Both stood in the lab in absolute silence.

It was Matilda who broke the silence first. "I'll deduct the three months' salary from our bet. I hope that's acceptable to you," she said, her voice calm but firm.

Mr. F didn't speak immediately. Instead, he gave her a small nod, acknowledging her words. The silence returned, heavy and filled with unspoken thoughts. After a few more minutes, Mr. F finally spoke. "Tell me, Matilda, is it permissible to restructure the lab?"

Matilda raised an eyebrow in confusion. "What do you mean by that?" she asked, curious but uncertain where the conversation was heading.

"Can I add walls? Remove them? As long as the structural integrity of the building remains intact?" Mr. F clarified, his tone calculated.

Understanding dawned on Matilda. She considered his request before replying, "As long as you don't knock down any load-bearing walls or damage critical parts of the structure, you're free to make changes. However," she added with a stern look, "if you ever return the lab, it must be restored to its original state. If you can't, there will be penalties, depending on the extent of the modifications."

Mr. F seemed satisfied with her answer and immediately began to channel his magic. Matilda watched in awe as his telekinesis took hold. The debris from the destroyed lab and the main room began to lift into the air, swirling together and gathering at a single point in the center of the room. With a focused application of compression magic, Mr. F compacted all the rubble into a dense cube of material.

Next, he shifted to earth magic. The once 100-square-meter main room shrank by about 20 square meters as the walls of the alchemy chambers were torn down and moved forward. The previously separate lab spaces were merged into one expansive, unified area.

Matilda was left impressed by the precision of his magic. What would have taken a team of architects days to accomplish, Mr. F managed in mere minutes. "He truly is a Rank 6 mage for a reason," she thought to herself.

When Mr. F finished, he turned to Matilda, his expression serious but calm. "I know we got off to a rough start," he began, "but I'm asking you for a favor. I'd like two oversized cauldrons—each two to three times larger than a standard one. Also, I want the door between the lab and the main room removed. This way, I can always keep an eye on my students, even though I believe they've learned their lesson."

Matilda blinked in surprise at the request. It was an unusual ask, but nothing she couldn't handle. "That shouldn't be a problem," she said, though she hesitated. "However, getting two cauldrons that large might be an issue."

She went on to explain, "Typically, each lab is equipped with cauldrons classified as Rank 2 artifacts. The size you're asking for would require different materials, and the cauldrons would likely be classified as Rank 4 artifacts. While you're entitled to a Rank 4 cauldron, requesting two might cause problems. Other colleagues have been waiting for a cauldron upgrade for a long time. If I fulfill your request, some of them may become envious and complain. This could reflect poorly on both me and the lab, especially considering the recent incident with your students nearly blowing up the place. Rewarding you with two such cauldrons might raise eyebrows."

Mr. F considered her words carefully. He didn't want to part with his work points, knowing he'd need them for future alchemy ingredients. However, he had other valuable resources. Reaching into his spatial pouch, he pulled out a heavy sack and tossed it at Matilda's feet.

Matilda's eyes widened in shock as the bag hit the floor with a metallic clink. Slowly, she opened the sack and was completely taken aback by what she saw. The shimmering glow of gold filled the room as the firelight reflected off the countless coins. The entire bag was filled to the brim with gold coins—more than she had ever seen at once.

"How much gold is in here?" Matilda asked, her voice shaky with disbelief. She couldn't fathom where Mr. F had acquired such a fortune.

"Exactly 10,000 gold coins," Mr. F said nonchalantly. "Use it to get me what I need. I don't care if you have to bring in a blacksmith from outside or work within your usual contacts. All I want is that second Rank 4 cauldron."

Matilda swallowed hard, trying to process the enormity of the offer. Ten thousand gold coins was an immense sum. She wasn't sure if she could even spend all of it on a Rank 4 cauldron—perhaps it could even get them a Rank 5 cauldron, which only she possessed. The thought of what this amount of gold could accomplish left her stunned. A second Rank 5 cauldron could increase production for the entire lab.

After careful thought, she responded, "I'll consult with Lady Emma and see what options this gold opens up for you. I hope that's acceptable."

Mr. F gave her a curt nod, and Matilda quickly transferred the gold into her own spatial container. The sheer amount of wealth made her uneasy, and she resolved to meet with Lady Emma the next day. "We'll have everything restored by the day after tomorrow," she promised. "You can take the day off tomorrow while we rebuild the lab."

"You'll get the promised Rank 4 cauldron," she added, "but the acquisition of the second cauldron might take longer. I'll let you know as soon as I have more information."

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With that, Matilda left the lab. She still had other questions for Mr. F, but the day had been long, and too much had already transpired. Some things could wait.

Mr. F remained in the lab until it was completely empty. Once he was sure no one was around to see him, he collapsed to the floor, clutching his chest. A fit of coughing wracked his body, and he spat out several mouthfuls of blood, his entire frame trembling violently.

The boost to his vitality from the Day Boost potion had long since worn off, and Mr. F could feel his life force gradually slipping away. Before the explosion, he had intended to take another potion, but when he heard the commotion outside his lab, he had put it away and decided to investigate what his students were up to.

