“I wasn't expecting you, Sir Ratra,” Kishan said when Nox walked into Ratra's Knightly Brews. The store was just as busy as when he last visited it. “Will you be taking over for her during the weekly visits?”

“Not quite,” Nox replied. “She is a tad busy with an influx of contraceptive orders from the Imperium. I volunteered to take care of her responsibilities since I have some time on my hands.”

Nox liked and trusted Kishan. Alongside Aisha, he was the first alchemist he hired for the business. The man proved so skilled and reliable that he had left him with the running of the company's first store. Mou visited weekly to review stock, do quality control, look through the books, and deal with any financial issues. The store no longer sold cosmetics, only general alchemical supplies and contraceptives. The latter and all empowering concoctions came from the Galleria. Kishan and his assistants brewed the rest in-house. It still saw plenty of foot traffic because of the proximity To the university's main gates and neighboring businesses that catered to delvers not affiliated with the university.

“Also, Mou claimed we're not using your talents well. Apparently, you have your staff working so efficiently that you're only using half the workshop. So, I was hoping you'd be willing to take on a couple of more projects.” Nox peeked into his old office as they descended into the basement. As expected, the brewing station was inactive and covered in dust. “Do note that your willingness and performance might come with greater annual raises and bonuses than the last.”

Kishan’s eyes lit up at the mention of more money. His family currently resided in the building's top floor—Nox's old accommodation. The Daksinsthani man has already received above-average compensation and perks for his position.

“I'll admit that my staff is a tad bored, but it all depends on the magnitude of the project and responsibilities,” Kishan replied. “I don't want to take on too much and burn them out.”

“Hopefully, that won't be the case. I'd like you to take on a part of the business’ Sterilizing Fluid production.” Nox pulled out his notebook and showed Kishan the amount they produced. It also had a breakdown of the volume going to the city and the university’s many departments. “As you can see, the city currently receives a third of our total production. Do you think your workshop can manage that?”

“That's not as bad as I was expecting.” Kishan took the notebook and looked over the ingredients and recipes. “I don't think we'll have any trouble as long as we get the materials here and don't have to fetch them from the Galleria.”

“That won't happen again.” Because of supplier confusion following the Galleria's opening, there was a brief period of all materials going to the wrong venue. Kishan and his staff received a lot of grief from customers because of late deliveries. “I'm glad you think this is manageable and within your capabilities.”

“Oh, no.”

“Because I was hoping you'd take on something else for me.”

“This will already push the staff close to capacity, Sir Ratra,” Kishan said. “I'll need some time to figure this out, train the staff, and work it into our regular routine.”

“I don't think that will be a problem,” Nox said. “This will be more of a personal project for you. How do you feel about going into product development? Refinement, to be more precise.”

Kishan paused. He raised his eyebrows. The question appeared to have caught him off guard. Kishan volunteered to assist in product development when Nox was still working out of the old building. Because of competitors and moles in the business, Nox had rejected the offer and did it all by himself.

“I'm certainly intrigued and flattered you trust me with such responsibility.”

“Consider it a test. This will involve refining an already patented product. If you prove capable and trustworthy, I'll give you more projects. You'll receive credit for all creations and developments. All patents will belong to the business, and you will receive a tenth of all profits.”

“That's incredibly generous. It would mean a lot to my family and me.” Kishan nodded, smiling. “Whatever the project is, I'll give it my best shot.”

“I'm happy to hear that.” Nox fished a vial of Trap Foam out of his pocket and placed it on an inactive workstation. The product had grown popular amongst local delvers and magic beast hunters. Kishan had already produced the concoction in his workshop and sold it in the store. “I want this miniaturized and sold as a solid pellet. My laboratory is full, and I don't have time for the project. Do you think you can do it?”

“It will take a lot of research, experimentation, and resources, but I don't see why not,” Kishan answered after taking a moment to think about it. “How big were you thinking?”

Nox manifested his mana gauntlet. He pointed at the hole near his elbow. “Small enough to fit in here and come out of the barrel.”

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

“So it needs to be stable enough to not explode when exposed to a mana charge.” The journeyman alchemist grabbed a parchment and took quick notes. He almost perfectly approximated the size of both openings. “It needs to travel with the charge as well and only explode on impact.”

“That's correct,” Nox said. “I'll give you a starting research and development fund of two hundred gold. You'll need to provide research notes, receipts, and progress reports once a month. Is that acceptable?”

Kishan nodded.

An ear-piercing scream followed by several panicked yells interrupted the conversation. Both men exchanged concerned glances before racing up the stairs. The sound had come from just outside the building. The staff had gathered around the open side entrance. The door faced the tailors next door. Kishan and Nox didn't just have to push past them, but the growing crowd of pedestrians outside.

They found a blood bath. A partially dismembered body lay in the alley, running behind the neighboring buildings. It was parallel to the main market street. Karen Taylor, the neighboring business’ proprietor, sat at her backdoor wide-eyed, pale, and clutching the bleeding stump of her right forearm.

