Mr. F began the process of creating the Rank 5 potion. He went through the usual steps, ensuring Albert and Betty were watching closely. In front of a massive cauldron, Mr. F tossed in enough materials to create twenty sets of catalysts. Under Betty's watchful eyes, he skillfully completed the process, producing Rank 3 catalysts—far superior to the ones Betty was trying to create. Catalysts, by nature, had a high success rate, and Mr. F was confident that Betty would be able to make them successfully within a week, even if only at a Rank 2 level.

Next, he pulled out five red crystals, tossing them into a mortar. Instead of grinding them traditionally, he coated his arms in mana and used them as a pestle, crushing the crystals with effortless precision. The task that might have taken others hours, Mr. F completed in just ten minutes. He repeated the process three more times. Within an hour, he had prepared all the necessary materials to make twenty potions.

Albert, who had been watching in awe, couldn't help but lean over to whisper to Betty, "Why does Mr. F make us do all the tedious work when he can do the entire process so quickly himself? It would only take him an extra hour a day."

Betty, understanding the logic behind Mr. F's method, shook her head. "Albert, how much do you think a Rank 5 alchemist is worth? What do you think?"

Albert frowned, unsure of the answer. "A lot?" he guessed.

"Right. So, how much do you think a Rank 2 alchemist is worth?" Betty pressed.

"Not much, I guess?"

Betty chuckled softly. "Exactly. So let me put it this way: how many Rank 2 alchemists do you think it would take to equal the value of one Rank 5 alchemist?"

Albert thought about it, but the answer eluded him. Betty decided to help him out. "It would take a thousand Rank 2 alchemists to equal the revenue of one Rank 5 alchemist. That means that while Mr. F could earn 1,000 gold in the time it takes us to make 1 gold, we're still saving him time by doing the smaller tasks."

Albert mulled it over. "So it's all about saving Mr. F's time, because his time is more valuable than ours."

"Exactly," Betty said. "The more time we save for him, the more potions he can create, and the more gold he earns for the lab."

Suddenly, Mr. F's voice boomed across the room. "It's not just about that!" he said, addressing both of them. "Betty, learning to make catalysts is a key part of your training. Right now, I'm training you to make a Rank 3 catalyst. Once you succeed, you'll officially be a Rank 3 alchemist. And Albert," he added, turning to him, "the potions you'll be working on in the future will involve monster cores. By learning how to handle Rank 5 cores now, you'll find it much easier to work with more complex ingredients later."

Mr. F paused for a moment, then added with a wry smile, "But don't worry too much. Just do what your master tells you. And remember, it's good to question things—but maybe don't do it so loudly when I can hear you."

Both Albert and Betty blushed, realizing they'd been overheard. Without a word, they jumped back to their tasks, eager to prove themselves. Betty studied the list of errors she'd made during her first attempt and steeled herself for another try. Albert, on the other hand, took out a new Rank 5 crystal and placed it in his new mortar. Like before, Mr. F had already pre-split the crystal, making it easier for Albert to grind it down. Still, it took him a full hour to crush the crystal into a fine powder.

As Albert worked, he grew increasingly frustrated. Even at his current pace, it would take him twenty hours a day to prepare the twenty sets required. There had to be a faster way.

Seeing the frustration on his face, Mr. F decided to intervene. "Albert," he called out, "think about what you've learned in this lab. How could you apply that knowledge to speed up the process?"

Albert paused and pondered the question for a moment. "Can I use anything I've learned?" he asked cautiously.

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Mr. F was a bit surprised by the question but answered, "Yes, as long as I'm here to supervise, nothing bad will happen."

Albert smiled brightly, and an idea seemed to strike him. He gathered several more Rank 5 crystal shards and threw them into the cauldron. Mr. F, curious to see what Albert had in mind, watched closely. Then he saw it—Albert pulled out one of the Rank 2 explosive pills he had made during his earlier experiments.

Just as Albert was about to toss the pill into the cauldron, he hesitated, looking up at Mr. F for approval. The moment Mr. F saw what Albert was planning, he sprinted across the room and snatched the pill from Albert's hand.

