The day after Mahapadma’s second raid, the Agni Clan organised the funeral for Ivan and Selena. As per the rules, the Association had already declared the two dead two months after the first raid. But Lucas declined to accept that decision.
In fact, he had ripped up the death certificate in the Association President’s face. Just thinking about the time made Adrian's head throb.
For today, he placed his feelings aside and held his daughter, a small thing, barely two years old, in front of Ivan’s portrait. On the platform, full of lilies, carnations, and roses. He placed a box of Reese’s Pieces. The old man enjoyed it even when he had a peanut allergy. It would help build up resistance, he used to say.
“Uncle, this is Seema.” Adrian introduced his daughter. She seemed more interested in the flashes going on behind them, peeking over his shoulder. But his eyes looked forward. “As you guessed, she got her mother’s face, but my eyes and nose… I…”
Unable finish his words, he looked at Lucas. He was handling the representative from other guilds, wearing a suit for the first time, and those big glasses to hide his eyes. Adrian felt his own eyes sting a little. Maybe because he had grown older, he tended to feel more emotional. The old man had predicted that too.
“Thank you for raising me, thank you for giving me the chance to hold my child.” He bowed to the picture and moved along, giving Brima a chance.
A little distance from Ivan was Selena’s picture, Adrian left the bouquet of her favourite flowers, and the vodka. As pretty as she was, she had more vodka than water in a day; they even joked that she had more vodka in her body than blood.
Sae sat near there, out of it; he seemed drunk. He never drank before.
With the ever-increasing number of camera flashes, Adrian sent his wife and daughter home. It had been a year and a half since he stepped down as the vice guild master. Partially because he had to take care of his newborn child, mostly because he couldn’t continue anymore.
He had already planned to ease up after the Mahapadma raid, but the way he left made him feel bitter. Even more so when Lucas was so understanding of it. At the time, he knew Lucas wasn’t stable; it showed in the news and his actions.
But he seems rather grown up today. Adrian looked at him talking with the people from the Association; he seemed very calm. That was until Lucas spotted him.
“Yo, pudgy unc.” He ran over, shouting annoyingly.
“Hope truly is cruel,” Adrian muttered under his breath.
“Hey now, these vultures have been annoying me all day. Lemme joke around a little.” Lucas whined; he seemed more childish today.
But he had to agree, a lot of reporters had gathered. Most of them just wanted a story; Ares had fed them well. Leaking rift info was a sensitive topic, but he didn’t blame the man in this incident.
“Someone talking about me?” Ares butted in, full black suit, and was a head taller than Adrian. Even though it was a funeral, this man was sparkling like it was a celebrity dinner.
“Is this what they call an attention whore?” Lucas whispered.
“Maybe look in a mirror sometimes?” Ares rolled his eyes, and Adrian could only agree with that.
“Why are you here anyway?” Lucas changed the subject, elbow on Adrian’s shoulder.
“About the Rift, it wasn’t an SS-Rank, right?” Ares lowered his voice so no one else could hear him, especially people from the Association. “That witch, she lied about the ranking to get quick help, didn’t she?”
“No point whispering, she’ll hear about what you said,” Lucas said.
“Has her network expanded till here?” Ares looked around, checking every door and window in the hall.
“No No, I’ll tell her.” Lucas smiled.
“Huh?” Ares malfunctioned for a moment. Adrian couldn’t blame him.
“Me.” Lucas wagged his finger and pointed at himself. “I’ll tell her that you called her a witch.”
“…” Ares glanced at Adrian, but he could only shrug.
“Anyway, it’s not a lie that Mahapadma was exaggerated to SS-Rank status, but it holds some truth. The rift was growing unstable, so measuring its rank wasn’t easy, plus the danger to the country if it did break,” Lucas added. “But the biggest danger in that rift wasn’t the boss or monsters, but the environment inside the rift. An environment that justifies the re-evaluation.”
“That cold, huh?” Ares nodded, even though he hadn’t faced it for long because of Lucas. He seemed to understand.
Adrian’s arm still stung; the memory wasn’t a pleasant one for him. He had lost an arm, his father figure, and his sister that day. But it also reminded him how much of a blessing Johan’s potions were this time.
And, no doubt, Ares understood that too.
“That potion you lot drank.” He threaded in the real reason he had even bothered to show up today. “Where did you get that from?”
Olympus was a clan five times the size of Agni, both in Hunters and in backing. They held the EU in their palms. However, Adrian believed that this was a personal interest from Ares; the news about Johan’s potions had only spread in the capital and the areas around it.
“That’s a question I’d like an answer to as well, if you don’t mind.” A genial voice cut in.
Adrian turned to see a short man, short relative to them. He was an average guy with an average build, a simple suit, and black-framed glasses, with 70-30-part black hair. His presence matched his looks, average. Easy to overlook even. But the man wasn’t that small in status.
“If it isn’t the Black Moon himself.” Lucas threw his arms around the awkward fellow, who could only laugh in mild embarrassment. “Never thought I’d see the day I hold information that the leader of the most notorious information-gathering guild doesn’t have.” He seemed proud of that.
“I must say I have been lacking lately.” Black Moon adjusted his glasses. “So, if it isn’t too expensive, I’d like to buy that information.”