“Do we have any sterilizing brews in stock?” Nox asked.

“Just enough for a collection later today,” Kishan answered. “We're due a restocking delivery tomorrow.”

“Grab a couple of vials.”

“It's for the healers in Nobles Quarter.”

“I'm sure they'll understand.”

Nox usually carried the concoction in the pouch hanging from his belt. Unfortunately, he used his to clean a classmate's wound in Advanced Dungeon Combat and forgot to restock it. He still had several healing and stamina recovery pills and got to work straight away.

“I need you aware for this, Mrs Taylor,” Nox said, removing the woman’s hand from her stump. Blood streamed from the wound. Her sobbing daughter had brought several shards of cloth to stem the bleeding. He took a narrow, long piece and used it for a tourniquet. Nox didn’t tighten it all the way. Instead, he put the long end in the woman’s bloody free hand. “You need to decide how tight feels right.”

Using the woman’s input had two purposes. Michelle Beaufort had taught him that overtightened tourniquets often had an adverse effect. Besides, he hoped her participation in the emergency treatment would keep her conscious. Nox’s frustration grew as he tried to clean the wounds, but shadows got in his way.

“Somebody get the guards and make these morons back off!” He yelled. “Crowding around won’t save this woman’s life. Give her air and summon the healers!”

Only half the curious onlookers listened, but it was more than he had hoped. The rest grumbled and continued taking in the morbid scene. Once Kishan returned with the requested concoction, he poured it over the stump. Mrs Talyor didn’t say anything but winced. Nox considered a positive, assuming it meant he hadn’t lost her shock just yet. Next, he destabilized a healing pill’s essence glass shell and let the liquifying contents drip onto the wound.

The bleeding stopped straight away. When he held healing and stamina pills to her mouth, Mrs Taylor swallowed both. Color returned to her face almost instantly, and she took a proper breath. The woman shuddered, trying to backpedal from the gory scene in front of her.

“Can you tell me what happened, Mrs Taylor?” Nox asked. He got a half-coherent story in response.

Mrs. Taylor had not long finished her final sales for the day and was in the middle of her closing duties. It was a day when everything that could possibly go wrong went wrong. One of her laundry girls hadn’t shown up in a week or sent any messages, leaving the staff short-staffed. If that wasn’t bad enough, the drains in her laundrette were clogged, causing a major overflow. So, she wanted to help them by emptying the dirty water out through the backdoor.

A grotesque scene awaited her. She walked into a figure draped in flowing crimson and black robes. When Mrs Taylor opened the door, they had already spread the body parts in a curious pattern and was in the middle of painting odd symbols in blood. At first, she intended to retreat in silence. Then she recognized the remains. It was her missing employee. Mrs Taylor screamed, and the hooded perpetrator came at her with magic. She lacked the know-how to identify or accurately describe it. All Nox got out of her was that it was a blade. Fortunately, her cry summoned her employees and people off the street. The murderer’s attack fortunately only got her arm before they fled.

The healers and guards arrived within seconds. The former thanked Nox for the emergency care before treating Mrs Taylor. The guard wanted to question her, but the healing spells knocked her unconscious. So, Nox relayed everything he had learned. The lack of descriptions frustrated them. Apparently, all witnesses for ritual crimes thus far had told them the same about the perpetrator. They also expressed concern since the crimes were no longer limited to the city’s outer sections. They had hoped the incident in Market Ring four weeks prior was an isolated incident. Unfortunately, that was no longer the case.

Following Nox’s insistence, the guards summoned city workers in charge of maintaining the sanitation system. They eased the grates of the storm drains and let the guards into the sewers. After thirty minutes of searching the sewers, they emerged with a pile of dirty, ripped clothing and clumps of long hair. Blood stains covered the first. The latter had pieces of scalp still attached to them. They found a few fingers, too. The blockage appeared recent, and the workers claimed to have cleaned the area only four weeks prior.

The crowd’s curiosity turned into horror as they saw the gore, and the consequences of the discovery sunk in. The Market Ring’s residents liked separating themselves from the troubles of the city’s lesser residents. They enjoyed gossiping about prostitutes, paupers, and gang members dying in mysterious circumstances. However, it didn’t sound like they cared.

If Nox were to be honest, he didn’t care either. Joey was the only person he knew who truly cared about the matter. He had dedicated the past several months to investigating the very issue that had now reached them. The urgency of the issue sunk in, and the people around them had no choice but to accept the gravity of the matter. The ritual murders were no longer a topic of morbid curiosity. It had arrived at their doorsteps.

“No one is safe.” Nox heard a guard tell his friends. “Keep your wives, daughters, and sisters indoors after dark. They won’t like it. They’ll complain. But I’d rather put up with their whining and rage than see them like this. Wouldn’t you?”