Before the end of the day, Howard managed to successfully complete four prescriptions of the wound-healing salve. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been successful when it mattered most. Just thinking about how the Myriad Mist Cultivation Technique had slipped out of his hands caused his chest to ache. Luckily, he was still on track to assassinating his classmate. “Master,” Howard said. “May I take some materials back to my room to continue practicing? There are a few other prescriptions I’d like to practice making.”
Teacher Botan’s leaves rustled as she thought about it. The boy was pretty average when it came to prescription concocting. She had no idea why he had been so fired up during his first attempt, and she regretted planting the trap a little. If his momentum hadn’t been stopped, perhaps he would’ve succeeded on his first try and had the confidence to continue succeeding. However, it was a necessary lesson to teach him the meaning of picking himself up after failure. Later on, if he eventually wanted to branch into alchemy, he’d be dealing with materials that could purchase whole kingdoms if sold. It was better to struggle now than to struggle later. Luckily, her personal disciple’s spirit hadn’t been broken. “Of course, which prescriptions are you attempting?”
“Mudroot Antidote, Spring Snow Powder, and Muscle Recovery Steeping Bag,” Howard said. According to the system, if he chose these three prescriptions, Teacher Botan wouldn’t suspect his true motive. The three prescriptions he had chosen were the basics for antidotes, powders, and steeping bags. Every novice apothecary would practice with those three before moving on to something more difficult because the price of the materials required for the prescription were quite low. However, within the ingredients in the three prescriptions, there were the required herbs necessary to create the traceless poison the system had recommended.
Teacher Botan nodded her flower. She was going to make Howard concoct those prescriptions within the month anyway. It was fine for him to take the initiative and begin early. Since her disciple was showing so much drive, there was no way she could disappoint him. Her roots carried her to a corner of the greenhouse, and she tapped on a stone tile. A lined pattern appeared on the tile and began to glow. The tile rose up, revealing a storage space. Teacher Botan’s leaves swiped around, taking the necessary ingredients and storing them into a bag. The bag expanded as she added more and more things, and she only stopped when it was as large as Howard. “There are enough raw ingredients in here to attempt each prescription a hundred times,” she said and shuffled back towards Howard, the stone tile sinking back into the ground as she did. Teacher Botan passed the bag to Howard. “Don’t rush. After each attempt, analyze what you did wrong and think about how you can prevent such a mistake from happening again. Don’t feel as if you need to use all these materials. If there are any extra, you can return them to me. If you encounter any troubles, write them down and bring them to me after class.”
“I will, Master,” Howard said, taking the bag. He couldn’t help but feel a bit moved. He was only using Teacher Botan to get the Myriad Mist Cultivation Technique; however, she was treating him as an actual disciple. A tiny bit of guilt blossomed in his chest, but he quickly suppressed the uncomfortable feeling. If he couldn’t overcome the guilt of using a teacher, how would he ever be capable of murdering a classmate? His expression hardened, and Howard slung the bag over his shoulder, letting the majority of it rest on his back. “I promise I won’t disappoint you.”
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Once Howard got back to his room, the first thing he did was attempt to concoct the traceless poison. He didn’t understand it, but the system told him exactly what to do. He minced herbs, steeped them, laid them out to dry, mashed and mixed them. There were quite a few failures, but eventually, he created something the system deemed acceptable. It was a colorless liquid, and if someone were to glance at the bottle in Howard’s hand, they’d think it was simply a glass of water or some kind of clear alcohol. If they smelled it, then they’d be certain it was water. Howard examined the final product. To him, this wasn’t a bottle of poison, it was his ticket to greatness. Now, all he had to do was get some of this stuff onto the cactus’s roots, which he assumed were embedded in its feet.
[At ten in the morning tomorrow, the cactus will take its daily soak in the pond. If you put the poison in ten minutes before it enters, the cactus will be dead within a minute after it steps into the water. When in contact with water, the poison will last twenty minutes before completely dissolving, all traces of it ever existing will be gone by then, leaving no way for anyone to trace this back to you. I suggest you use your remaining time to concoct the three prescriptions, so if anyone scrutinizes your herb usage, you’ll have a proper alibi.]
Howard nodded. The most important thing wasn’t killing the cactus: it was not getting caught after the deed was done. Luckily, the system seemed to know everything. It even knew the cactus’ schedule, which was a bit creepy, but Howard didn’t think too much about it. He went about concocting the prescriptions, failing plenty of times to keep the herbs balanced, and failing plenty of times because he simply just failed. He worked all night, creating the perfect alibi. By the time he was done, it was almost time for the cactus to soak in the pond. Howard took his bottle of poison and made his way over.
***
The cactus waddled over to its new favorite pond. As a cactus, it could go long amounts of time without any water, but why would it want to do that? Once it became spiritually enlightened, its standard of living had gone up. The cactus glanced around, making sure there was no one nearby. Then, it stripped off its little loincloth, the only piece of clothing it wore. Underneath the loincloth, the patch of skin was practically no different than any other part of its body. In reality, it didn’t need the loincloth at all, but the school rules required all students to have at least one article of clothing. The cactus hopped into the pond, and roots extended out of its ball-like feet, looking much like little toes.
It greedily absorbed the nutrients inside the pond. A moment later, the cactus stiffened. Spiritual energy flooded through its body, and it directly ascended from the sixth level of qi condensation to the seventh level. For some reason, there was poison in this water! Luckily, the weird text it had been seeing had given it a cultivation technique called the Ten Thousand Poisons. It could absorb all kinds of toxins, poisons, and venoms, and break them down, turning them into spiritual energy while reinforcing the poison already flowing through its body. It wasn’t originally poisonous, but the system had given it some poison to work with to initiate the technique.
The cactus waited in the pond for a few more minutes before hopping out of the water. It wiggled its body, shaking off the remaining droplets from its legs. It stared up at the sun, and the weird bump in its torso that was its mouth broke into a smile. Not only did it get an enjoyable soak, but it also consumed a high-level poison and empowered its technique. What a great way to begin the day! As for why there was poison in the water, the cactus didn’t even think about the reason. It couldn’t be helped; as a plant, it didn’t have a brain.