Chapter 1583

"What a shallow view!" Rhea snorted dismissively, stowing her phone, notebook, and pen. Pausing, she stepped forward and knelt before Austin, meeting his gaze. "Do all herbal medicine practitioners like you think yourselves so great, capable of saving people and contributing to humankind?"

Austin chuckled coldly. "Do all mainstream doctors like you think our world isn't chaotic enough, that you try to prove yourselves using various viruses? What do you have without your equipment?"

"You're right," Rhea conceded calmly, clicking her tongue. "But can you conduct your experiments without it?"

Austin, speechless but convinced of his own righteousness, snorted.

Rhea continued thoughtfully, her arms gracefully resting one atop the other. Tilting her head, she seemed a curious, innocent girl exploring the unknown. "I'm only curious how many people would risk their lives selflessly in the face of a doomsday virus." However, her words were unsettling.

"Just because you're curious?" Austin found it hard to believe.

"What else?" she shrugged indifferently. "Our world is so dull. I live for things that intrigue me, that make me want to learn more. Otherwise, what's the difference between being alive and dead?"

"You..." Austin realized the futility of reasoning, even communicating, with her. He couldn't understand her thinking based on common sense. She's not normal, he thought, she's a lunatic! Turning away, he closed his eyes, trying to relax. The drug's effects would soon bring agonizing pain, draining his strength. He desperately needed to recover.

Rhea observed his quiet profile, curled her lips, and stood. "If you can get through this, you'll thank me. However..." She left unfinished, departing.

Austin heard the door close and slowly opened his eyes. He understood her unspoken words: If I can't get through this, I might die. Death might be a good end, given the circumstances. What I fear is becoming some kind of monster.

He slowly raised his hand, noting the bulging green veins. Starvation had thinned him, making the veins, intensified by the drug, conspicuous. He feared transforming into something monstrous, terrifying even to himself. He felt utterly lost; Professor Thompson was dead. No one can save me, he despaired, striking the floor hard, heedless of the bleeding. He had no idea where he was. *No one!