"Oh? What is it you need help with?" he asked, leaning forward slightly, eager to hear what request might come.

Mr. F took a moment, choosing his words carefully. "It's about the Mana Burn potion I've been working on. As you know, the ingredients are particularly sensitive, especially the Goblin Shaman blood. I've run into some issues with stabilizing the mixture. The potion either overflows or dries up into a useless sludge."

Peterson nodded, understanding the difficulty. "Yes, the balance of those ingredients is notoriously tricky. It's a common stumbling block, even for seasoned alchemists."

"Exactly," Mr. F continued. "I'm confident I'll get it right eventually, but it's a slow process, and I'm limited by the number of sets I have. That's where I could use your help."

Peterson's curiosity deepened. "Go on."

"I wanted to ask how one can acquire an assistant. I could really use some help in the lab, as cleaning up after failed experiments either drains too much of my magical energy or takes up too much time. With an assistant who could use their magical power to handle the cleanup, I could work faster and more efficiently.

Peterson was surprised. He had expected Mr. F to ask for tips on brewing the elixir or perhaps request additional ingredients to conduct more trials. But instead, Mr. F was asking for something as simple as assistance with cleaning.

"Well, that depends," Peterson replied, intrigued. "Tina, the girl you saw earlier, was provided to me by the organization. She handles tasks like retrieving reagents from the storage or assisting with basic tasks during potion brewing. However, in return, I'm responsible for helping her improve her alchemy skills and answering her questions.

"The apprenticeship typically lasts three years, during which the apprentice must prove capable of brewing a Tier 1 potion. If they fail, they are deemed talentless and dismissed from the service of the house. Of course, this is where the risk lies—a failed apprentice could blame their teacher for poor instruction, and it's generally bad for your reputation if your novices don't pass the examination.

"On the other hand, if you successfully train an apprentice, you build connections with them and their families, who often show their gratitude with gifts—like the wine we're drinking now."

Mr. F considered this carefully. It sounded like a lot of work, but then Peterson interrupted his train of thought.

"There's also the option of hiring assistants from outside. You can negotiate their payment or mentorship terms as you see fit, but these assistants are thoroughly vetted by the family before they're allowed access to the estate. Plus, they're not allowed to stay overnight; they have to arrive in the morning and leave by evening."

Mr. F listened carefully to Peterson's explanation, weighing the options in his mind. He had expected the process of obtaining an assistant to be more straightforward, but now he realized there were complexities he hadn't anticipated.

"So, it comes down to either taking on a novice provided by the organization, which involves a commitment to their training, or hiring an external assistant who requires thorough vetting and cannot stay on the premises overnight," Mr. F summarized, his tone thoughtful.

"Exactly," Peterson confirmed. "Each option has its pros and cons. Training a novice could benefit you in the long run, especially if they become skilled and owe their success to you. On the other hand, an external assistant might be less of a long-term commitment but could still ease your workload significantly."

Mr. F nodded, considering the possibilities. The idea of training a novice intrigued him, especially the potential connections and benefits it could bring in the future. However, he was also aware of the risks involved—both to his reputation and the time investment required. The alternative of hiring an external assistant seemed more immediately practical, especially given his current needs in the lab. The daily routine of cleaning up after failed experiments was eating into his time and resources, slowing down his progress.

"I have to admit," Mr. F began, "the idea of training a novice does appeal to me. The long-term benefits are clear. Building a network of skilled alchemists, especially those who feel indebted to me, could prove invaluable. But…"

He paused, taking a sip of the wine as he weighed his options. "But I'm also aware of the immediate challenges. Training someone from the ground up takes time—time that I'm not sure I can spare right now, especially with the demands of the lab. My focus needs to be on perfecting my work, not on correcting someone else's mistakes."

Peterson nodded in understanding. "That's a fair point. It's a significant investment, and not one to be taken lightly. But if you're considering it, now might be the best time. Your work is gaining recognition, and having an apprentice could free up more of your time in the long run. Plus, it's an opportunity to pass on your knowledge."

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Mr. F leaned back in his chair, the weight of the decision pressing on him. "And yet, the practical side of me says that an external assistant might be the better choice for now. They could handle the mundane tasks, allowing me to focus on the more complex aspects of my research. It's a quicker solution to my current problem, and one that doesn't require as much of a personal investment."

"You're right," Peterson agreed. "An external assistant would meet your immediate needs without the long-term commitment. They're less of a risk, but also less of a potential reward."

Mr. F tapped his fingers on the armrest, deep in thought. "I think I'll start with an external assistant. It will give me the support I need now, and if I find that I have the capacity later, I can consider taking on a novice. This way, I can see how much assistance I truly require before diving into a full apprenticeship."

Peterson smiled, raising his glass. "A wise decision. You'll be able to maintain your current pace while still leaving the door open for future opportunities. And who knows? Perhaps in a few months, you'll find yourself ready to train the next great alchemist."

