Mr. F walked home with a cheerful spring in his step, twirling a gold coin between his fingers and whistling a tune. He didn't know where the melody came from, but at that moment, all he could think about was the gold now safely stashed in his spatial pouch.
To avoid the arrest of his son, Levi had to dig deep into his coffers. He ended up paying Mr. F a hefty sum of 10,000 gold coins. Even Captain Markus eventually intervened, telling Mr. F that 10,000 gold coins should suffice.
Mr. F almost wished for a hot-headed weakling to attack him every day. If that happened, he could abandon alchemy altogether and just buy every elixir he desired.
And so, as he strolled through the streets in the dead of night, a cheerful tune echoed through the quiet town.
…
Meanwhile, at the Daplumsebecken estate, the family had just returned home and stepped through the door. As it closed, Daimen tried to speak, "Father, please listen to me…"
But before he could finish his sentence, Levi struck him down with a fist. One punch followed another, and then another. A flurry of blows turned Daimen's face into a swollen mess, resembling a puffed-up pufferfish.
It wasn't until Daimen lay unconscious on the floor that his mother intervened. "Dear, he inherited your temper. Though he is a fool, he is at least a loyal fool to the family."
Levi's anger subsided slightly, and he called for the servants. "Take Daimen to his bed, but I forbid anyone from giving him a healing potion. If I find out someone has disobeyed me, they will hang." He said this last part with a dark aura that sent shivers down the spines of the servants. However, they were already accustomed to his temper, so no one dared to make any attempts to help the young master.
Levi then turned to his daughter, his expression stern. "And now, as for you," he began. "How foolish must one be to send her Tier 5 brother against a Tier 6 mage? What have I taught you over the past ten years? Why do you never listen to my teachings and only do as you please?"
"Had you done what you were supposed to, we could have dealt with that old man from the shadows. But your stupidity has now alerted him, and he will be expecting retaliation. You've made it much harder and more expensive to kill him."
Tears welled up in Elisabeth's eyes, streaming down her cheeks. She knew deep down that she had been in the wrong, but her emotions had gotten the better of her.
"Elisabeth," her father said, his tone softening, "do you know why we are nobles?" Elisabeth was momentarily confused, but she replied, "Because Grandpa is strong?"
"Wrong!" Levi snapped. "It's because the descendants of our family are strong. Every woman who marries into our family gives birth to children with our special Physique."
"By channeling our emotions into our magic, we can increase the power of our attacks. We are a strategic asset, one that is only valuable as long as we are useful to the royal family. Remember this—if our family ever causes more trouble than it brings benefits to the crown, they will eliminate us."
"As long as your grandfather lives, this won't happen. But one day, your mother and I will be gone. It will be up to you and your brother to make wise and foresighted decisions for the family. So reflect on what happened today and learn from your mistakes."
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A quiet "Yes, Father," escaped Elisabeth's lips before she turned and headed to her room.
Levi's wife, who had been observing silently, approached him from behind and wrapped her arms around him. "You were too harsh on them," she said softly.
Levi turned to look into his wife's eyes. "I know, but I have to be firm with them if I want to ensure the survival of our family."
"Anton, come to me," Levi called out into the now-empty entrance hall.
From the shadows, a man emerged. "You called, Master?"
Levi tossed the recording of the fight to him and spoke. "Find out who the man in this video is. I want to know which family he belongs to and if there will be any complications if we decide to eliminate him."
"As you wish, Master," Anton replied before disappearing back into the shadows.
…
The next morning, Mr. F woke up later than usual. Having completed his original mission, he decided to reward himself with a late start to the day after the long night.
He headed to the materials distribution office, expecting to receive a new assignment. He assumed he would be tasked with making more mana burn potions, which could be a good source of income for the family if he could maintain a high success rate.
However, at the distribution office, he was told to report to Matilda personally. Mr. F wondered if she was plotting something against him again, but he decided to face the situation head-on.
Before heading to see Matilda, he inquired about potions with unstable liquids.
Indeed, there was one called the "Mini Nitro Bomb," a potion that caused a powerful explosion within a four-meter radius upon impact. It was also a Tier 4 potion.
But the cost… all potions of Tier 4 and above required work points. Since he hadn't been working for the family long, he hadn't accumulated many of these points and couldn't afford it just yet.
Still, he resolved to work towards it. Depending on the assignments, he should be able to gather enough points within the next few weeks.
With that goal in mind, he made his way to Matilda's lab, stopping in front of the familiar door.
He knocked, and the door opened almost immediately. "You're late," Matilda said, returning to her desk.
Mr. F closed the door behind him and sat down across from her. Only the desk separated them.
"I had a long night and decided to sleep in a bit longer," Mr. F responded nonchalantly.
Matilda felt a surge of irritation as she heard his half-hearted excuse. She didn't know why, but every time she spoke with him, she found herself getting easily annoyed.
"Listen carefully. There are very few alchemists among us who can produce Tier 5 elixirs. I could count them all on one hand. I want to know if you believe you can be one of them. After observing your work over the past few days, I'm convinced you have great talent in alchemy. However, I'm also aware that your skills have grown rusty and that you need time to regain them. I want your honest assessment—how far can you go?"
Mr. F was surprised by her direct approach. It seemed Matilda now trusted him and wanted him to become a core member of the inner circle.
However, he was uncertain about how much he wanted to reveal. Matilda noticed his hesitation and decided to sweeten the deal.
"Do you remember the life-extending elixir I showed you during our second meeting? I'd be willing to give you one that extends your lifespan by a year in exchange for six months of your service, during which you would produce Tier 5 elixirs for us."
Matilda was confident that this offer was mutually beneficial, but Mr. F's response shocked her.
"To be honest, I'm no longer interested in such elixirs." Matilda was stunned. What did he mean by that? Had he found another source for these elixirs?
Mr. F continued, "But there is something that could be more useful to me." Matilda leaned in, intrigued.
"I want a significant amount of work points and a substantial advance for private use."
Matilda was taken aback. She had considered many possibilities—power, women, prestige. But Mr. F essentially wanted just one thing: money.
At the end of the day, they were just work points, so she negotiated a deal that satisfied both of them.
In the end, Mr. F left the office with a smile, a new recipe, and alchemical materials tucked away in his pouch.