Shen Chongxin's hand, holding the syringe, trembled slightly as he cast a sideways glance at the surveillance camera in the ward. His expression remained calm and unreadable.
Approaching the volunteer's bedside, Shen Chongxin began locating the vein for the injection. Once ready, he reached out to pick up the syringe resting on the tray.
At the moment he bent over, his body subtly shifted. The hand holding the syringe pulled back slightly, and in a fluid, practiced motion, a second syringe with orange liquid slipped out from his sleeve, while the one originally in his hand disappeared into it.
The switch was seamless—so precise it resembled a magician's sleight of hand. Anyone familiar with stagecraft would've applauded his execution. The two syringes were identical in appearance, and no one present noticed the exchange.
Having successfully swapped the syringes, Shen Chongxin let out an almost imperceptible sigh of relief. A faint smile flickered on his lips as he administered the injection and returned the altered syringe to the tray.
He completed the injections for the remaining two volunteers without any further tricks, then calmly stepped back and rejoined the research team as if nothing had happened.
No one suspected a thing. All eyes were on the volunteers.
Acura, lying on the bed, focused inward, trying to detect any changes in his body.
He had no way of knowing how the other two were feeling, but his own condition seemed entirely normal—no pain, no discomfort, no noticeable change.
Initially, he had been a bit nervous about participating in a drug trial. But now, without even the expected fatigue or tiredness the researchers had warned him about, he began to wonder if the drug had even worked.
Did they inject me with a placebo? he thought to himself.
"What's going on?"
The abnormality didn't go unnoticed for long.
The other two volunteers had already drifted into sleep from the effects of the drug, but Acura remained alert and awake—clear-eyed and relaxed.
Wu Bing quickly walked over and placed her hand gently on his shoulder. Her brow furrowed.
"Are you feeling any discomfort?"
"No," Acura shook his head.
"No fatigue? No drowsiness? Anything else unusual?" Wu Bing pressed.
The other volunteers had reacted exactly as expected—just like during the previous trial. But Acura's lack of symptoms stood out like a red flag. Everyone present turned their attention to him, observing with concern.
"I feel completely fine," Acura said, puzzled. "Just like before the injection."
"This is odd," Wu Bing muttered, glancing between him and the others.
The injection timeline made it even stranger—Acura had been dosed first. There was no reason he shouldn't have been affected the same way.
"Let's keep observing for now. Have the team begin a basic physical exam. Once the effects wear off, we'll run full tests and determine what's going on."
At least there were no immediate side effects. That alone was reassuring. If the drug simply failed to take effect, that was manageable. But if there were adverse reactions, the experiment would have to be halted entirely.
The air in the room grew tense. Everyone was on edge. This was the first time anything had deviated from expectations.
Five minutes passed. Physical checks confirmed that Acura was in stable condition. Still, the lack of drug response had everyone concerned.
As time dragged on, anticipation grew heavy in the air. Over two hours later, the other two volunteers began to stir, the drug's effects wearing off. They slowly regained consciousness.
"His data isn't showing much deviation," reported the technician monitoring the instruments. "The other two show significant biological changes."
The one he referred to was, of course, Acura.
The moment he said it, a chill ran through the room.
Something's wrong.
"Schedule full physical exams immediately," Wu Bing instructed.
The volunteers were escorted to the medical wing, accompanied by R&D staff and security. The data was inconclusive—only full diagnostics could confirm the situation.
As the group followed the three volunteers, watching their every move, Shen Chongxin quietly stepped aside.
"I'm heading to the restroom. If anything comes up, I'll be back in two minutes," he said to Liu Liwen.
Once inside, Shen Chongxin exhaled deeply and quickly pulled the used syringe from his sleeve. He stared at it for a moment, hesitation and anticipation flickering in his eyes. Then he took out a pen from his pocket and injected the orange liquid into the ink refill.
Satisfied, he flushed the empty syringe down the toilet. After confirming it was gone, he composed himself and stepped out, a subtle smile on his lips.
Everyone else remained preoccupied, focused on the three volunteers and the unusual test result. No one had noticed anything amiss with him.
"Any updates?" he whispered to Liu Liwen as he returned to the group.
"Not yet. Still waiting on results," she replied quietly.
Thankfully, there had been no allergic reactions or visible symptoms from the volunteers. That gave everyone some peace of mind, even if they remained puzzled by Acura's lack of response.
In the corner of the lab, Chen Mo narrowed his eyes for a moment, sensing something odd. He caught Shen Chongxin quickly averting his gaze. His brows twitched slightly, but he said nothing and turned his attention back to the monitoring data.
As the drug's developer, Chen Mo was among the core personnel for this trial. The drug's synthesis and purification had been demonstrated to the team, and today was the second human trial. If successful, more would follow, leading to eventual independent production by the research institute.
He wasn't too worried. According to the Library's technology, the drug had no harmful side effects.
Finally, two hours later, the physical exams were complete. The results were handed to the research leads.
Volunteers No. 3 and No. 4 showed the expected enhancements—increased cellular activity, greater bone density, improved strength and speed.
But Volunteer No. 2—Acura—displayed no significant changes at all.