ’weapons’ all over the battlefield—these are what I was thinking of, the ’inflammatory factors.’ While killing the enemy, these weapons also destroy our own organs and tissues without distinction. Ultimately, before the enemy is even fully eliminated, our body—the battlefield itself—is destroyed by our own forces."

"This self-destructive phenomenon... I call it an ’inflammatory storm.’ The stronger a person’s ’army’—meaning the stronger their body and the more vigorous their life force—the more violent this storm becomes, and the faster they die."

When he finished, he pointed to the data reports on the table.

Velin’s theory was confirmed by the direct observational data from the patients. The black pustules that appeared on the infected spread faster and grew larger on those who were physically stronger.

Velin’s words provided a complete and logically sound explanation for the bizarre plague.

"So," Velin concluded, "the reason so many of our strong, young adults are dying isn’t the plague itself. It’s their own overwhelming vitality."

"Then... then what do we do?" Elias asked urgently, his voice trembling slightly.

A look of determination flashed in Velin’s eyes as he proposed a plan that left everyone dumbfounded.

"Since we can’t find a ’weapon’ that can kill the invader in one strike, we’ll change our strategy."

He scanned the room, enunciating every word. "Our goal isn’t to strengthen the patients. It’s to ’weaken’ them. We need a ’regulator’—a drug that can gently suppress the overreaction of their life force. At the same time, we need an ’inhibitor’—a drug that continuously weakens the plague itself, even if the effect is slight."

"By doing so, we can balance their life force against the virus’s rate of reproduction. Then, using the medicine and the immune system, we can slowly grind it down."

The laboratory was dead silent. ’Weaken the patients to cure them? It’s madness.’

But as they looked into Velin’s confident eyes and recalled his logical deduction, hope began to bloom uncontrollably in their hearts.

’This might be the only way.’

"Alright!" Valerius slammed his hand on the table and shot to his feet, the fighting spirit reignited in his eyes. "I’ll take charge of the ’regulator’! Alchemy has plenty of concoctions that can weaken a person. I’ll find the mildest, most controllable one!"

"The plant kingdom has similar substances," Elvin chimed in, having caught on. "I’ll start searching!"

Velin’s gaze returned to the microscope.

"Then, the most critical step... is mine."

"I will find the ’inhibitor’."