hotmtlnovel Chapter 357 Jürgen the Lawyer and the Panacea
Chapter 357 Jürgen the Lawyer and the Panacea
Chapter 357 Jürgen the Lawyer and the Panacea
"Jürgen, what are you doing here?"
The lawyer, who always dressed impeccably and meticulously, was found wearing work clothes on the chaotic streets of the East District.
Because the other party had helped him with many contract-related issues, their relationship was fairly good. Seeing the other party looking around nervously, Lorne curiously went up to greet him.
Jürgen was startled when he heard someone call his name. He immediately clutched the bag in his arms tighter and looked around warily. He visibly relaxed when he saw Lorne approaching.
"Mr. Scott! What are you doing here?" Jürgen asked.
"Just came from the factory, about to have dinner with some friends," Lorne replied casually, gesturing to Hugh beside him.
Hugh nodded politely to Jürgen, who quickly gave a brief self-introduction.
"Jürgen, what brings you to the East End?" Lorne asked curiously.
"I—" Jürgen's eyes flickered, "I'm here on business. I previously helped you with some factory contracts and title documents, and I felt there was potential in this area. I've recently taken on a few similar commissions, so I came to take a look in person—"
"So that's how it is."
Lorne glanced thoughtfully at the cloth bag the other person was clutching tightly to their chest. It definitely wasn't for carrying documents.
"Then you'd better be careful, the security situation in the East District has been quite bad lately."
"Although the security situation in the East District has never been good, the financial crisis has led to the emergence of many gangs, both large and small, which has made the security situation here even worse."
"A lawyer like you—well, with such an outstanding presence—is easily targeted by those guys as easy prey."
"That's why I deliberately changed into an inconspicuous outfit," Jürgen quickly added, seemingly trying to demonstrate his caution.
“No,” Lorne shook his head, pointing out bluntly, “You’ve changed your clothes, but your demeanor, the way you walk, the way you look at people—you’re completely out of place in the East End. Anyone with eyes can tell you’re not from here.” He glanced at Hugh beside him, seeking approval.
“That’s right,” Hugh chimed in, her gaze even more scathing. “Attorney Jürgen, you come across as too—upright and reserved, completely out of place in the East End. It’s really dangerous for you to act alone like this.”
"Really? Really?" Jürgen, startled by their words, instinctively gripped the bag in his arms even tighter, a hint of panic flashing across his face.
"Really. My factory is in the East District, and I know the situation here better than anyone else."
"Jürgen, you'd better not come here alone next time."
"It's hard to get a horse-drawn carriage here. We're heading to the intersection ahead anyway, so why don't we go together?" Lorne suggested.
"Okay—okay." As an officially recognized "Eastern District Hero," Jürgen still trusted Lorne's words.
Along the way, Lorne and Hugh chatted briefly with Jürgen about the recent situation. Lorne casually mentioned the recent flu outbreak, saying that many of his workers had fallen ill as a result.
Hearing this, Jürgen was deeply moved. He sighed softly, "Yes—my grandmother—she's sick too."
Lorne knew that Jürgen had an elderly grandmother living with him. So he asked her about it with concern.
Jürgen's face gradually darkened, and his voice became slightly hoarse: "She's already old and has always been in poor health, suffering from chronic lung disease—and this time she accidentally caught a severe cold, which developed into pneumonia, and she's been hospitalized for several days now—"
He paused for a moment, then continued with difficulty, "The doctor said she's too old, her bodily functions are declining rapidly, and this time the situation is—very pessimistic."
At this point, Jürgen's expression gradually darkened.
Lorne's bad premonition grew stronger and stronger.
He first offered a few words of comfort, then casually added, "Yes, because so many people are sick lately, many are desperate and trying anything. I heard there's been a scam in the East District about a 'miracle cure'—"
"A panacea—a scam—" Upon hearing these two words, Attorney Jürgen's body visibly stiffened, and the arm holding the bag tightened abruptly.
He whirled around to look at Lorne, his voice unusually tense and urgent: "Wh-what scam? Mr. Scott, do you know the details?"
"It's fake medicine. This kind of scam often happens in the East District, targeting patients who have nowhere else to turn." As Lorne spoke, he subtly released a barely perceptible "mental storm," not to attack, but to amplify the other party's most genuine emotional reaction at that moment.
He paused, his voice softening, with a hint of inquiry: "Could it be that you, Jürgen—have also heard about this, or even—"
"I—" Jürgen seemed to have his secret exposed, he suddenly shrank back, instinctively avoiding Lorne's gaze, and lowered his head, "I had no choice, I just wanted to try—"
Lorne and Hugh exchanged a glance, then led the distraught Jürgen to a relatively quiet café nearby.
By the dim light of the gas lamp, Lorne examined the dark green potion that Jürgen had handed him.
The color is wrong; it's clearly been diluted with more than twice the amount of water. Furthermore, the seal at the bottle opening is poor, and the expiration date is probably approaching.
As the one who made the potion himself, Lorne was able to roughly determine the condition of the potion after just a few glances.
It should still have a slight effect. A trace of spiritual energy remains in the potion, but the effect—Lorne estimates—is at most only 30% of the original's efficacy.
"Jürgen, you're a highly educated, senior lawyer. How could you believe such an absurd urban legend?" Lorne asked, looking at Jürgen, who sat across from him with a dejected expression.
