#16. Defeat

What sort of field is alchemy?

There’s a very simple and clear explanation.

Grind.

Alchemy was like one big, unending grind.

Trial and error, and re-trying. Doing it countless times.

In a word, it was an endless repetition of work.

Professor Feliana insists that talent isn’t important in alchemy.

I agree with that assertion.

Because just mixing this and that over and over can lead to something being created.

Why?

Because that’s the kind of field alchemy is.

Even so, if I were forced to name a necessary talent, it would be ‘persistence’.

The talent to not give up on something once you’ve started.

The greatest invention in alchemy, as Professor Feliana said, is the healing potion.

So, how was the first healing potion born?

The answer is, ‘by accident’.

They tossed every medicinal herb imaginable into a pot and boiled it, and at some point, it was born.

Why, you ask?

Because alchemy is that kind of discipline.

The originator of the healing potion, “Bithel Termian,” once said,

that after carelessly boiling things a few hundred times, he managed to create a medicine that heals wounds.

Again, alchemy is that kind of discipline.

“I’ll just do it now.”

Of course.

In my case, it’s a little different.

[ Outputting optimal recipe. ]

[ 5ml Clear Slime Fluid, 30ml Eternal Tree Sap, 10ml Crescent Flower Extract······. ]

I can know the ‘answer’ without bothering with tedious repetition and uncertain experiments.

Talent in alchemy is unnecessary?

That’s right.

At least, for everyone except me.

“It’s finished.”

“······What?”

I added and mixed the precise amount of ingredients the system told me.

And in less than thirty seconds, a plausible-looking healing potion was conjured up, identical in appearance to the two potions Professor Pelliana had produced.

“······How?”

Professor Pelliana looked visibly flustered.

Understandably so. She hadn’t yet revealed the potion’s proportions.

I could see her confidence wavering.

Her eyes, so confident a moment ago, now trembled. There seemed to be a peculiar sense of catharsis in that.

You know the feeling, right?

A feeling of utter release.

Like a stubborn stain being lifted away······.

Ah, this isn’t really my personality.

But Professor.

We’re not done yet.

“One more ingredient is needed here.”

“What?”

“Do you happen to have any ‘Hallucinatory Snail Mucus’?”

Professor Pelliana’s expression soured.

“You’re suggesting putting that in a healing potion?”

“Yes.”

As its name suggests, ‘Hallucinatory Snail Mucus’ is a poison. It’s a dangerous substance that causes powerful hallucinations on skin contact alone.

But there’s a saying on Earth:

“Poison, used carefully, becomes medicine.”

Of course, even with caution, poison is still poison. The idea of using poison in a healing potion is something only eccentrics would do.

And considering that any surviving eccentric probably wouldn’t use poison, the chance of finding a successful eccentric is even slimmer.

Thus, this was a recipe yet unborn.

“Are you out of your mind? That’s poison.”

“Perfectly sane, Professor. There isn’t a law in the Empire that forbids using poison in recovery potions, is there?”

The finest recovery potion invariably needed hallucinogenic snail mucus.

This was an obstinacy I could not compromise on, not if I intended to best this professor.

With a resolute expression, I repeated my demand.

“Do you have it? The hallucinogenic snail mucus.”

Professor Felliana regarded me steadily.

“I will take responsibility, should problems arise.”

Eyes that seemed to measure my sincerity. When she concluded I was not jesting, she sighed and turned towards the bookshelves.

“One wrong move and we’ll both be hallucinating. Handle it with caution.”

Her warning, born of distrust, still held a sliver of respect.

Respect for the responsibility I had so readily claimed.

And she was thinking, no doubt, that I was doomed to fail. The antidote already in her hand was testament to that.

[Add precisely half of the spoon you are holding.]

Needles to say, the antidote would remain unused.

With the utmost care, and exacting precision, I measured out the mucus. Carefully, I added it to the newly concocted recovery potion and stirred it slowly.

The color of the potion began to change.

Gradually.

Very gradually.

Becoming slightly cloudy.

“What in the world…”

Then, it brightened once more.

The final hue could only be described as ‘radiant’.

