97: Chapter 97: Did Insecticides Cure the Global Plague? That's Unscientific!

Tianhai City First Hospital, special isolation ward.

This place was originally meant for dealing with Ebola-level threats, but now it housed three young customs officers.

Even through the thick explosion-proof glass, one could feel the suffocating despair inside.

The ECG monitor emitted a monotonous and rapid "beep-beep" sound, as if keeping time for the Grim Reaper. The three young people on the hospital beds had purple-blue faces, their lungs feeling as if they were filled with cement. Every breath required them to exhaust all their strength, their chests heaving violently, yet they couldn't inhale even a sliver of oxygen.

"It's useless..."

Dean Zhong Guodong, his hair completely white, slumped into his chair, the medical chart in his hand sliding to the floor.

He looked at the rows of life sign data flashing red, his eyes bloodshot. "The degree of pulmonary fibrosis has already exceeded 90%, and oxygen saturation has fallen below 60%. This is irreversible damage. Even if a deity came down, there's no way to turn lungs that have become stone back into flesh!"

The surrounding experts lowered their heads; no one dared to speak.

This sense of powerlessness was more painful than being killed.

Just at this moment of absolute silence in the room.

"Bang!"

The airtight door of the isolation room was kicked open from the outside.

He hadn't changed into a protective suit, and he wasn't even wearing a mask.

Jiang Chen was wearing that wrinkled shirt, with a paint-chipped metal can tucked under his arm, walking in swaggeringly like a plumber coming to fix the sewer.

"What are you all staring at?"

He glanced at the group of mourning experts in the room, his brow furrowing. "They haven't breathed their last yet, and you've already started mourning? Can't you hope for something better?"

"Jiang Chen!"

Zhong Guodong stood up abruptly, as if grabbing the last straw of hope. "Where's the medicine? Where's the miracle drug? Hurry up and take it out!"

All eyes instantly focused on Jiang Chen.

Everyone was expecting him to pull out some high-tech injection glowing with blue light, or some kind of expensive-looking nano-capsule.

However.

Jiang Chen just slowly took out that broken can from under his arm and shook it in his hand.

"Swish, swish—"

The sound of liquid sloshing inside could be heard.

"Here, this is it."

Jiang Chen placed the can on the table. "Just mixed it, fresh and hot."

The whole room petrified.

Zhong Guodong stared at that can, his eyeballs nearly popping out.

This thing... no matter how you looked at it, it looked like leftover insecticide from a supermarket used for spraying cockroaches!

It even had a yellow label with a skull drawn on it. Although they couldn't read the strange symbols, the "toxic, keep away" vibe was practically hitting them in the face.

"This... this is medicine?"

An old expert from the respiratory department pointed at the can, trembling. "Mr. Jiang, is this meant to be drunk, or is it an injection?"

"Neither."

Jiang Chen shook his head, picked up the can, and pressed the nozzle like he was holding hairspray. "This is for inhaling."

After speaking, he didn't give anyone time to react, directly pointing it at the three dying patients and pressing the switch.

"Hiss—"

A stream of pale blue mist sprayed out.

There was no nauseating medicinal smell; instead, it was an extremely crisp, cool sensation, like a peppermint bomb detonating in the nasal cavity, instantly permeating the entire ward.

"Stop! That's an aerosol!"

The old expert screamed in terror. "The patients' lungs are extremely fragile right now; any irritating gas will cause..."

His words were cut off in his throat before he could finish.

Because he saw an incredible scene.

The blue mist didn't disperse; instead, it seemed to have a life of its own, automatically crawling into the three patients' nostrils and mouths.

The next second.

A miracle occurred.

"Cough! Cough, cough!"

The patients, who could only emit weak rasping sounds before, suddenly began to cough violently.

Immediately after, they sat up abruptly and, facing the trash can by the bed, let out a "blech" sound, spitting out a large mouthful of black, viscous phlegm that looked like asphalt.

With this phlegm spat out.

The alarming, heart-stopping sound of the monitor... actually stopped.

Heart rate dropped from 160 to 90.

Blood oxygen soared from 60 directly to 98!

Their originally purple-blue complexions returned to a healthy rosy color at a speed visible to the naked eye, as if someone had pressed the "factory reset" button on them.

"Huff... huff..."

The youngest customs officer in the middle took a deep breath.

It was a long-lost feeling of air entering the alveoli without obstruction.

