Illegal Medicine

This afternoon, Jorgen arrived in the Canal District. Henrik had once followed his father to a members-only club called the Red Lizard in this area. When Holmyr disappeared into the building, Henrik felt he could meet Gythra soon if he entered, but courage failed him.

Returning home late last night, Dalia was already asleep. Jorgen thought that if she were awake, he might not immediately mention the matters with Elin and Lindy. For no clear reason, he just felt it wasn't the right time. What wasn't the right time? — Not the "settling down" itself, but the expectations around it. Jorgen wasn't ready to live with such expectations. However, just as he was about to use this as a reason to convince himself, he suddenly considered that Dalia might not feel the same. Asleep beside him, even with a tired face, her fingers on the pillow would occasionally move. Jorgen recalled that the kiss that initiated everything wasn't because he felt it was the "right time." He hoped her eyes could regain their sparkle. Refusing these expectations only because of his doubts wouldn't improve Dalia's mood. In many cases, people who think "wait until the right time" aren't truly waiting for a well-prepared opportunity but are finding excuses for their rejection. Jorgen knew he wasn't that kind of person during investigations and couldn't tolerate becoming one while with Dalia.

Jorgen accepted this conclusion: his doubts were more about hesitation than the vigilance of a Seven agent. Regardless of whether this conclusion was absolutely correct, he had to accept it. Revealing his own mistakes was the only way to truly consider her. He planned to respond proactively to these doubts, and investigating Henrik's request today was one step in that process.

On the entire road to the Red Lizard Club, Jorgen entered every pharmacy along the way, showing a prescription he found in Holmyr's room. Although it was a properly printed prescription, the drug names were replaced by seemingly meaningless codes, and it didn't mention which pharmacy it was from. Finding a second similar one under the wardrobe, Jorgen showed them to Henrik, who confirmed never seeing these before.

"Is it possible he's buying some unconventional remedies for himself?" Jorgen asked.

"Absolutely not," Henrik said. "Father is stubborn about this. He believes the best way to cure illnesses is through prayers to the Holy Light, a vegetarian diet, and long cold baths. If he had agreed to go to the hospital from the start, the situation wouldn't have deteriorated so quickly. I've never seen these things before. Do you think he bought them for someone else?"

"You mean Gythra? Uncertain. But I need to take this prescription with me."

Jorgen questioned clerks in six pharmacies, and five brought their managers, all denying having issued such prescriptions. From the puzzled looks when they saw the prescriptions, Jorgen believed no one was lying. Arriving at the address of the Red Lizard Club, he found the entrance quite hidden, requiring descending stairs below road level to see. There was only a house number, no other signage. Jorgen stood at the stairs for a moment, looking across the street, where there was another neat and spacious pharmacy. He crossed the street and entered.

"Hello, how can I help you?" the female clerk greeted him with a smile.

"I'd like to ask," Jorgen placed the prescription on the counter, pressing it with his index finger, "is this prescription from this store?"

The clerk looked down and said, "No... I can't understand what's written here."

She shook her head and apologized to Jorgen.

It was the same very natural reaction.

"Is the store manager here?"

"He should be in the warehouse, a street away from here. What's the matter?"

"I'll come back later."

Holding the prescription in his hand, Jorgen turned to leave when he noticed a middle-aged man behind the opposite counter, his gaze fixed on Jorgen's hand. Jorgen halted and walked towards him. The man immediately averted his eyes.

"Do you recognize this?"

"What?" the man said.

"This sheet. The prescription."

"I don't know what that is."

"You were staring at it."

"And who are you? This is a reputable store, and we only welcome legitimate customers. If you keep this up, I'll have to ask you to leave."

Jorgen displayed his badge, something he shouldn't have done, leveraging his detective status for personal matters.

"You..." The man frowned but didn't look at Jorgen. Instead, he lowered his head, cleared his throat.

"What's going on?" the female clerk said.

