NOVEL WEB Chapter 36: The Deal
Commercial Zone – Agnes' Cottage
The air inside Agnes' alchemy shop was thick with the sharp tang of herbs and the faint metallic hum of enchanted tools. Shelves lined the walls, crammed with jars of glowing powders, vials of shimmering liquids, and bundles of dried plants that pulsed faintly with mana. The shop was a cozy, cluttered haven, tucked away from the glitz of Golden Street, its wooden counter scarred from years of spills and experiments. Agnes leaned against it, her dark hair tied back loosely, the burn-like scar on her neck peeking out from her collar. Her sharp eyes studied Edwyn, who stood before her with his usual cocky grin, his dark robes slightly askew, as if he'd just rolled out of a fight or a party, or both.
"Lending you a hundred Mana Stones? Sure, I can swing that," Agnes said, her voice laced with skepticism. "But a premium Focus Oil? That's not pocket change, Edwyn. Why the hell do you need something that fancy?" She crossed her arms, one eyebrow arched, clearly trying to figure out what her junior apprentice was scheming.
Edwyn cleared his throat, his grin widening as he leaned forward, one hand casually braced on the counter.
"Alright, Agnes, here's the deal," he said, his tone smooth but brimming with mischief. "I've been neck-deep in Focus Oil studies, trying to crack Joron's formula. Figured a top-shelf potion from the commercial zone might give me a nudge. You know, spark some genius in this thick skull of mine." He tapped his temple with a theatrical wink.
Agnes rolled her eyes so hard it was practically audible. "Inspiration? Seriously? Alchemy's about grinding through practice and study, not chasing some mystical 'spark.' You sound like a poet, not a Mage." Despite her words, she turned and disappeared into the back room, her footsteps muffled by the creaky wooden floor. Moments later, she returned, holding a 100ml bottle of light-blue potion that shimmered like liquid starlight. The glass was etched with faint runes, a mark of its premium quality.
"Here it is," she said, dangling it in front of him, her lips curling into a sly smile. "Premium-grade Focus Oil. Sells for thirty Mana Stones in the shops. I got this secondhand, so it cost me double. What's a fair price for you, kid?"
Edwyn's grin faltered for a split second, his eyes flicking to the potion. His pouch was light, too light for this kind of splurge. He scratched the back of his neck, playing up the hesitation. "Uh… damn, Agnes, you're really putting me on the spot here. That's some high-end stuff."
Agnes smirked, reaching out to tap his forehead with a finger. "Finally getting serious, huh? This stuff's like gold in the academy. One bottle a month on the market is a miracle. You couldn't buy it with just Mana Stones if you tried." She tilted her head, her tone teasing but her eyes sharp. "So, what's it gonna be? You begging for a handout yet?"
Edwyn's grin snapped back, all teeth and bravado. "Handout? Come on, Agnes, you know I'm too pretty to beg. You gonna gift it to me out of the goodness of your heart?" He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a playful drawl. "I'll write you a song or something. Ode to Agnes, Queen of Potions."
"Keep dreaming, kid," Agnes shot back, her glare half-hearted. Her cheeks flushed faintly, betraying her amusement. "This is a loan. You want it? You owe me two bottles of premium Focus Oil when you figure out how to brew them yourself. Deal?"
Edwyn's eyes lit up, his grin practically splitting his face. "Hell yeah, deal! Agnes, you're a saint!" He snatched the bottle, holding it up to the light like a trophy. "Two bottles, coming right up. And just for the record, you're the best damn senior I've got."
Agnes's flush deepened, but she waved him off, trying to hide her smile. "Get outta here before I change my mind and demand three bottles. Go brew something and stop sweet-talking me."
Edwyn laughed, tossing her a mock salute as he sauntered out of the shop, the potion bottle tucked safely in his robe. "Catch you later, boss. Don't spend all my future profits while I'm gone!"
---
Dormitory Tower
Back in his dorm, Edwyn's room was a controlled chaos of alchemical gear. The desk was a battlefield of glass beakers, rune-etched tools, and scattered notes, all bathed in the soft glow of a mana lamp.
The crate from Seven Luminaries sat open, its contents meticulously organized, vials of glowing extracts, bundles of Focus Grass, and chunks of Blackbone Stone. Edwyn set the premium Focus Oil bottle on the desk, its light-blue shimmer casting faint reflections on the walls.
"Time to work," he muttered, activating the Infinite Forge, a palm-sized orb that pulsed with arcane energy. He placed the Focus Oil inside, and the orb hummed, projecting a shimmering interface into his mind.
[Material: Premium Focus Oil]
[Extractable Skill: Potion Brewing – Fragmented]
[Extraction Cost: 10 Spiritforce]
[Extractable Info: Focus Oil Formula]
[Extraction Cost: 10 Spiritforce]
[Proceed with Extraction?]
Edwyn's eyes widened.
"Wait, I can pull the formula too? Oh, this is too good." His mind raced with possibilities. If he could extract formulas from any potion on the market, he'd have a treasure trove of knowledge at his fingertips. Sure, selling stolen formulas was a one-way ticket to exile, Joron wouldn't lift a finger to save him from that mess, but using them for himself? That was fair game.
"Grab a bottle, crack the code, brew it myself. That's the kind of hustle I'm talking about."