"Why would you believe something that has absolutely no scientific basis?"
"I—I didn't believe it at first either!" Jürgen suddenly raised his head, his face showing a desperate, almost desperate, excitement. "A panacea? That's completely unscientific, it doesn't conform to any known medical principles! But—but—"
His voice trailed off, filled with pain and struggle: "I just—saw—"
Because he initially helped Lorne handle various contracts for factories in the East District, Jürgen gradually became familiar with the business in the East District, and as he himself said, he received many new commissions related to the East District.
During his work and investigations, he came into contact with several workers suffering from serious illnesses. At first, he didn't pay much attention to them. But later, when he met those workers again for work, he was surprised to find that those workers who had been very ill before had miraculously recovered in just a few days.
Meanwhile, his grandmother, Mrs. Doris, was hospitalized with a serious illness, and her condition was deteriorating day by day.
Through his business connections, he also heard the legend of the "panacea" from the workers.
Driven by irrational hope, this usually rational lawyer, with the mindset of "even if there's only a one in ten thousand chance, I'll give it a try," secretly inquired in the East End. In the end, through a man who seemed furtive and possibly a middleman, he spent a full fifteen pounds to buy this bottle of touted "panacea."
Hugh's eyes revealed deep sympathy. She could completely understand the other person's feelings. With a loved one's life hanging in the balance, any glimmer of hope would be magnified infinitely, enough to make even the most rational person temporarily set aside logic and doubt.
Lorne sighed heavily in his heart.
Okay—I wasn't mentioned at all in the whole story. Should I be happy or upset that James Scott wasn't mentioned?
Judging from Jürgen's account, neither he nor the person selling the medicine seemed to know that the medicine originated from them.
In some ways, this is a good thing. After all, if something really happens, it won't be traced back to him for the time being.
Although Lorne could guarantee that the medicines he personally delivered were absolutely safe, there was still a problem—this poorly diluted product, after secondary processing, was just water added this time. Who knows what other random things they might add next time, in pursuit of profit or effectiveness! If someone were to delay their treatment or even suffer an accident because of this fake medicine, it would be a real problem.
Moreover, through Jürgen's account, Lorne was able to roughly reconstruct what had happened.
Eighty percent of the time, the original medicine proved remarkably effective, and some workers with milder symptoms recovered quickly. The remaining medicine was then donated or resold to others in greater need. Because of its effectiveness, the medicine's reputation gradually spread among lower-class patients, which explains why the second batch of medicine distributed by Lorne was consumed far faster than expected.
Moreover, considering that Jürgen spent over ten pounds to buy just one bottle, it's possible that gangsters have already set their sights on these drugs and started reselling them.
Ten pounds! Even including the small amount of spiritual ingredients used, the cost of these medicines isn't nearly that high. These guys actually dare to sell them for such a high price—Lorne felt a surge of absurdity and anger.
Wait a minute! Could those rumors about "gods" also be fabricated by these drug sellers to inflate drug prices?
Few people would be interested in a "miracle drug made without proper documentation." But if it's called a "miracle drug bestowed by the gods," then it's a completely different concept!
"Jürgen, I hope you will keep what happens next a secret."
"Actually—the original version of the medicine circulating in the East District was given away."
"what?"
To Jürgen's bewilderment, Lorne explained how he had distributed the potion. The recipient was a prominent lawyer, and Lorne trusted his professional ethics. Of course, he concealed all details related to the occult, only stating that it was a herbal potion he had asked a friend to obtain from abroad, possessing certain therapeutic effects, but far from being a "panacea."
"Jürgen, you've helped me a lot before, handling both the real estate and factory contracts exceptionally well."
"As a friend, I can't watch you be deceived, and I can't bear to see Mrs. Doris's hopes jeopardized by this inferior counterfeit medicine. I can give you some of the freshest, undiluted original medicine I have on hand. Perhaps—it will be of some help to Mrs. Doris's condition."
"Don't worry, this medicine is harmless and can even be taken as a health supplement. However, Mrs. Doris is getting on in years—"
If it were a common bacterial infection, his allicin would indeed be very effective. But if it was an illness or weakness caused by aging, then such a simple medicine couldn't solve it. "Okay, thank you, Mr. Scott," Jürgen forced a smile. Although deep down he had always been skeptical of "panaceas," relying more on them for psychological comfort, the feeling of hope being shattered before his eyes still made him feel uneasy.
"Hmm." Lorne pondered for a moment, then thought of more possibilities. "I know some doctors with exceptional medical skills. I can ask them for help." He thought of the vampire in the Harvest Church, and the real "pharmacist" he had met at the "Eye of Wisdom" gathering.
"Mr. Scott," Jürgen looked up, his eyes filled with gratitude, but still bearing the caution inherent in a lawyer and a lingering trace of pessimism, "thank you, thank you so much. But—my grandmother's condition, the hospital specialists have already consulted—perhaps, this is fate."
Watching Jürgen's somber figure, Hugh remarked, "The epidemic in Backlund this year is more severe than in previous years—"
"Many healthy people are getting sick, especially the elderly—"
Huh? Lorne suddenly noticed something.
Is the infectious disease outbreak in Backlund more severe than in previous years? Many factories have shut down, so theoretically the pollution should be less. Is it just a coincidence?
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