Mr. F clinked his glass against Peterson's, feeling a sense of relief. "To the future," he said, taking a sip. The decision felt right for now—pragmatic, yet flexible. He would take things one step at a time, ensuring that his work continued to progress without being bogged down by unnecessary distractions.

The next day dawned, and Mr. F sought out Matilda to discuss his request.

"A helper? Isn't it a bit too early for that? You've only been with us for less than a week, and you're already asking for an external assistant?" Matilda questioned, her tone slightly skeptical.

Mr. F responded calmly, "I've noticed that my magical energy isn't sufficient to reach my full potential, and I need someone to handle the cleaning. Since I'm not planning to train anyone in alchemy at the moment, an external helper seems like the best option."

"Hmm, is that so?" Matilda said, contemplating his request. Generally, it was too soon to allow Mr. F a helper. Typically, such a privilege was granted only after a year of service. However, an idea sparked in her mind.

"I have a helper for you," Matilda said with a confident smile. "And you don't need to worry about his training. It's perfectly fine if you only use him for cleaning."

Mr. F raised an eyebrow, sensing that there might be more to this offer. It sounded almost too good to be true, so he asked, "And what's the catch?"

Matilda's smile widened slightly. "Well, the young man I have in mind has no talent for alchemy and has already been given up on by two teachers. The only reason he's still here is due to a generous donation from his family to the lab. Otherwise, he would have been dismissed long ago."

Mr. F considered the situation briefly but decided to accept. "So be it. I'll take him on. But don't expect me to teach him anything. I'm already occupied with other matters."

With a faint smile, Matilda responded, "Of course, no problem."

As Mr. F left her lab, an uneasy feeling settled in his chest, as if he had just made a deal that might haunt him for a long time to come.

Back in his lab, Mr. F didn't have to wait long before he heard a knock at the door. He walked over to open it, only for the person on the other side to stumble forward, landing face-first on the floor with his rear end comically pointed upward.

A sigh escaped Mr. F's lips. The young man's clumsy entrance immediately made Mr. F suspect that this helper might cause more work than he would save. However, Mr. F resolved to put him to the test before making any final judgments.

The young man scrambled to his feet, brushing the dust off his clothes. It was only then that Mr. F got a good look at him. The young man had blond hair that fell to his ears, a sharp chin, and a long, slender nose, giving him the appearance of someone from noble blood. But what stood out most to Mr. F were the young man's pointed, elongated ears.

"You're an elf?" Mr. F asked, his curiosity piqued.

"I'm a half-elf," the young man replied, his voice steady despite the awkwardness of his entrance.

"Would you care to introduce yourself?" Mr. F prompted.

Panic flashed across the young man's face as he quickly bowed slightly and stammered, "My name is Albert, I'm 19 years old, and I'm a Rank 2 Mage."

"F," Mr. F muttered under his breath, withholding any further comment as he sized up the young man before him.

"F? Is that supposed to mean your name is just a letter?"

"Well... not many people know my full name," Mr. F replied with a sly smile. "I could probably count them on one hand—well, at least those who are still alive. Ha ha ha ha."

Albert joined in the laughter, unaware that Mr. F wasn't joking but was dead serious.

For high-ranking mages, anything could be a vulnerability—even a name. This is why Mr. F had decided long ago to keep his name a closely guarded secret, only revealing it if absolutely necessary or if he completely trusted the person. His name, after all, was not just a label but a key to his power, and in the wrong hands, it could be used against him.

As the laughter died down, Mr. F studied Albert, wondering if this half-elf would ever be one of the rare few who could be trusted with such a secret. But for now, he would keep his guard up, testing the young man's capabilities and character before deciding how much to reveal.

"But before that..." Mr. F raised his hand in front of the young man's face. With a snap of his other hand, a sphere of all-encompassing magic enveloped the two of them, blocking everything from the outside world.

Magic flowed from Mr. F's hand, directing itself toward the young man. The light in Albert's eyes dimmed as the spell took hold. Mr. F's voice was steady as he asked, "Are you here with any ulterior motives?"

Albert responded in a monotone voice, "I am here to serve as your assistant and report to the head if you show any exceptional talent in any way."

"Hoh, is that all?" Mr. F inquired, narrowing his eyes.

"That is all," Albert replied, his voice flat and emotionless.

"Hmm... then it seems I worried for nothing," Mr. F mused. "Forget this conversation ever happened and feel free to report whatever you wish to Matilda."

With that, the magic receded from Albert, who blinked in confusion, the clarity returning to his eyes. He looked at Mr. F, puzzled. "What just happened?" he thought, the memory of the last few moments foggy and disjointed.

Mr. F offered no explanation, merely turning back to his work as if nothing had occurred. Albert was left standing there, feeling as though he had missed something crucial but unsure of what it was.