Orion dropped down the trapdoor into a tunnel.

The surrounding walls were earthen, decorated by ornate-looking torches with opaque crystals attached to the tips. He squinted, seeing the small crystals were the source of the artificial light that lit the tunnel, each individual rock giving off an extraordinary amount of light.

The path stretched on for about fifty meters before opening into a gigantic room. A soft red glow leeched out into the tunnel, clawing its way from the room and towards Orion.

Dave was already halfway toward the opening, moving down the tunnel with a speed that belied his age.

Orion ran to catch up with him.

“Where are we going?”

“We’re going to see my brother,” Dave replied. “If anyone can help you make something out of that item, it’s him.”

They emerged from the tunnel into the room the red light was coming from.

Giant glass vats of red liquid stood lined up against the far wall, tubes interconnecting and running the viscous liquid between them. Lines of tables filled the center of the room, all of which were covered in different scientific equipment.

Most of the tables were in use, distilling different liquids into vials through complicated contraptions of glass and metal. He recognized the vials as the same container that the health potion Honeypot consumed earlier had been in.

Wooden beams and poles were used to reinforce the bare-earth walls and ceiling of the room. The wooden structures in place made it seem like a temporary setup, but all the scientific equipment appeared as though it had been in use for years, if not decades. The entire room looked like the lab of a stereotypical mad scientist from a children’s movie. Orion was half expecting Dave’s brother to turn around in a leather chair, stroking a cat so ugly it was almost cute.

Dave lead him to his brother, and instead of a mad scientist, he found a man that was the spitting image of Dave. The man sat at a table in a corner of the room, looking over papers at a large desk and muttering to himself.

“Carl! I’ve brought someone to see you. He’s got something that might actually interest you.”

Carl let out a sigh and sat up from his papers, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands.

“I seriously doubt anyone in this godforsaken town could interest me,” he said in a voice just as gritty but deeper than Dave’s.

“Carl, is it?” Orion asked. “So, can I take it you’re the brains behind ‘Concoctions by Carl’?”

“Aye, I’m the concoctions guy.” Carl waved his hand toward his brother. “He’s the people person.”

Orion looked over at Dave, who had already forgotten of Orion’s existence, and was leaning against a table, studiously picking his bellybutton.

Riiight, he thought, stepping forward and holding out Merv’s Good Eye.

“I received a quest from this item. It asked me to find an Alchemist with the skill to process it.”

Carl turned around, examining the item.

“A quest item, huh? I suppose that might be worth my time, for the right price—” Carl’s eyes bugged out as he read the item description. “Where, uh, where did you get this?”

The aged Alchemist fought to obscure his emotions, but flashes of greed and desire etched themselves across his face. Carl sighed and shook his head, giving up on any pretense of indifference.

“Let me work with this, lad. I’ll do it free of charge. I’m the best, no, the only person in this town that can process this item into a true Potion of Dark Vision for you.”

“Not so fast.” Orion pulled his hand back with the item in it. “A potion of what-now? What’s in it for you? I receive the item after you’ve made it, so why would you want to process it?”

“A Potion of Dark Vision. You don’t understand, lad. The experience the crafter would get for refining this into the aforementioned potion is staggering. To advance in crafting in this world, one needs to prove their worth. The tiers of all crafters are Apprentice, Journeyman, Expert, and Master. Someone at the bottom of a tier and someone at the peak of a tier can be worlds apart, so they are further broken down by a number system, zero being the lowest and ten being the highest.

“When one reaches the peak of a tier, in order to break through the threshold into the next tier, the crafter needs to prove themselves worthy. They do this by gaining a large amount of experience in one go, performing a feat that proves to the System they are worthy. Breaking through to a new tier also grants an ability from the System. For an alchemist like myself that’s stuck at the peak of Journeyman ten, the item you have there is just what is needed.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“I’m on the brink of ascending to Expert, and have been for years. Your item there, and the potion I would make for you with it, would likely be that push I’ve been waiting for all these years.”

“I see,” Orion said, a plan forming in his mind. “I have one more request for you, then.”

“Oh? And what’s that?”

“I’d like to watch you make the potion.”

“And why’s that?”

Carl squinted at Orion in suspicion.

“My eyes may be old, but even I can tell you look exhausted. It’ll take me most of, if not the whole the night, to process and distill this item—even then it isn’t a guarantee. You’re that desperate to miss a night’s sleep?”

“Here’s the thing, Carl…” Orion let out a weary sigh. “I just arrived in this world yesterday. Despite my late arrival, I found a team of three other adventurers, but none of us have a healing ability. If witnessing you attempt to make this potion and break through into the next tier of Alchemy gives me even a glimpse of the profession, I think that could be extremely beneficial to my team. I don’t see our lack of a healer changing any time soon, and I would gladly trade a night’s worth of sleep for some insight into Alchemy.”

“Sorry, lad, but I’m not looking for students.”

“That’s fine. I only want to watch. I’m happy to help with anything, or simply stay out of the way. It’s entirely up to you, but if you want to use this item, I will be here to watch—understand?”