“What is it, but the golden ratio, Professor?”

Gold.

The potion, once a plain turquoise, was now a shimmering, ethereal gold.

“Snails are all blessed with regenerative abilities. The hallucinogenic snail is a species particularly adept at regeneration. And… ‘Clarified Slime Extract’ has excellent adaptive properties, and ‘Crescent Bloom Distillate’ provides a mild awakening effect.”

I swirled the potion within the glass vial, letting it shimmer.

The sight of the light dancing within was quite beautiful.

“Which neutralizes the toxicity.”

Even as I explained, Felliana’s gaze remained fixed on the potion. But she had clearly heard me, because she snapped back to attention and began her rebuttal.

“To my knowledge, hallucinogenic snail mucus possesses no healing properties. If it did, it would have been employed as an emergency treatment of some kind. But the snail’s only use is in illicit activities, like narcotics. It can never be a medicinal ingredient.”

She reached out and snatched the potion away.

“And above all, the potion’s effects have yet to be proven.”

Every criticism was valid.

From an uninformed perspective, that was the only logical conclusion.

I offered a placid smile, and replied.

“It’s only natural that the healing properties of the hallucinogenic snail are unknown. This mucus only works on organisms with an established ‘immune system’, you see.”

Here, a question will arise again.

Why then, don’t all the drug addicts feel its effects?

Before the question was asked, I answered it myself.

“I know what you’re thinking. But reconsider. The mucus of the hallucinogenic snail, no matter how much you ingest, you don’t build an immunity, do you? That’s why it’s famed as a ‘non-addictive drug.'”

“And he knows this…”

“But exceptionally, the slime-extract, and the crescent-flower extract, can play that role instead.”

I snatched the potion back.

“The effect…”

I raised my other hand and bit down with all my strength.

I felt blood seeping between my teeth.

Damn, it hurt, but I didn’t show it. More pain was yet to come.

“Wha- what are you doing…!”

Crack.

I tore it.

The bitten piece of flesh.

Damn, this hurts more than I thought.

In manga, they tear it off all the time. You know, that giant manga.

“…Watch, from now on.”

Suppressing a scream, I poured the potion on the wound.

If the previous potion healed within ten minutes,

I wondered how long this one would take.

“Hmm, all healed.”

Just under five seconds, I think.

Clean, without even lingering pain.

“There, did you see?”

I wiped away the blood that had flowed, and showed my hand, completely restored, from front to back.

“A better potion, I’ve made.”

Peliana wore a blank expression.

Unbelieving, her mouth hung open, dazed.

I wanted to laugh at her slack-jawed face, but held it back.

“What is it?”

She hadn’t spoken those words yet.

“You look like you have something to say.”

‘I admit defeat,’ that is.

“…Rain Ortiz.”

Peliana, trembling, took a step.

Slowly, one step at a time.

She was coming toward me.

And then, she asked,

“How did you know that?”

“What are you referring to?”

“Everything.”

It resonated in her trembling voice. She wasn’t grasping it, not yet.

I felt a twinge of regret… but this wasn’t a question I could answer. Could I really say I had some super-powered AI in my head?

Besides, I didn’t even want to answer her.

So, I gave the response I always gave.

“Just… somehow, it happened.”

Peliana arrived right in front of me.

Silent, unmoving.

What was this?

She was acting strangely.

“I… I…”

She bowed her head low.

“I can’t accept it…”

I heard the grinding of teeth. I could see her tightly clenched fist quivering.

It felt wrong to say, but it was undeniably the behavior of a loser.

Then, something fell to the floor.

For a moment, I thought I’d bitten my lip so hard it was bleeding.

“Oops.”

That wasn’t it.

“Could it be…”

Peliana was crying.

“Wow, she’s really crying…”

No.

I never thought she’d show tears, even like this.

It seemed she had more pride than I’d anticipated.

I sighed and patted her back.

Then, I said, “Even so, you have to admit you lost.”

“…”

Professor.

Where are you squeezing out those tears from?

It won’t work on me.

“I, I…”

Peliana Mireon collapsed to the ground.

And then, in a voice barely audible, she said.

“I lost…”