Chapter 35 - 15: [Life Magic Potion Science]

Chapter 35: Chapter 15: [Life Magic Potion Science]

"My older brother was on the ship when it went down in the shipwreck. My parents were crushed by the bankruptcy and the loss of their eldest son," Guard No. 3 said. "Since I didn’t become an Alchemist, I had to learn some Swordsmanship and join the army just to make ends meet, leaving all the enlistment bonus the Imperial Army gave me to my parents. I finally managed to look somewhat presentable after being shaped up by a respectable Centurion, only to be hit by that damn military downsizing."

"I’m forty-eight and still haven’t achieved anything. That’s why I’ve ended up in this shithole, using a spear shaft to poke young people who are just as stupid as I was when I was young. All of this must be because I didn’t study Magic Potion Science hard enough when I was thirteen!"

"Is this what’s in your head every day at work? Zoning out while drafting your memoir, fantasizing about traveling back to your thirteen-year-old self in the Magic Potion Science class at Maxwell Academy?" his colleague, Guard No. 4, asked. "There’s no such thing as a Life Restart Magic Potion in this world. That’s just nonsense made up by Minstrels to beg for meals; it’s not real."

"No, no, no. What I mean is, I recently bought a set of self-study textbooks for Magic Potion Science. It’s never too late to change your life!" Guard No. 3 said. "So, every night after my shift, I’m going to set aside two hours to read these textbooks. I won’t be joining you for drinks tonight. Or ever again, for that matter. I can’t keep numbing myself with alcohol!"

"You’re crazy!" Guard No. 4 offered an objective and pertinent evaluation. "What’s the damn point of studying Magic Potion Science at your age? The Alchemist Association only recruits the top-ranking rookies every year! Right now, there are plenty of Apprentice Alchemists who are younger and smarter than you, trying desperately just to fail the association’s official certification exam. After graduation, they can’t even afford Demonization materials and are reduced to becoming adventurers!"

"I’m not doing it to get the Alchemist Association’s certificate, and I’m not expecting to make money off Magic Potions. I bought those self-study textbooks just to fulfill a deep-seated desire," Guard No. 3 said. "This is my original aspiration. It’s about proving something to my past self, you know? When I was a kid, I truly dreamed of becoming an Alchemist. Even though it’s been so many years and so much has happened, who can really say for sure how life will turn out—"

RING RING RING!

The brass bell fixed above the oak doorframe of the Alliance Hall chimed. It was the signal that the hall was now open.

"Oh, oh, oh! It’s time—" Guard No. 3 and Guard No. 4 scrambled out of the way, lunging to either side of the entrance to clear the path.

The moment the oak doors opened, a surging tide of young adventurers burst through the panels, flooding into the hall like a high-pressure jet of water.

In an instant, the corridors, the commission bulletin boards, and the service counters were packed. The entire Alliance Hall seemed filled with headless flies in a chaotic, deafening uproar. Frantic figures fought over the request slips on the wall before rushing to squeeze into tight throngs at the counters.

Each clerical worker at the counter found themselves besieged by dozens of adventurers. Dozens of slips were shoved aggressively into their faces as everyone talked over each other about their tasks, making their eardrums ring.

"Please line up first!" Miss Lillian Watson struggled to poke a messy tuft of hair up from behind a mountain of papers.

"Everyone, please, one at a time!" another male clerk wailed.

"Line up at the counter! The clerks can only process one task at a time! Anyone who doesn’t line up can get the fuck out!" Guards No. 5 and No. 6 roared. They stepped forward, reversed their spears, and used the blunt shafts to prod the mob of low-level adventurers away from the counters like they were poking pigs in the rump.

"Don’t snatch! Don’t argue! Whoever touches the commission slip first gets priority!" Guard No. 3 bellowed amidst the chaos. "Anyone who starts a fight gets thrown out, too!"

"If you ask me, ’breaking the rules’ should be written into the adventurer’s codex," Guard No. 4 cursed. "In the Ederic Imperial Army, this kind of behavior would get you twenty lashes! They need a good whipping!"

Meanwhile, standing at the entrance of the No. 3 Barracks lobby on Old Wood Street in Luojie City, were two tall figures clad in heavy armor.

They quietly observed the chaos unfolding at the Alliance Hall in the distance.

"Hungry little bugs always wake up remarkably early," Talia chuckled softly. "After all, they live and die in a single day."