When he saw the explosion, he had no choice but to act quickly, casting a protection spell on both his students and himself. Protection magic wasn't his specialty, so it had drained a significant portion of his magical reserves to keep it active. This left him with little energy to defend himself. He channeled what magic he could into his robe, which had the unique property of shielding its wearer from attacks. But even with the robe's protection, the remaining magical energy wasn't enough, and he had sustained a considerable amount of internal damage during the blast.

On the outside, Mr. F appeared unscathed, but his internal organs had taken a serious blow from the shockwave.

With his vitality dwindling, his magical regeneration had slowed to a crawl. Using the last of his strength, Mr. F retrieved the Day Boost potion from his spatial pouch and downed it in one swift motion. He then took a Rank 3 healing pill and forced himself to focus on his body's recovery, despite his weakened state.

The potion's effects kicked in almost immediately. Mr. F could feel his vitality surging back, reinvigorating his body. The healing pill worked in tandem with the potion, accelerating his body's natural regenerative processes. After a few moments, he was able to stand again, his strength slowly returning.

Minutes later, he felt almost as good as new. The vitality coursing through his veins made him feel alive, as though a fresh wave of magic surrounded him. It was a good feeling, he thought to himself.

Casting one last glance at the wrecked lab, Mr. F left without bothering to lock the door. After all, there was nothing left worth protecting.

…

Meanwhile, it was already late into the night. Albert suddenly awoke with a jolt, instinctively reaching for his blanket. His heart pounded in his chest, but as he blinked in the dim light and recognized his familiar room, he relaxed. Letting out a shaky breath, he sank back onto his bed. The nightmare had felt so real. In it, he had relived the events of the day, but this time, the explosion had been much worse. In the dream, he had seen the lifeless bodies of Matilda and Mr. F scattered among the wreckage, their faces pale, their bodies broken. The vivid image terrified him, and without thinking, he pulled the blanket over his head, as if it could shield him from the horror still lingering in his mind.

He didn't know how long he had been hiding under his blanket, trying to push the nightmare out of his thoughts. His breathing finally slowed, and he found himself lost in the silence of the night. But then, a knock sounded at his door. At first, Albert ignored it, not wanting to face anyone. His mind was still clouded with guilt and shame over what had happened earlier in the day. The knocking persisted, more insistent now, but Albert remained silent, hoping the person would eventually give up.

But then a voice came through the door. "Albert, I know you're awake. Open the door."

Albert recognized the voice immediately. It was Betty. His heart sank, and instead of responding, he pulled a pillow over his head, trying to block her out. He didn't want to talk. Not to anyone, and especially not to her.

"Open the door, Albert, or I'm going to kick it in," she threatened, her voice firm but not unkind.

"You can't do that!" Albert shot back, unable to keep silent any longer. "You could get fired for something like that!" He realized his mistake the moment the words left his mouth. He had given himself away.

"So, you are awake," Betty said, her voice calm but insistent. "Now open the door. I just want to talk."

Albert groaned. He didn't want to see anyone, especially not her, but there was no avoiding it now. Reluctantly, he crawled out of bed. He was still wearing the same clothes from earlier, the ones he had worn during the explosion in the lab. Slowly, he opened the door just a crack, intending to keep the conversation short. But Betty was faster than he anticipated, and she pushed her way into his room, marching straight to his bed and sitting down on the edge.

Annoyed by her sudden intrusion, Albert sighed but resigned himself to the situation. He sat down next to her, leaving some space between them, and finally asked, "So, what do you want?"

For a moment, Betty didn't answer. She clenched her fists tightly, staring at the floor. The room was filled with an uncomfortable silence. Albert, trying to lighten the mood, joked weakly, "What? Never been in a guy's room so late at night? Don't worry, I'm not going to do anything weird."

He expected a playful response, but instead, Betty looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears. Albert felt his heart sink in guilt and quickly looked away, staring down at his feet. "I'm sor—" he began, but before he could finish, Betty interrupted him.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice trembling as tears spilled down her cheeks. "I didn't want things to get this far. I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I just… I just didn't want you to think you could mess with me whenever you felt like it. I wanted you to know that I'm not someone you can just push around!"

Albert was taken aback. This wasn't what he had expected from Betty at all. If anything, he had thought she would still be furious with him. After all, wasn't it his fault that everything had gone wrong?

"No, Betty," Albert said softly, his own voice beginning to shake. "It was all my fault." Tears welled up in his eyes, and as they began to spill over, he continued, "I just couldn't stand the thought of you being better than me. I've never had a master who believed in me before. Mr. F… he's the first person who's ever given me a chance, who's ever really believed in me." His voice faltered, and he wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. "I couldn't let you take that away from me. I couldn't…"

Albert's voice trailed off, the weight of his emotions too much for him to bear. But Betty, despite her own tears, seemed to understand.

"Let's make a promise," Betty said suddenly, her voice stronger now. She wiped away the last of her tears, determination shining in her eyes. "From now on, let's give everything we have to help our master. No more fighting. No more trying to one-up each other. Let's do this for him."

Albert blinked through his tears, surprised by her resolve. He reached up and wiped his face, nodding slowly. "Deal," he said, his voice thick with emotion as he extended his hand.

Betty reached out, taking his hand in hers, and the two shook on it, sealing their promise. It was a small gesture, but in that moment, it felt like the beginning of something bigger. Something stronger.