Click.
The heavy dark-brown doors creaked open, the ornate carvings of unfamiliar floral patterns catching Minori's eye. He didn't recognize the emblem. Most likely, it had once been the crest of a noble household that had long since declined or relocated.
The craftsmanship was delicate and expensive—yet the metal buckles scraped against their leather mounts with a dry, reluctant sound.
It had not been maintained in years.
Despite the impressive appearance, this courtyard had already begun to decay.
—
A man in a black formal suit stepped into view.
Middle-aged, ruddy complexion, eyes calculating.
As soon as his gaze landed on Minori, the impatience in his eyes vanished like mist.He took a quick step forward, bowed slightly, and flashed a courteous smile.
"Good evening, Mr. Minori."
The greeting came preemptively—intended to put him off balance.
Professional. Too professional.
Minori remained calm, unmoved. "You even know my name. Looks like you've done your homework."
Naturally.
Even Imina, the intermediary woman, did not know Minori's real identity.But if someone monitored the flow of potions distributed through her, it wouldn't be difficult to trace it back to the leased courtyard.
"The lease records, was it?" Minori added with a dry chuckle. "I recall registering under an adventurer alias."
The man's expression faltered slightly.
He had expected someone older. More pliable.Not a young alchemist in pure white priest's robes, radiating gentleness yet… guarded.
He adjusted his posture quickly.
"I am called Bert, a pharmacist affiliated with the Herbalist Guild," the man said smoothly. "Our guild is hosting a gathering tonight for prominent figures in the field—"
He leaned slightly to the side, gesturing to a nearby four-wheeled carriage.
"We would be honored if you joined us. Your alchemical potion, while not made from herbs, has created quite a stir. It is a healing agent all the same. Our president insists on your presence."
Minori narrowed his eyes.
"I see," he said, his voice indifferent. "Then I decline."
He turned back toward the door.
He had no time to waste on petty power plays dressed up as polite invitations.Minori was not interested in polite conversation with men who would stab him in the back for a recipe.
—
"Mr. Minori," Bert called out sharply, the veneer of civility cracking. "You'd refuse a mutual opportunity?"
His voice rose slightly, despite himself.
Before the Blood Emperor came to power, men like Bert would have dealt with troublemakers the old-fashioned way—through bribes, threats, or assassination.But now? The emperor encouraged innovation. Dangerous innovation.
Those who made too much noise were swiftly eliminated—not by rivals, but by the throne itself.
The Herb Guild had no choice but to adapt.
—
Bert took a deep breath, adjusting his tone.
"We've noticed your alchemical potions have a limited shelf life. If you lack long-term storage enchantments, we can provide the necessary preservation magic, and… other techniques."
He smiled again, carefully.
"With your talent, once you grasp these methods, your work could reach entirely new heights."
A beat.
"All we ask," he continued smoothly, "is a little technical exchange. Guidance, if you will."
—
Minori stopped. Turned.
He smiled.
Bert's heart lifted—until he heard the reply.
"Still not interested."
—
Whoosh.
Before Bert could react, a sharp sound pierced the air.
A black bone chain burst forth like a viper, coiling around his throat.
Gagging, his feet lifted off the ground, face rapidly turning red from asphyxiation.
A small shadow growled beside Minori—his Bone Evil Hound, eyes glowing crimson. With a twist of its body, it lashed its chain like a whip.
Bert was thrown across the courtyard, smashing into the carriage with a heavy crash.
The horses shrieked, startled, and tore away with the remains of the shattered vehicle.
Screams erupted down the nearby street as the chaos unfolded.
Minori stood there, serene.
"I'm getting better at controlling the bone chains," he murmured, reaching down to scratch his companion behind the ears. The hound purred with delight.
He turned without another glance and shut the heavy door behind him.
Click.
[The Next Day]
As expected, Minori didn't care about the aftermath.This was a world governed by strength, not appearances.
With just a demonstration of third-tier "Angel Summon", he could crush most problems before they ever began.
—
Thanks to Imina's deliberate promotion, news spread like wildfire:
"A mysterious alchemist has created a new potion that cures permanent injuries."
The places hit hardest were the Adventurer's Guild and the Singing Apple Pavilion—haunts of mercenaries and worker teams alike.
The new alchemical potion had three traits that made it beloved:
Cheap (eight copper coins),
Effective for minor and moderate wounds,
Immediately available.
If not for its short shelf life, there would've been a buying frenzy.
—
Of course, that limitation wasn't accidental.
Minori had intentionally diluted the original regenerative compound, trading potency for instability.
This ensured:
Less hoarding by early buyers,
Faster public spread,
Greater demand in the long term.
Yes, storage magic like "Preserve" could extend its viability.But who would waste a daily-cast second-tier spell on an eight-copper item?
Only a fool.
—
While his potion dominated whispers and rumors—
Minori quietly departed the noble courtyard.
He and his Bone Evil Hound blended into the crowd moving along a broad, modern-looking avenue.
The sidewalks were raised, separating foot traffic from horse-drawn carriages.This oddly efficient layout had shocked him when he first arrived in the Baharuth Empire.
In comparison, Re-Estize looked almost medieval.
The Empire had its flaws—but in terms of structure, it was leagues ahead.
—
Minori moved toward the central square, surrounded by the three most prestigious institutions in the capital:
The Imperial Ministry of Magic (directly controlled by Fluder),
The Imperial Magic Academy,
The Imperial Arena.
His destination was the Magic Academy—established during the sixth emperor's reign.
But first, a detour.
[Outside the Imperial Magic Academy – Tea House]
In a modest, quiet café, Minori sat alone with a steaming cup of black tea.
He sipped slowly, waiting.
Moments later, a small figure approached the entrance.
A girl, no older than twelve or thirteen, with shoulder-length golden hair and a slightly hunched posture.She carried an iron staff taller than she was and wore a slightly oversized apprentice's robe.
Alshe.
She paused, scanning the room timidly, then spotted Minori by the window.
He raised a hand in greeting.
The girl approached cautiously.
"Um… hello, sir. Are you the one who submitted the commission?"
Minori gave a small, warm smile.
"That's right. Please, have a seat."
Alshe—one of the four prodigies in the future Workers Team "Foresight."
And among them, the most overlooked.
But Minori wasn't here for her reputation.
She possessed a rare gift: Magic-Eye of Appraisal—the same innate talent that had made Fluder Paradyne a legend.
And Minori—
He had something very specific he needed her to confirm.