"This batch looks like the lowest-level adventurers. Rookies with low ranks—they most likely don’t have a party and are unable to take on difficult, high-reward tasks." Samael gazed at the adventurers at the hall’s entrance. "That’s why they wait outside so early, hoping to snatch up meager single-person low-level tasks just to scrape by. But they’re the starting point of everything. Perhaps Randall used to be like this. Maybe one of these young people will keep learning, just like him, and eventually grow into an excellent intermediate or Advanced Adventurer."

"It’s hard to imagine—your Sewage Worker friend isn’t in there?" Talia asked.

"He shouldn’t be," Samael pondered. "Randall has his own party now and the ability to take on advanced tasks. He shouldn’t need to get up at the crack of dawn to fight over these low-paying solo chores... It’s obviously not worth the effort."

"Then he’s late," Talia noted. "According to the agreed time, the Sewage Worker should have been here by six-thirty. Aren’t we supposed to be teaming up?"

"Maybe something came up and delayed him." Samael sat back down in the lobby, deep in thought.

"How unreliable," Talia huffed.

Yesterday, after they had registered their adventurer identities, Randall Rysk made an appointment with them to meet at the barracks around six-thirty in the morning to form a party and brief them on the mission.

However, it was already seven o’clock, and neither of them had seen a trace of Randall.

"Would you like a cup of tea while you wait for your companion, you two adventurers?" The innkeeper in the lobby of the No. 3 Barracks wiped a wooden cup behind the counter. "Hot tea is always ready, free of charge. Life isn’t easy here, and a sip of tea can at least soothe your throats."

"No need," Talia said.

Samael had no ability to eat or drink whatsoever. Moreover, the two of them needed to conceal their identities, which meant avoiding taking off their helmets as much as possible.

"Uh... no thank you. But we appreciate the offer, ma’am," Samael said politely.

"How about we just go to Randall’s room and check? Isn’t he in Room 301 in the No. 2 Barracks?" he asked Talia in a low voice.

"Excuse me... are you two the Samo Cultivator and the Talan Cultivator?" a voice suddenly called out.

Samael and Talia instinctively turned toward the voice, but there was no one in sight.

"Who... who’s talking?" Samael asked reflexively.

"Um... over here," the voice said.

"Where?" Samael looked around wildly.

The voice let out a long sigh.

"...Down here," she said. "Look down, please look down, you two cultivators."

Samael and Talia lowered their heads.

A short, blonde girl whose height barely reached their elbows was looking up at them, her face a picture of tragic resignation regarding her own stature.

She wore a cloak over Lightweight Leather Armor studded with copper plates and rivets to boost its defense. Her striking blonde hair was neatly trimmed, the ends brushing against her neck, and her light blue eyes were brimming with gloom.

Slung at her waist was a strangely shaped, needle-like rapier; its tip featured injection holes resembling snake fangs. Around her belt hung a circle of leather pouches for Magic Potion reagents, identical in design to Randall’s.

Samael and Talia exchanged a glance and leaned forward slightly, much like adults looking at a child, attempting to make their two-meter frames seem less intimidating.

"This height... Based on our idiot captain’s description, you two must be the Samo Cultivator and the Talan Cultivator, right?" the short blonde girl asked. "I’m Ruby Ellis, the Alchemist in Randall Rysk’s party. I’m a level-one adventurer, and I graduated last year from the Magic Potion Science program at the Ederic Imperial Maxwell Academy."

"Oh, the rookie Alchemist who doesn’t know how to remove Bloodthorn Poison," Talia remarked.

The short blonde girl clutched her chest, looking utterly devastated by the blow.

"Oh, a top student! A limitless future, truly limitless! The new century is the century of Magic Potion Science..." Samael instinctively slapped Talia’s helmet to stop her from dealing further damage, hastily offering a string of pleasantries.

However, something in his words seemed to offend her again. The short blonde girl glared at him, her face twisting into a deep frown of grievance.

"...Uh, sorry about that," Samael said as he realized his mistake. It made sense; if she really had a limitless future, why would she be an adventurer?

"Anyway... something came up with Randall, so I’m here to pick you two up." Standing pitifully with her hands on her hips amidst the two imposing human-shaped shadows, the short blonde girl, Ruby, said, "Everyone in the party is at the public workshop across from the barracks. Follow me."