Dexamethasone, a long-acting synthetic glucocorticoid, possesses multiple effects including anti-inflammatory, anti-allergic, and immunosuppressive properties.
This substance can treat various diseases, ranging from allergic conditions and autoimmune disorders to severe infections, and even serves in palliative care for certain cancers.
Wayne remembered from his previous life, during his childhood in his grandmother's rural village in Northeast China, the local village doctors had two primary remedies: antibiotics (usually penicillin) and hormones (typically dexamethasone).
When elderly villagers suffered from minor ailments like headaches or fevers, they could receive an IV drip in the morning and be back working in the fields by the afternoon.
For common colds, fevers, or inflammatory conditions, this approach was essentially using a cannon to kill a mosquito—akin to seven U.S. aircraft carrier fleets besieging 31 brave warriors in Greenland.
As for potential side effects of dexamethasone, such as elevated blood sugar, increased blood pressure, osteoporosis, or heightened infection risks—the question remained: Did it provide immediate relief? Did it get the job done without delay?
Sensing Wayne's excitement, Mike asked puzzledly:
"Bro, I don't know what's... going on? Is there something wrong with David's medicine?"
Wayne replied:
"Nothing wrong, absolutely nothing... cough... David, my brother, your medicine... could you help me buy some? cough... It's effective for pneumonia and coughing too."
David grinned and said:
"No problem, bro. This medicine was prescribed to me when my asthma was severe before I went bankrupt. The doctor gave me more than I could ever finish. I haven't taken it in a long time. If my asthma hadn't worsened from last night's injury, I wouldn't be taking it today..."
"This bottle only costs $6.50, and I can refill it with my prescription. How much do you want?"
Wayne checked the bottle's specifications—0.5mg × 30 tablets—pulled out $100, and handed it to David, saying:
"The more, the better... let's start with 300 tablets... cough... Uncle Raymond, how are you feeling now?"
Old Raymond, nearby, nodded and said:
"cough... I'm feeling a bit better, but still... cough... still uncomfortable."
Wayne took out one dexamethasone tablet and one antibiotic, swallowed them together, then prepared the same combination for Old Raymond, saying:
"Take these together, they'll help you."
[You have consumed beneficial medication, negative conditions are alleviating faster.]
Wayne could feel that after taking the two pills, his symptoms seemed to be subsiding more rapidly.
Dexamethasone really packs a punch.
By now, Old Raymond trusted Wayne completely and immediately took the two pills and swallowed them.
Mike asked in astonishment:
"Bro, how do you know all this? Do you understand medicine?"
His voice trembled slightly.
On the helpless streets, falling ill was the greatest fear. Without health insurance, even a minor illness could be fatal.
Encountering someone with medical knowledge was the luckiest break one could get.
Wayne blinked and said:
"For a doctor role, I once studied medicine for two years... cough... that's not important. What matters is we can make money from this..."
Mike instantly understood what he meant, but then frowned:
"Practicing medicine without a license is a serious crime. The unlicensed doctor I know has connections, and he's always hidden in Chinatown with his own clinic. If you want to get into this line of work, we don't have enough equipment or medicine..."
According to Washington state law, practicing medicine without a license—first offense misdemeanor—can result in up to one year in prison and a $5,000 fine. Multiple offenses as a felony can even lead to over ten years in prison and fines exceeding $100,000.
Even if you're the top doctor in another country, coming to America and treating patients without proper medical credentials is illegal. The more people you save, the heavier the sentence.
That aside, even if you want to practice illegally, you at least need your own clinic—a clean place where you can see patients—to gain their trust and attract customers.
Otherwise, why would anyone believe you?
Wayne shook his head, blinking as he said:
"Who said I'm going to practice medicine without a license? Cough... I just want to bless everyone with Voodoo Magic. Of course, for the magic to work, they must drink the Magic Potion I brew."
Mike was taken aback at first, then looked at the fish antibiotics and dexamethasone in Wayne's hand and said with a bitter smile:
"Will this really work...? But our tent is just too shabby, and it's too late to rent a place now..."
Even if he contributed all his $1,800, renting a place immediately would still take at least a week or two. Given their situation, they could only afford the worst neighborhoods.