Carl cast his penetrating eyes over him. Just as Orion was feeling the need to say something stupid in order to break the silence, Carl spoke.

“Fine. We start now. Go get me ten vials of the red liquid over on that shelf.”

Orion ran to obey, rushing over to the shelf that Carl had pointed out. Before he even made it to the shelf, however, Carl yelled out to him.

“Stop!”

Orion turned to see a furious look on the man’s face.

“This isn’t a race. I won’t have you running around my lab like a babe in a field of tits. There are compounds in this room that could cause half the town to go up in a mushroom cloud. Don’t be hasty; be precise and exacting.

“If I see you rushing again and risking our work, I’ll drag you out of here before you can blink. That’s if you don’t scatter our remains from here to the southern gate by triggering an explosion.”

Sufficiently chastised, Orion walked toward the shelf and grabbed ten of the vials before returning them to the table Carl was behind. Carl had chosen a workspace with a scientific apparatus that looked as though it had already been cleaned. He was scouring it again with a cloth and a harsh smelling chemical anyway, looking each component over with a sure eye before moving onto the next.

“Can I assume you’ve noticed that there aren’t any open flames down here, and that we use magical sources of light and heat, kid?” Carl asked, not bothering to take his eyes off his task.

“I have, yes.”

“And why do you think that is?”

“So that we don’t have our remains scattered from here to the southern gate?”

“Heh. Clever, but that’s half correct. There wouldn’t be a southern gate left if it was a flame that started an explosion here.”

Despite Carl playing the comment off as a joke, Orion suspected it was worryingly close to the truth.

“Are questions okay?” Orion asked.

“If you have any questions, get them out of the way now. Once I start the actual process of brewing the potion, don’t speak to me unless I speak to you. The smallest distraction could ruin the entire process. That would be bad for you, and disastrous for me. I’ll need you to turn off your notifications, too. We can’t afford you getting distracted.”

“Wait… you can turn them off?”

Carl let out a snort in response.

“Just will them to pause. You can filter out specific events, but right now, I need them all off. Every single one. Are they teaching you kids nothing?”

Orion paused his notifications with a slight use of will, feeling like an idiot for what must be the tenth time today.

Given permission to speak for now, Orion asked all manner of questions about Alchemy while Carl finished cleaning the equipment.

“What’s the chemical you’re using to clean the equipment?”

“An alcohol infused with magic. It kills any lingering biological or magical traces.”

“What are the steps to creating this potion?”

“There are three steps to most alchemical concoctions—can you get me that pouch of white powder over there? No, the second shelf—yeah, that one.”

As Orion peppered the man with questions, Carl continued to request ingredients and components from around the room.

“The first step,” Carl said, “is combining. It’s as simple as it sounds, lad—you combine the core ingredients of the concoction you’re crafting.”

Orion carefully walked to grab a handful of bat wings as Carl continued.

“The second step is brewing. It sounds simple lad, but the method and timing of each ingredient is vital. This step is when we add the secondary ingredients you’re gathering now. See the drawers over there by the stack of stands? Second drawer, pouch of purple powder.”

Orion walked calmly to retrieve the pouch.

“How do you know what ingredients to use?”

“A bit of trial and error, lad—mostly, though, you need to listen to the needs and wants of the concoction.”

“How am I supposed to know what the concoction needs?”

“By listening to it.” Carl shrugged. “It’s one of those things you need to experience to understand.”

Guess I’ll have to take the eccentric alchemist’s word for it…

“The last step is distilling.”

Carl started lining up the ingredients gathered in a chaotic manner that made little sense.

“There are two things you can do during the distilling stage—hope and pray.” He cocked his head. “Actually, there’s a third—you can be ready to run. Either your hard work will be rewarded, or your mistakes will be punished.”

Orion nodded along.

“Makes sense.”

He looked at the veritable trove of ingredients gathered on the table, raising an eyebrow.

“Are you going to use all of these? It seems a lot…”

“I doubt it, but you never know what the concoction is going to demand, and it never hurts to be prepared. Remember that, lad.”

When he finished speaking, Carl closed his eyes and became completely still.

Suspecting Carl would start soon, Orion asked his most burning question.

“You said you weren’t looking for another student. I respect that, but if I did want to learn Alchemy, how would I do so?”

Carl’s eyes opened with a look of sheer intensity.

“It’s time, kid. Question time is over. Pass me the eye and we can get started.”

Orion pulled ‘Merv’s Good Eye’ out of his inventory and made to pass it to Carl, but the alchemist grabbed his wrist and stared up into his eyes.

Carl radiated a surprising amount of pressure, considering he had the stature of a goblin.

“Remember, kid… no talking unless I tell you to, and do exactly as I say until this is finished. I’ve waited a long time for this opportunity, so don’t make me regret letting you sit in.”

Orion set his jaw and nodded his agreement.

“I’m ready.”

Carl grabbed the eye and gave Orion a brilliant smile filled with potential.

“Let us begin.”