The Last Surviving Alchemist Wants to Live Quietly in the City

Siegmund took him, and Marlow and Dick returned to the store on the ground floor.

While sipping the tea served, Marlow thinks.

(I didn't think the conversation would engage...)

The first discomfort was when I offered a discount myself. And then again, "Even if the price is cheaper, I'd be happier to have it used," "potions are expendable. If you need money, you can sell a lot," he repeated as if he had no greed.

The only potions in the labyrinth city are those made and stored more than 100 years ago, with a limited number. That's why it's rare and worth enough wealth.

If that's how much you can make...?

Marlow thought Mariella had a storage facility that had a large number of potions stored somewhere in the Devil's Forest. In the first place, there was no such thing. Well, let's also make a statement about leaving property in a house or money instead of a potion.

Because I can make potions.

Rare and worthy are not potions, but herself (Mariella).

Discount the potion bill, but it should help keep secrets and keep you safe.

If you just have a potion, you can let go of that potion at worst. It's the potion that's worth it and not the owner, so if you run away somewhere, you can make sure you're safe.

But what if he's an alchemist who can make potions in a labyrinth city?

Its value is immeasurable. If they find out, they'll chase you everywhere.

"Remember the contents of the contract, right?

Sieg calls out to Marlow.

"Oh, even if I remember.

"Of course as far as confidentiality is concerned, in the unlikely event that information is leaked and Mariella is endangered, the Black Iron Transport Corps will help solve the problem and, in some circumstances, even escape.

Marlow recalls that he did sign that contract.

(Oh, my God. It is not a condition that can be divided by a mere 10% fee increase.

Isn't it a talent we should attract to General Leonhardt, such as an alchemist in a labyrinth city?

But the magic contract has been signed. It should never be known that she (Mariella) is an alchemist. If they find out, it's not a problem that can be solved by the Black Iron Transport Corps (us) alone, and even if we let them escape, where should we go?

(I was hit as a maniac, does that mean...)

Drink up the cold tea and Marlow looks at Dick.

"Dick, she is…………"

"Hmm? I knew you were an alchemist.

"What? Were you aware?

"No, is that Zeke? If you weren't an alchemist, you wouldn't be able to help, would you?

Yes. He was a slave brought to die in a labyrinth city. It was a bait, to die miserably in front of the criminal slaves brought together and make them think 'I don't want to die this way'. It was arranged with Raymond the slaver. The price bargaining exchanged in front of the slaves is also just a woven act.

A body so weak that healing magic does not work on deep wounds that cannot be healed by cheap potions alone. How much is the cost of treatment? There is no first thing that treats criminal slaves that much. It would be cheaper to buy a new one. If the alchemist hadn't taken the time to treat him over and over again, he couldn't have recovered so far.

(Even Dick said he noticed, but not at all.

Mariella came into the store with a small package.

"The white potion I just gave you is an advanced specialized 'curse' potion. And this is the detoxification potion. It's an advanced rank, so if you drink it after the curse, the petrification should heal as well. This is an advanced ranked Regeneration (Regeneration) drug. If you have a long petrification time, you still have the burden after you return, so get them to drink, three days' worth. Don't bite me because it's bitter. Tell me to swallow it.

Saying so, I'll hand you the precious potion in a paper bag.

"Please take good care of yourself! Because he's quite valuable.

(Again, you don't say the amount.

I'm sure Mariella won't complain, even if she was only paid a few gold coins, Marlow thinks. I was wondering if they would sell me potions unless I could put so unfair a value on them. Instead of not knowing, but understanding, the value of your potion in this city, you will probably sell it for a normal price.

Marlow looks at Dick and thinks.

(I guess it's just like Dick. Should I be happy that it's funny)

"Mr. Mariella, General Leonhardt would like a potion.

"How many bottles?

"I'm sure you'll want a lot.

"I wonder if I have enough ingredients..."

"Can you make as many ingredients as you want?

"I'll make it as long as the magic lasts. Oh, I might not have enough potion bottles.

"The price may be lower. It may not be the same as the value of Teito's sales.

"That's fine with me.

"Mr. Mariella."

Marlow, who had been quietly in conversation, spared a moment when he called Mariella's name, staring at Mariella.

"Could you come with me, under General Leonhardt?

Leonhardt is the next peripheral uncle, the supreme power in the Labyrinth City. There's nothing safer than his protection. But Mariela thought for a while and replied:

"I want to live quietly in the city. Here, I want you to come up with a way to offer potions while you live.

I came to the labyrinth city and although it hasn't even been January, I've made a lot of acquaintances. The customer passes by like every day (in the sun). I would also like to go to the labyrinth and demon forest to collect materials. Grandpa Gark tried to take me. Thousand night moonflowers were really beautiful. It is also fun to find rare food on the market and cook and eat with Sieg.

If General Leonhardt protects you, you may no longer have to hide that you are an alchemist. Safe, cage-like place, I guess I spend every day making potions.

Mariela was remembering a cabin in the Devil's Forest. I spend only a few years alone, but in a room with no one, making potions silently by myself. I don't hate that in itself. It was originally a glaring type. It's just a rare thought. In a room that's completely dark after work, and, uh, you're alone. Even if the room is scattered, no one will clean it up, no one will be angry with me. Dine appropriately in the first place, leaving it scattered, and hang out in the bed where it remains disturbed. It feels kind of cold and it gets round and sleeps.

Mariella imagined that that was not the kind of life she was waiting for under General Leonhardt.

I like my current life.

Sieg has been a little tough lately, and picking up what's falling when he's scattering the room, he says, "Burning garbage? Slime tank trash? Which one?" Oh, my God, I'm pressing for a garbage one that hasn't been two choices, but every day is pompous and warm, including that.

to Mariella's reply. Marlow meditated for a while and thought,

"Okay. Think of some good way to do it."

I answered.

Marlow laughs in her mind. Half the time, half the time from the heart.

I'm sure there are troublesome, troublesome, difficult, and interesting things ahead of us.