The kind controlled by gangs.
Wayne smiled and said:
"Don't worry, brother. I'll find a way. If you come across anyone who needs medical help, you can recommend them to me."
Although Mike wasn't very confident in Wayne's plan, he still nodded and said:
"Alright, brother. I'll do my best to help you figure something out this week. I still have my job as a supermarket stocker—I can ask my boss for an advance on my salary. If that doesn't work, I can even take out a high-interest loan from the Blood Gang. Gold Chain Will has been trying to get me to join the Blood Gang..."
David, standing nearby, said somewhat awkwardly to Wayne:
"Sorry, brother. Because of my asthma, I haven't been able to find a steady job—just odd jobs here and there—so I haven't saved much money... But I can sell blood. I've never used Enhancement Drugs, so my blood quality is pretty good."
After saying this last part, a hint of pride flashed across David's face.
Wayne felt a surge of warmth in his heart, deeply moved. He assured them he would find a way and urged Mike not to borrow money from the Blood Gang.
After chatting a bit more, Mike pulled a relatively clean set of clothes from his bag, changed into them, took out a treasured bottle of perfume, and sprayed it generously. He said goodbye to Wayne and headed out.
He was off to work at the supermarket.
For Wayne, he was already three hours late today.
David also bid a hurried farewell to Wayne before heading off to his daily gig—he'd found temporary work online as a sign holder for an LGBT protest, earning a few dozen bucks for a day's work at a nearby demonstration.
After both had departed and Old Raymond had fallen asleep again, Wayne ate a cold hot dog, drank a Coke, and headed out with his little dog Wick.
A craftsman must sharpen his tools first. Since he intended to become a Witch Doctor, he needed to gather more professional gear.
He remembered Old John's tattered tent had contained numerous Voodooism tools. Though the tent had been burned down, there should still be some salvageable items worth searching for.
Moreover, given the system's nature, he needed to explore more areas and interact with the outside world to trigger new plotlines.
Tucking two medicine bottles into his pocket, Wayne walked along the street from memory while checking his attributes:
[Class: Adventurer (Level 1, Career Path Not Selected)
Titles: Court Rebel (Higher chance of gaining favor from underground city streets); Voodoo Medium (Particularly effective against Voodooism followers)
Stamina: 1.3/1.3
Intelligence: 1.2/1.3
Spirit: 0.3/0.6
HP: 15/60
EXP: 36/100
Skills: Minstrel Performance (Beginner 30%); Stranger in a Strange Land (Passive 50%); Tactical Dagger Proficiency (Mastered); Compound Creation (Beginner 70%); General Medicine (Intermediate 50%)
Battle Pet: Wild Hound (Level 1 40%)
Status: Debilitated by Severe Illness]
The combined effect of dexamethasone and antibiotics was remarkably potent—his HP had already recovered by 3 points to 15 in this short time.
Looking at these five skills, Wayne felt reluctant to part with any of them, as each was quite valuable.
Currently, the most useful was his General Medicine skill. If necessary, he might have to sacrifice Compound Creation to improve his medical proficiency.
The sky was shrouded in thick lead-gray clouds. The drizzle had just ceased, leaving the air saturated with a bone-chilling dampness. Each icy droplet seemed to have solidified, and the humidity made the perceived temperature even colder.
The rain-darkened streets gleamed, reflecting the blurred outlines of buildings and fleeting car headlights. The air carried mingled scents of coffee and sea breeze.
The closer he got to the tourist district, the more everything took on a bourgeois aesthetic, draped in a beautiful illusion.
It felt completely different from the Chinatown neighborhood Wayne had just left, as if they were two separate cities.
Rumor had it the author of "Beijing Folding" had lived in Seattle, apparently having deeply experienced the city's social stratification before applying that concept to the Eastern Capital.
Passing through various streets and the bustling Pike Place Market, Wayne finally returned to his starting point.
A half-burned tent came into view. The situation was better than Wayne had expected—last night's rain had prevent
ed the fire from spreading too severely.
Pulling his hood tighter, Wayne entered the ruins and began searching through the debris.
[You discovered Voodoo Item Bone Pile]
[You discovered Basic Magical Artifact material: Spirit Bone]