The crowd’s jaws collectively hit the ground. Merilyn’s serene composure vanished, replaced by a glare that could freeze the sun. “Change your terms,” she hissed, her voice low and dangerous.

“Agree or don’t—it’s up to you.” Asmon shrugged nonchalantly and turned to leave.

“Stop!” Merilyn Snow ’s icy tone rang out as she dashed forward, reaching for him. But Asmon was quicker, his Almost Great Step propelling him a good distance away.

Merilyn Snow ’s eyes narrowed. “A gold rank martial skill... at the Imperial Qi Realm?” she muttered, impressed despite herself.

Asmon smirked. “As expected of a top genius. Your eyes are sharp.”

Her frosty glare returned, but before she could respond, he added, “Listen, it’s not such a bad deal. Follow me, and I promise the rewards will be endless. One day, you might even feel lucky to stay by my side.”

The crowd erupted into laughter.

“Did this guy just ask Merilyn to work for him'?”

“Haha! He’s so full of himself, it’s almost inspiring.”

Yet, against all expectations, Merilyn didn’t lash out. Instead, she studied Asmon with a mixture of exasperation and curiosity. Finally, she let out a soft sigh, her tone calm but resolute. “Alright. I agree. But you’d better keep your word.”

The crowd fell silent, their disbelief almost tangible.

“She… she actually agreed?” someone whispered.

Asmon grinned triumphantly. “Trust me, you won’t regret it.”

Merilyn Snow —a legendary beauty and the second-ranked genius on the prestigious Silvercrest Genius List—was now a maid? And not just anyone’s maid, but that of a mere outer branch student? The kind of student who might be mistaken for a passing delivery boy on a good day? The crowd struggled to process this unholy union of absurdity and reality.

Asmon, unfazed by the collective brain malfunction surrounding him, gave her a rare, reassuring smile. “Stick with me, and I’ll help you escape the shackles of your Lunar Destiny Physique. Soon, you’ll soar higher than you ever dreamed.”

Merilyn Snow nodded, the picture of serenity, though inside, she was conducting a detailed risk analysis. The Lunar Destiny Physique—a ticking time bomb in her own flesh—would awaken fully in less than a year, just nine months shy of her seventeenth birthday. If Asmon couldn’t deliver on his promise, the consequences wouldn’t just be a nasty Yelp review; she’d fall into a sleep so deep even Prince Charming wouldn’t dare try to wake her.

To entrust her fate to Asmon was risky. Insane, even. But if it meant chasing her ambitions rather than succumbing to grim destiny, well, desperate times, desperate measures. The spectators, meanwhile, were doing their best impersonation of gaping fish. 'What black magic had Asmon used to make Merilyn agree to something so... ludicrous?'

With Merilyn Snow quietly trailing him, Asmon casually strolled back to Courtyard 20 in the A-class student Dormitory like he hadn’t just flipped the academy’s social hierarchy on its head.

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“Clean up the courtyard,” he said as they arrived, gesturing vaguely. “After that, pick any room you like. Mi casa es su casa.” (this is spanish saying of My house is your house)

Merilyn’s brow twitched, but her tone remained calm. “When will you help me refine the Solarflare Pill?”

“Refining it isn’t the hard part,” Asmon said breezily. “Finding the ingredients is. The pill needs blood essence from a sixth-grade fire-attribute beast. You wouldn’t happen to have any lying around, would you?”

She sighed, the kind of sigh one gives when realizing their new boss is just as unprepared as they feared. “No. But I know someone in Silvercrest Martial Institute who might.”

“Oh?” Asmon perked up. “Who?”

“Jack Quinn,” she said, her voice carrying a hint of reverence.

“Jack?” Asmon’s eyes lit up. “The sixth-rank alchemy master who once led a group to hunt a wounded Crimson Flame Phoenix?”

Merilyn Snow nodded. “Over a decade ago, Master Jack ambushed the beast with warriors from the Avalon Empire. he may still have its blood essence.”

“Crimson Flame Phoenix, eh?” Asmon mused. “A sixth-rank beast with traces of divine blood. Now 'that' is premium-grade material.”

Merilyn suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. “We’ll see him tomorrow.”

The next morning, after a quiet breakfast, Asmon and Merilyn made their way, Jack’s secluded abode deep within Silvercrest Martial Institute. The place was so isolated it felt like stepping into a different realm, one where even gossip didn’t dare venture.

As they approached, the unguarded gate loomed before them. They stepped inside cautiously, only to be greeted by a sharp, irritated voice. “Who are you, and what are you doing here? Get lost!”

They turned to see a young man glaring at them. Clad in the distinctive robes of an alchemist, he looked every bit the part of someone who thought he was better than you—and maybe everyone else too. A shiny two-star badge on his chest screamed 'second-rank alchemist,' while his expression screamed 'underpaid bouncer.'

Asmon offered a polite nod. “Greetings, brother. I’m Asmon. I’d like to meet Master Jack. Could you inform her of my arrival?”

The young man’s face darkened at the name. “'You’re' Asmon?” he sneered.

Blake Sullivan, the young man in question, had heard plenty about this so-called genius recently. Senior Sister Sophia had returned singing praises of this upstart outer branch student. And now here he was, waltzing in like he already owned the place.

“Master Jack doesn’t just see random nobodies,” Blake Sullivan snapped. “He’s busy with Senior Sister Sophia. You should leave before you embarrass yourself.”

Asmon frowned. “You didn’t even check if he’s available. How do you know he won’t see me?”

Blake rolled his eyes with theatrical flair. “Do you even understand who Master Jack is? He doesn’t waste time on unqualified amateurs. If you’re so eager, prove you’re worth his attention.”

“Oh?” Asmon’s lips curved into a sly grin. “And how would I do that?”

With a smirk, Blake pulled out a scroll. “This is an ancient, incomplete pill recipe. Complete it. If you can, I 'might' think about letting you see Master Jack.”

Asmon raised an eyebrow, taking the scroll. “This recipe... is incomplete. Even Master Jack hasn’t solved it yet?”

Blake Sullivan snickered. “What do you think?”

Asmon scanned the formula. The Maga system kicked in, unraveling the pill’s structure in Asmon’s mind like a puzzle assembling itself. Within moments, he grasped it all—the problem, the solution, and the sheer audacity of whoever attempted this formula in the first place.

[You’ve analyzed an incomplete Fourth-Tier rank-Extending Pill. Comprehension amplified, understanding accelerated, formula perfected. Mastered the complete Fourth-Tier rank-Extending Pill]

Blake Sullivan misread Asmon’s silence entirely and smirked, his tone oozing condescension. “Well? Was this too much for you? Or are you just stalling because you can’t do it?”

Asmon’s lips quirked up in amusement, his eyes sparkling like someone holding an ace in a high-stakes poker game. “Not only can I finish this formula, but I could show you what a 'real' Life-Extending Pill should look like. And about meeting Master Jack? Let’s get one thing straight—I don’t need your permission. If I wanted, I could have him out here in less than a minute.”

The smirk on Blake Sullivan’s face vanished, replaced by an icy glare. “You little—are you here to cause trouble? This is no place for arrogant novices like you. Get out before you regret it.”

Asmon tilted his head, bemused by the melodrama. “Regret? Me?”