Mr. F returned to the lab, knowing full well he could have waited out the last two days at Emma's estate. But he had unfinished business to settle before his departure. As he moved through the quiet halls, the memories of the past few days came flooding back—so much had happened between crafting the vitality elixirs and the lab explosion.

His first stop was the materials department, where he exchanged his accumulated work points for ingredients—components for the improved vitality elixirs. Then, he made his way to his own laboratory, retrieving the Rank 5 cauldron and slipping it into his spatial pouch. Technically, it was only partially his, but Emma had cleared that up already. As he looked around one last time, Mr. F realized that, despite all that had occurred, this place held no meaning for him. It was just another stop along his journey.

He returned to his quarters, intending to focus on the sapling he had acquired. After all, the system had issued a new quest to learn more about it. But before he could begin his analysis, a knock interrupted him. Setting the sapling aside, Mr. F opened the door to find Albert and Betty, both visibly distressed.

Albert spoke first, his voice filled with urgency. "Master F, it's terrible! Someone broke into the lab and stole all the alchemy materials—even your cauldron! It must have happened during the beast attack when the city was left unprotected. These thieves have no shame, even when the city was in danger!"

Mr. F looked at him calmly, his expression unreadable. "Come in," he said, stepping aside. "We need to talk."

Albert hesitated but followed his master into the room, still shaken by the news. Betty, however, balled her fists, her eyes already betraying the suspicion she seemed to harbor. They sat at the small table that occupied the center of the room, a reminder of the lack of luxury that had defined Mr. F's stay, even after his rise within the lab's ranks. But such details were meaningless now.

Without preamble, Mr. F decided to speak frankly. "I've made a deal with the patriarch of the Silverblade family. In two days, I will leave this city and head for the capital. The materials from the lab weren't stolen—I took them. I've secured them for my journey."

Albert's face drained of color. Shock, and then disbelief, flashed across his expression. Tears welled in both his and Betty's eyes, and for a moment, the weight of the revelation hung heavily in the air. Mr. F watched as Albert slowly wiped his tears away, his hands trembling, before he spoke with newfound determination.

"Master, please, take us with you!" Albert's eyes were red, but there was no wavering in his voice. Betty, though still shaken, looked to Albert with a mixture of admiration and sadness. How could he be so brave, she wondered, willing to leave everything behind—their city, their families—just to follow their master?

Mr. F regarded Albert, his gaze sharp. "Albert, do you understand what that means? The capital is two days away by flying beast. If you were to travel by horse or carriage, it would take several weeks. You won't be able to return easily, not until you've reached a higher rank. Are you prepared to leave your family behind?"

Albert hesitated. The gravity of the decision seemed to settle over him like a weight he hadn't fully considered. His eyes darted to Betty, but it was she who spoke first, breaking the silence.

"Master," Betty began, her voice steady but laced with emotion. "My family lives in the capital, though our relationship is... complicated. That's why I've been here, in this city. But if it's your wish to go, then…" She took a breath, gathering her resolve. "Then I will follow."

Mr. F was intrigued. Betty's decision was unexpected, and he turned his gaze back to Albert. The young man could only shake his head, his face pale with indecision.

"Master, I need to speak with my family," Albert said, his voice small but sincere. "I can't make this decision on my own." He bowed deeply, his hands trembling.

Mr. F nodded. "There's no need to rush, Albert. Whatever you decide, remember, I will always be your master. If you change your mind in the future, you'll be able to find me in the capital, at least for the next few years."

A part of Mr. F felt a pang of guilt for putting such a burden on his students. He didn't know how long he would remain in the capital—perhaps ten years, perhaps less. But he also knew that for the future he envisioned, he would need trustworthy followers. Albert and Betty had shown loyalty, and perhaps in time, he could trust them with even more. For now, they were a good start.

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"Come to Emma's estate in two days at dawn if you're sure of your decision," Mr. F said finally. "If not, I'll know you've chosen to stay here. And Betty, think this through carefully as well."

Both students nodded, their minds heavy with the weight of what was to come.

Both Albert and Betty left Mr. F's room shortly after their conversation, each of them heading home to consult with their families about the monumental decision that lay ahead. Mr. F, left in peace for the remainder of the evening, returned his focus to the sapling. Something about its nature was familiar to him, though he couldn't quite place it. It gnawed at him, a puzzle lurking in the recesses of his mind.