"Not like that, you blockhead!" Mr. F sighed in relief, giving Albert a gentle slap on the back of the head.

Albert rubbed the spot, embarrassed. "Then what should I do?" he asked.

Mr. F crossed his arms. "Tell me, Albert, what does compression magic do?"

"It compresses things," Albert answered quickly.

"Exactly. And what would happen if you used the opposite of compression magic?"

Albert's eyes lit up as the realization hit him. He hurried back to the cauldron, tossed more crystal shards in, sealed the lid, and attempted to reverse the compression magic. Mr. F watched in amusement as Albert focused intently for the next ten minutes.

When Albert opened the cauldron, he was disheartened to find that not much had changed. Mr. F groaned and rubbed his temples. "Albert, try with one shard first, then work your way up."

Embarrassed but determined, Albert nodded and did as his master suggested. Betty, standing nearby, couldn't help but giggle at Albert's misstep. Albert noticed and turned to her, but Betty quickly turned away, trying to hide her laughter. Soon, even Albert couldn't hold back and joined in the laughter.

Watching his students, Mr. F himself couldn't help but crack a smile.

After a short while, everyone returned to their respective tasks. Mr. F was still experimenting with the potion recipe, but so far had not successfully brewed the elixir. Betty also made several attempts, but her success rate mirrored that of Mr. F—she had yet to achieve a breakthrough. Albert, on the other hand, was the only one who was making steady progress, albeit at a slow pace. His first attempt with "decompression magic," as he called it, took him a staggering three hours. By the end of it, he was utterly exhausted, his mana reserves completely drained. It took him nearly 30 minutes of rest before he could breathe normally again.

Despite the toll on his energy, Albert saw this as a success. He could tell that as he honed his skill, the time required for the process would decrease significantly. Encouraged by this, he pushed forward. They all continued working until evening, when they finally called it a day to rest.

The next day brought tangible improvements. Betty, after several failures, showed her latest attempts to Mr. F, who used his system to offer her detailed advice and corrections. Albert also benefited from Mr. F's guidance, as he spent time teaching him more about the intricacies of decompression magic. Both could feel how much they had improved compared to the previous day. Betty, by midday, managed to successfully produce her first catalyst. Albert, on the other hand, reduced his decompression magic process to just one hour, a remarkable improvement from the previous day.

Their success brought a new sense of camaraderie. They shared their progress with each other, genuinely pleased with each other's achievements. A few days ago, such mutual support would have been unimaginable, but now they were working together toward the same goal.

The day flew by, and as the evening approached, there was a sudden knock on the door. A man entered, and Mr. F recognized him immediately as one of the guards who had accompanied Matilda during the lab explosion incident.

"All staff are to gather in the main hall immediately," the guard announced, his tone firm. "No exceptions."

Mr. F was surprised by the sudden summons and decided to halt his current experiment. Another failed attempt wouldn't add much to the overall costs, and he figured it best not to ignore the order. Albert and Betty also put everything aside and made their way toward the main hall. The hallways were filled with the lab's staff, all murmuring in confusion and nervousness, wondering what could possibly be happening.

By the time they reached the main hall, they were among the last to arrive, as their lab was situated farther away. Everyone's eyes were fixed on the stage at the front of the room, expecting Matilda, the head of the lab, to address them. To their surprise, however, Matilda was not alone. She was accompanied by another woman, flanked by additional guards. The employees exchanged puzzled glances, unsure of who the unfamiliar woman could be and what rank she might hold.

Mr. F, however, recognized her immediately. It was Emma, the head of the family overseeing this branch of the city and the owner of the lab itself. Her presence instantly changed the atmosphere in the room. The employees stood straighter, sensing the gravity of the situation.

Matilda stepped forward first, clearing her throat. "Thank you all for coming on such short notice. I understand many of you were in the middle of important tasks, but we have urgent matters to address."

Her tone was serious, and the staff hung on her every word. Emma stood silently beside her, watching the room with sharp eyes, as if she could see through every individual present. It was clear this wasn't going to be an ordinary meeting.