"Mind your own business," the man said to the clerk, then brought his head closer to Jorgen, almost chin to chest, eyes rolling upward, his lowered tone filled with anxiety. "Am I under arrest?"

"Not yet," Jorgen said. "It depends on what you have to tell me. To avoid such a situation, I advise you not to lie in the first place."

The man took a breath and said, "Come inside." He walked out from behind the counter, instructed the female clerk to watch the store, then led Jorgen through a door at the back of the room and closed it behind them.

"I issued that prescription."

"Good, you confessed quickly. Continue."

"You must believe me; it's not something harmful. Just medicine. You see, we're a reputable pharmacy, and the manager has high standards for legitimate sources. This is good medicine, just lacking approval to be on the market, so I had to keep it from him."

"What is it for?"

"Heart issues."

"Specifically, what kind of heart problem?"

The man made a complaining murmuring sound and then said, "You see, didn't I say this medicine hasn't been approved yet? But it really works for various conditions. Otherwise..."

"Otherwise, you wouldn't be able to make money from it?"

"If you put it that way, yes."

"This medicine isn't expensive compared to properly approved heart treatment drugs."

"Yeah, not expensive at all. Cheap, effective, and I risk my job promoting it, all for those with heart problems who can't afford the exorbitant treatment fees."

Jorgen slapped him across the face. The man hadn't reacted yet when he received a second slap.

"What are you doing?"

"Knocking some sense into you. The stuff you're selling at most has temporary effectiveness. Coupled with its low price, it's easily embraced by the common folk, but they don't know it can't cure them. I've dealt with similar cases more than once. Trafficking black-market drugs, if it's severe, can lead to the death penalty. Do you want to die?"

"No, I don't."

"Then answer honestly. Is the situation really as I described?"

"More or less. It does work, genuinely treats the heart, and it's not harmful. I'm not lying to you. Otherwise, there wouldn't be repeat customers. If you don't believe me, I can give you two bottles to check, there's definitely nothing wrong."

"That's not necessary. What concerns me more is whether you have a customer named Holmyr Stone."

"I don't register names, just faces. Besides, they mostly won't tell me their real names."

"He's tall, in his fifties, dark-skinned, a blacksmith. You should be able to see many scars on his hands, common among blacksmiths. Ring a bell?"

"Yes, there is such a person. But I haven't seen him for several months. He's a big customer, buying continuously for over a year."

"Did he mention who he was buying for?"

"I usually don't ask, and he's not much of a talker."

"Do you know anything else about him?"

"Besides never having credit, not much."

"Think carefully. Did you see him with anyone?"

"He always came alone. Oh, a few times I saw him leave the shop, cross the street, and head down those stairs. I heard it's some kind of club, but I've never been."

"Clearly, you must be very busy."

Jorgen turned to leave, but the man said, "Wait... Is that Holmyr you mentioned connected to my medicine somehow?"

"He's not well. Whether it's because of those drugs or not, we'll know soon. Suspend your transactions for now, or be ready to spend a night in a cell. And one more thing, don't tell anyone about this. Can you keep it from the woman outside?"

"Don't worry, she's just a new employee, wouldn't dare say anything to the manager. I haven't committed any crime, have I?"

Jorgen didn't respond and walked out of the store. Holmyr Stone, a stubborn man who believed in prayers and cold baths to ward off illness, refusing conventional medicine, buying drugs on the black market for his lover. There was nothing abnormal about it. Perhaps Gythra was an unbeliever, and Holmyr had to accept it; or maybe deep down, he understood that relying solely on religious methods wouldn't bring real healing. He hoped for his lover's recovery but couldn't entirely abandon his faith, so he chose a compromise: buying readily effective black-market drugs instead of taking her to a proper hospital. For him, these pills passed under the counter eased the conflict between his faith and reality. He didn't know these drugs couldn't completely eradicate the root of the illness, but as long as they could give him that hope, it was enough.

Drawing these conclusions might be a bit premature before understanding more about Gythra. Jorgen crossed the street and headed towards the Red Lizard Club.