Chapter 44: Alchemical Business Empire, Pure-Blood Dragon Race
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It had to be said that, under the threat of the Three-Corpse Brain-Devouring Elixir, the newly subjugated group of Black men had thoroughly demonstrated what it meant to take the initiative.
In barely half a day, they had neatly arranged all the materials Leon required before him.
It was not that none of them had secretly gone to the hospital for an examination. The results had invariably shown that nothing was wrong—which only frightened them more.
The Black gang leader cautiously addressed the young man sitting cross-legged on the sofa, seemingly asleep.
“Sir, we’ve brought everything you asked for.”
At that, Leon stopped circulating his energy and opened his eyes.
He looked at the assortment of metals before him, every imaginable kind mixed together, as well as the bloodstained lizard hide that had clearly been stripped only moments ago. The corner of his eye twitched.
Forget it. He really could not expect much from these men.
It was not that the materials were unusable. They would simply reduce the chances of a successful refinement, and the finished product would probably be far weaker than it ought to be.
But none of that mattered. After all, Leon was not going to wear it himself.
“Everyone else, get out. You stay.”
Upon hearing this, the tattooed Black man nearly burst into tears. He had no idea what the Asian sorcerer before him intended to do.
Whatever it was, it certainly would not be anything good.
Leon had kept the tattooed man behind precisely because he wanted to display a little of his supernatural ability. Relying on the Three-Corpse Brain-Devouring Elixir alone was not entirely reliable.
Then, beneath the tattooed man’s terrified gaze, Leon began engraving the transmutation array for the Scales of Garros on the floor.
The Black man knew nothing about alchemy. All he could think was that this Asian was conducting some kind of wicked ritual.
As for the metal and lizard hide placed in the center of the array...
That was simple. They were sacrifices!
The more the tattooed man thought about it, the more convinced he became that he was right.
By then, Leon had finished engraving the array. As he pressed his palms against its edge, a blinding red light suddenly illuminated the room.
Bang—
Dense black smoke slowly rose from the center of the array.
[Failed alchemical operation completed. Profession experience +14.]
At the sight of this, Leon’s heart sank.
It failed...
He stepped forward and stirred the black residue scattered across the floor, sinking into thought.
Was it because the metals were too impure? Or could lizard hide not be used?
Beside him, the tattooed Black man’s heart leapt into his throat.
It really was some kind of sacrificial ritual!
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Only, judging by the look of things, it seemed to have failed...
Just as he stood there in growing unease, Leon suddenly spoke.
“Same requirements as before. This time, however, the metal must all be of the same type.”
The tattooed man hurriedly agreed.
“Yes, sir!”
With that, he fled the room as though his life depended on it.
Before long, the materials Leon had requested once again appeared before him.
This time, the Black gang had provided the cheapest metal in modern society: iron. It had even undergone only the most basic smelting.
Clearly, after witnessing Leon’s first transmutation, the gang leader had come to regard him completely as an evil practitioner of witchcraft.
Once the materials had been gathered, Leon began his second alchemical operation.
As the blinding red light flared once more, an appropriate notification appeared on his profession panel.
[Alchemical item successfully created. Profession experience +32.]
Seeing this, Leon could not help shaking his head. The experience granted by the Scales of Garros—the pauper’s edition—was a full half less than that of the youthful edition.
Still, as long as the transmutation succeeded, it was a good thing.
When the Black man saw that a close-fitting soft armor had appeared in the center of the array, his eyes nearly bulged from their sockets.
“Oh my God!”
“A gift from God!”
In his eyes, Leon had just completed a sacrifice and successfully received a blessing from the divine.
Otherwise, how could a suit of soft armor have suddenly appeared on the floor?
Leon could not be bothered to correct his misunderstanding. If anything, it was beneficial to him.
He stepped forward, picked up the Scales of Garros—the pauper’s edition—and carefully ran his fingers over it.
Then Leon picked up the Glock 17 from the coffee table and fired a shot at the armor.
Bang—
A tiny fracture appeared on the Scales of Garros—the pauper’s edition. Its strength was clearly far inferior to that of the youthful edition.
Good enough. It should be sufficient to fool those wealthy people.
With that thought, a smile spread across Leon’s face. He tossed the defective item to the tattooed Black man.
“This one is yours. Continue searching for materials as instructed.”
The tattooed man stared at the soft armor in his hands, its surface gleaming with a dark luster. His heart began to pound. He had naturally witnessed what had just happened.
“Yes, sir!”
Seeing that the man’s enthusiasm had been stirred up, Leon was not surprised.
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Although the method of giving someone a beating before offering them a sweet reward was crude, that did not stop it from being highly effective.
This group of Black men probably would not resist his demands anytime soon. All he had to do now was wait for the materials to arrive, complete the transmutations, and sell the products. That would allow his Artisan Apprentice experience to rise rapidly.
The only question was, how should he find a way to sell them?
At that thought, Leon fell into deep contemplation.
...
Just as Leon was envisioning his alchemical business empire, a little-known major incident took place in the rainforests of Mexico.
A young man dressed as an explorer was comparing a hand-drawn map with the surrounding terrain.
“This should be the place. But why can’t I see the ancient tomb of the Teotihuacan civilization mentioned in the intelligence?”
The young man was a second-year student at Cassel College. He had come to this desolate rainforest in Mexico to complete his summer assignment:
The relationship between ancient civilizations and dragons.
According to the information he had purchased from the Hunters’ Network, there was an ancient tomb belonging to the Teotihuacan civilization somewhere near his current location.
Unfortunately, as far as he could see, there was nothing but dense forest.
“Never mind. I’ll try using an alchemical device. Good thing I managed to sneak one out of the college.”
The young man set his backpack on the ground, then took out a spherical device resembling sonar.
After operating it for a while, the sphere began to tremble faintly.
But just then, a barely perceptible roar came from beneath the earth.
Roar—
At first, the young man thought he had imagined it. He remained where he was, waiting for the device to finish powering up.
Only when a sharp claw suddenly pierced through the ground in the distance did he realize that the sound had not been a hallucination.
“Damn it! Why is there a pure-blooded dragon in this tomb?!”
The young man stared at the scene before him in stunned disbelief. Then he snatched up his backpack and ran toward the direction from which he had come.
He decided that, if he survived, he would certainly leave that information broker a glowing review.
Meanwhile...
In Brooklyn, New York, a somewhat disheveled young man inexplicably sneezed and muttered, “Who’s talking about me...?”
As he spoke, he took a sip of the Coca-Cola beside him, then continued playing StarCraft on the computer in front of him.
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