He opened his eyes in confusion, looked at the group of stunned doctors in white coats surrounding the bed, touched his chest—which had been in excruciating pain but now felt completely cool—and asked weakly:

"Um... doctor."

"I think... I'm hungry."

"Does our hospital cafeteria have hot pot? The super spicy kind."

"..."

Silence.

Dead silence.

Zhong Guodong opened his mouth wide, his jaw nearly dislocating. The group of top experts looked as if they had seen a ghost, not even noticing that the pens in their hands had dropped all over the floor.

Cured?

Just like that, they're cured?

That terrifying virus that could cause pulmonary fibrosis and had a 30% mortality rate was just... sprayed away by this broken can?!

Is this even treating an illness? This is basically magic!

"Incredible... This is simply a subversion of medicine!"

The old expert rushed up like a madman, snatched the can from Jiang Chen's hand, and sniffed it under his nose. "What exactly are the ingredients in this? Targeted nano-robots? Or some kind of super enzyme?"

"Neither."

Jiang Chen shrugged, snatched the can back, and wiped it off like a precious treasure. "This is just a can of... um, environmental purifier."

"Simply put, it disinfects the air and helps clear their lungs at the same time."

"As for the principle..."

He looked at those thirsty-for-knowledge eyes and casually bluffed:

"You can understand it as this thing being able to treat viruses like dust and decompose them directly."

Decompose viruses?

Easy for him to say! The technological content involved is probably higher than building an atomic bomb!

But the facts were right before their eyes.

The three young people who had originally been sentenced to death were now full of life, clamoring to order takeout. Apart from being a bit weak, one couldn't tell at all that they had just been hovering at death's door.

"Miracle medicine! This is a miracle medicine!"

Zhong Guodong was moved to tears, grabbing Jiang Chen's hand. "Jiang Chen! Can this thing be mass-produced? Right now, the whole country... no, the whole world is waiting for this to save their lives!"

"It can."

Jiang Chen nodded. "As long as there are enough raw materials, we can have as much as we want."

In the garbage dumps over in the Wasteland, this stuff is counted by the ton.

"That's great!"

Zhong Guodong turned around to run out. "I'm going to report this immediately! This is a highlight moment for our Dragon Country!"

...

The news spread faster than the virus.

When Dragon Country announced that they had "conquered the X-99 virus" and displayed the video of the three recovered patients eating hot pot, the whole world exploded.

Especially the Eagle Sauce on the other side of the ocean.

The White House, The President's office.

The President watched that video, the coffee cup in his hand shaking.

Just ten minutes ago, his personal doctor told him that his youngest daughter had also been infected and was struggling on a ventilator.

And the Pfizer and Johnson & Johnson they were so proud of still hadn't even figured out the virus's replication mechanism.

"This is impossible..."

The President slumped into his chair, looking at Jiang Chen on the screen, who was holding a broken metal can with a calm expression, and felt as if his face was being slapped repeatedly.

That was the target he had just been shifting blame onto.

Now, he had become the only savior.

"Mr. President."

The Chief of Staff pushed the door open, his face pale. "The death toll domestically has already exceeded ten thousand... The public is protesting outside The White House, demanding that we... demanding that we seek aid from Dragon Country."

"Seek aid?"

The President gritted his teeth, his eyes full of unwillingness. "We are the beacon of the world! How can we bow our heads to them?"

"But..."

The Chief of Staff opened his tablet and pulled up a photo that was just going viral on the external internet.

The photo was taken in a square in Dragon Country.

A group of aunties were wearing masks, happily dancing square dances. And on the nearby lamppost, a crude automatic spray device was hung, occasionally spraying out a puff of blue mist.

The caption read: [Dragon Country's new air freshener, not only kills viruses but also prevents mosquitoes, smells great.]

That was Jiang Chen's "insecticide."

On one side was a hellish morgue, on the other side was a happy square dance.

This stark contrast shattered the pride of all Westerners.

"They... actually used life-saving medicine as an air freshener?!"

The President felt a tightness in his chest, and a mouthful of old blood nearly sprayed out.

This was no longer just a gap.

This was naked humiliation!

"Contact Dragon Country."

The President closed his eyes, his whole person seeming to age ten years in an instant, his voice as weak as a mosquito's buzz:

"Tell them..."

"As long as they can provide the medicine."

"Never mind the chip embargo; even if they want to park that warship on top of the Statue of Liberty... I'll accept it."