He chose the brewing technique, his 23 Spiritforce more than enough to handle the cost. A faint dizziness hit as the orb drained his energy, but it passed quickly. A glowing orb of knowledge emerged, hovering before him like a miniature star. Edwyn reached out, letting it sink into his mind. The sensation was electric, his thoughts sharpened, his hands steadied, and every material on his desk suddenly felt… alive. Gastrodia Fruit, White Rhino Horn, Blackbone Stone, they were no longer just ingredients; they were clay, ready to be shaped by his will. He could feel their textures, their properties, as if he'd been brewing for years.
"Holy shit," Edwyn breathed, shaking his head. "The skill of a Mage? That's some next-level voodoo." He flexed his fingers, grinning like a kid who'd just stolen the keys to a candy store. "Alright, let's see what I can do with this."
He dove into the potion-making, his hands moving with a fluidity that felt almost supernatural.
Crushing Gastrodia Fruit, sieving Sunlime extract, grinding Rhino Horn, each step was instinctive, his fingers dancing over the tools like a gunslinger twirling pistols. The cauldron hummed as he poured in mana, the runes glowing brighter with each addition. Failures still happened, potion-making was a beast that didn't care about talent, but now, every misstep was a lesson. Edwyn documented everything, his notes meticulous, a stark contrast to Joron's vague "roughly this" and "about that" instructions. To him, the low success rate of potions came from sloppy recipes, and he was determined to fix that.
---
One Month Later – Agnes' Cottage
Agnes stood behind her counter, her jaw practically on the floor as she stared at the wooden box Edwyn had plopped in front of her. Inside were 46 bottles of Focus Oil, their light-blue contents shimmering like captured moonlight. The shop's air felt heavier, the scent of the potions mingling with the usual herbal tang, and Agnes's mind reeled.
"These… you're telling me you made all of these?" she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief. "In a month?"
Edwyn leaned against the counter, his grin smug but playful, his red hair falling into his eyes.
"What, you doubting my skills, Agnes? Come on, I thought you had faith in me."
Agnes blinked, shaking her head as if trying to dispel an illusion. This has to be a trick. I must've botched my meditation this morning, 'cause there's no way my junior apprentice, who was fumbling with potions a month ago, is standing here with a damn box of Focus Oils.
She picked up a bottle, holding it to the light, her eyes narrowing as she inspected it. "These are premium-grade. No flaws. How the hell…?"
Edwyn shrugged, his grin widening. "Just put in some elbow grease, you know? Threw myself into it, and boom, potions." He tapped the box, his voice casual but his eyes gleaming with pride. "I'm putting these on consignment with you. You cool with that, or you gonna keep staring like I just grew a second head?"
Agnes snapped out of her daze, her lips twitching into a reluctant smile. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine with it." She set the bottle down, her tone cautious as she asked, "How many times did you fail? The hundred Mana Stones I lent you couldn't have covered all this, right?" A guilty flicker crossed her mind, she almost hoped he'd crashed and burned a few times, just to feel less outclassed.
Edwyn's grin turned sheepish, a calculated act to downplay his success. "Oh, I failed plenty. Success rate's about one in two, give or take." He scratched the back of his neck, playing the humble novice. Joron's records showed even the weakest of his students hit a two-thirds success rate, so Edwyn figured fifty percent sounded believable for a "beginner."
Agnes's eyes widened, her voice rising to a near-shout. "Half? Are you kidding me?" She gripped the counter, her knuckles whitening. "Most beginners are lucky to hit one in ten. One in five is talented. But fifty percent? As a newbie? Edwyn, I…" She trailed off, speechless, her mind spinning. She'd thought Edwyn's talent was limited to gear-crafting, like hers. But this? This is unreal."
Edwyn chuckled, leaning back with a cocky grin, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Unreal, huh? Guess I'm just unreal good, then." He winked. "Seriously, though, Agnes, it's not that crazy. Joron's notes said even his worst student was pulling better numbers than me. I'm just scraping by."
Agnes took a deep breath, her composure barely holding as she glared at him. "Edwyn, you don't get it. Joron's trained hundreds of apprentices. The ones who make it into his records? They're the best of the best. Legends. And you're out here acting like a fifty percent success rate is no big deal?" She shook her head, muttering, "You're a damn monster."
Edwyn's grin didn't waver, but he felt a twinge of panic. Okay, maybe I played that a bit too cool.
He laughed, leaning into the bravado. "Hey, come on, I'm just a guy trying to keep up with the big shots. Gotta start somewhere, right?"
He was done hiding his edge. If they wanted to call him a genius, fine, he'd brewed those potions fair and square, and he could do it again in front of anyone. Besides, in a place crawling with prodigies, a transmigrator like him wasn't that special. Or so he hoped.
Agnes pointed a finger at him, her voice sharp but tinged with grudging respect. "Don't get cocky, kid. Talent's a dime a dozen around here. You wanna be a real Arch-Mage? That takes more than a hot streak." She softened slightly, her eyes flicking to the box of potions. "But… damn, you're off to a hell of a start."
Edwyn shot her a playful salute. "Noted, boss. I'll keep my ego in check."
Agnes counted the 46 bottles, her fingers moving carefully as if she still couldn't believe it. At five Mana Stones each, that was 230 Mana Stones' worth of product. Minus the cost of materials, Edwyn was walking away with 130 stones in pure profit, and that was after holding some bottles back.
"I'm not taking a cut this time," she said, sliding a heavy pouch across the counter. "Focus Oil sell like hotcakes. I'll pay you up front, 130 stones. Now go get some rest. You must be wiped after a month of this madness."
Edwyn took the pouch, his heart warming at her gesture. "Rest? Nah, I'm just getting started." He flashed a grin, tossing the pouch lightly in his hand.
Rest? Not now.
He had money.
And money is meant to be spent.