Determined to unlock the sapling's secrets, Mr. F scoured his collection of books. He poured over tomes and scrolls, hoping to find a reference to its unusual characteristics, but to his frustration, none of the texts held any answers. Even Matilda's extensive library yielded no useful information. Every avenue seemed to be a dead end.

Returning to his room, Mr. F knew he was running out of time. Tomorrow was his final day in the city, and the puzzle of the sapling still eluded him. He decided to take a different approach—he would finally claim the knowledge the system had promised as a reward for completing his quest. While he doubted it would contain specific information on this particular sapling, the broader insights on cultivating magical plants might prove useful.

As Mr. F mentally requested the knowledge from the system, he expected a book or scroll to materialize. But instead, the experience was far more disorienting. The information didn't appear physically but flowed directly into his mind, as though it were being written into the very fabric of his consciousness. The room around him darkened, and he briefly lost consciousness, collapsing into his chair.

When Mr. F awoke, his vision was still slightly blurred. Thankfully, he had requested the knowledge while safely within his room. After a few deep breaths, the disorientation passed, and he began to test what had changed. It was strange—though he felt no immediate difference, when he concentrated on alchemical fields and magical plant cultivation, the information came to him as if it had always been there. It was as though he had spent a lifetime mastering these subjects.

He shifted his thoughts back to the sapling, eager to see if the newfound knowledge would offer any clues. Unfortunately, the information remained limited. The system had confirmed what he already knew—that the sapling had awakened a soul during the ritual. Based on its form and color, Mr. F deduced that the sapling would grow into a large bush or tree, which was promising. A tree or bush could bear fruit multiple times, offering a recurring resource, whereas a flower or herb could usually be harvested only once without using special methods.

But even with this insight, the full potential of the sapling remained a mystery. Mr. F's mind raced with ideas and theories, but none felt conclusive. His best hope now lay in the city's library. If the building had survived the attack unscathed, it could hold vital records that might solve this puzzle before his departure.

The thought sparked a new sense of urgency in him. The library had a third floor, which contained restricted knowledge. If his access was still valid, he might find something there that could illuminate the sapling's origins or properties. Tomorrow would be his last chance to investigate.

With that, Mr. F prepared for bed, his mind still whirling with possibilities. He knew he needed to rest.

At the break of dawn, Mr. F made his way directly to the library, the air cool and still. He knew that at such an early hour, most of the city's less diligent and bothersome individuals would still be in bed, leaving the library empty and peaceful. Perfect conditions for his task.

When he reached the reception desk, he noticed that the usual attendant was absent, replaced by someone unfamiliar. This was a minor setback, as he had intended to ask a few subtle questions about his level 3 access. With this new person, such inquiries might raise suspicion.

He tried depositing coins into the automated machine again, just to be sure, but once more, it refused his money. With a sigh of quiet irritation, Mr. F proceeded with his original plan.

The library was, as expected, nearly deserted. Only a handful of early risers moved about, and Mr. F felt fortunate to be undisturbed as he made his way through the shelves of the second floor, searching for books on magical plants.

He spent some time combing through the texts, but quickly realized that nothing here would help him. There was no mention of plants with awakened souls—at least, not in any of these accessible books. His brow furrowed in frustration, knowing that his answers lay elsewhere.

He ascended to the third floor, where the more restricted volumes were kept. As he climbed the stairs, he felt eyes on him. It was no surprise—those who had access to higher levels of the library were always subject to envy. But today, the stares seemed heavier, filled with a mix of curiosity and resentment.

One particular gaze stood out, filled with raw, bloodthirsty intent. Mr. F felt it clearly—a gaze that would make most men freeze with unease or fear. But Mr. F wasn't most men. He had felt the malice of beings far more dangerous than any human before, and this murderous intent washed over him like a breeze, unnoticed and irrelevant.

He didn't flinch or pause. His steps remained steady as he continued up the stairs, mentally cataloging the source of that hostile gaze. It would be dealt with later, if necessary. Right now, his focus was on unlocking the mysteries of the sapling before his time in the city ran out.