The fact that he had reached here already said enough. Black Moon, he knew his way around the back alleys and shadows. But the fact that he couldn’t find Johan seemed to worry Adrian.
How deeply was that guy’s supply chain hidden?
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“Let’s not talk about money between us.” Lucas patted the man’s shoulder, a smile tugging at his lips. “Let’s just call it an exchange.”
“That seems reasonable.” Black Moon showed his sharp smile, drying his sweaty palms. “I prefer it that way.”
He could see the plot already. He already knew that hiding Johan was like covering the sun; his potions held that much value in the Hunter world. So, Lucas and Adrian had agreed on something before the funeral. A plan to shoot Johan’s potions into the limelight.
“I am sure you’ve heard of this potion shop in Sector A that’s been popping lately,” Lucas smirked, taking out the last remaining healing potion. The effects written on the paper tag wrapped around the bottle’s neck. “I got this beauty from there, along with the ice resistance potion, made to order.”
Adrian could see the switch in Ares and Black Moon’s eyes. The colour and appearance of the potion was one thing, but the effects, if Adrian hadn’t experienced and seen it himself, he wouldn’t believe it either.
Till this point, only Cara, Lucas, and Adrian knew of this potion. He had imposed a gag order on the team that saw Cara use it. And, Johan seemed more occupied with the lower to mid-ranked hunters these days, so he hadn’t sold this to anyone else.
Now, that potion was about to make a debut on the main stage.
Although he felt sorry for putting Johan on the spot. But in the Hunter world, there was no bigger blessing than being in the limelight.
And Johan’s potions had just left the world’s blind spot.
***
In the alley behind the mart, there was a small area hidden from the sun, a single lane for gathering trash and cardboard. Most of the shops nearby had kept the place a bit messy. Boxes thrown around, leaky dustbins missing their hoods, and the rotting stench. But Johan made it a point to clean the space attached to the mart every day.
Because he didn’t want to get shit from the Association’s health inspector, who dropped by irregularly, but also for the dozen or so cats that gathered there on the regular.
The reason for the cats was none other than his boss, Morgan. The woman kept a separate budget in each Mart for feeding stray cats; it fit her personality. And Johan himself didn’t mind the incarnations of cuteness and danger hanging around. Over time, they had become a way to soothe him after long, weary days in the mart.
The strays that hung out here when he started had long passed on; the current ones were their kids, the ones he had seen grow up. Every day, he left several large bowls full of cat food, and he’d find them empty by morning, not a speck left. There was never enough food for the cats as their numbers just kept growing, but they never complained, at least.
However, Johan decided to use the money in his account now. The first thing he had used it for was cat food; the thought alone made him laugh as he bought boxes of good-quality cat food. Happy that, for once, the cats might have enough supper to go around.
If only there weren’t these vultures stalking the place. Johan grimaced. He spotted the camera angled down from the neighbouring roof.
Two days had passed since the swarm of reporters. At first, they came into the mart, asking questions and whatnot about the mysterious alchemist who made the potions Lucas White used in Mahapadma. It took a while for them to understand that the employees did not know, so they started hawking the alleys, trying to catch anyone entering or leaving.
So far, they had only caught the distressed Eugene and annoyed Johan to no end. They were smart enough to be at a distance, so he couldn’t report them for disrupting business.
Though he felt amused by imagining what sort of expression they’d make when they realized that the mysterious alchemist stood right before them. That thought had helped him get through the days.
But he lost it when their presence deterred the cats from coming by. Johan suffered from cat withdrawals, a severe case it was. He wanted to punch their camera lenses into their faces, but he held back; the cameramen were packing too much muscle for no damn reason.
Wasn’t the reporter meta leaning on a sleek and slim build? Why was everyone macho now? Johan could only shake his head, waiting. He waited for the lone cat warrior that wasn’t scared of these clowns, a cat hero risen from the bowels of cat hell. Or should he say a Feline Queen?
Just as the clock ticked 3, she arrived in the alley, smacking the reporter with her fluffy tail. The six-foot-tall guy jumped high, like a scared little girl.
By height, she wasn't taller than a normal cat, but her presence was bigger than any bodybuilder the world had ever seen. Her snow-white fur stood out against the black alley, not a speck of dirt on the pristine coat.
With a walk that could mesmerize any supermodel, she stopped in front of Johan. Her ocean blue eyes narrowing.
Where’s my food servant? He could hear that in her low purr as she bared her fangs.
“Here you go, Misty.” Johan laid the bowl, a special one with her name on it. Half of the cat food budget was usually spent on this cat’s food, cause apparently, she only ate a specific brand, the damned Hermes of cat food.
Morgan had spoiled her too much, and Johan couldn’t complain. Just watching the little thing eat, as royally as a cat could, he felt the burden on his chest lighten.
Although a cat, Misty was a mini version of a snow leopard, just pure white.
Was it Pointy? Johan recalled the breed’s name; the name was quite funny, but the reason wasn’t. People named the breed pointy because they didn’t leave behind pawmarks, just points.
As obvious as it was, she wasn’t a breed from Earth. Misty’s proud ancestor had come through a rift with the mages of Mage Tower. After settling here, that male cat, just like any last male of its species, went on a rampage.
Misty was the result of that rampage.
Why was he wasting time on trivial info? Though he wanted to pet her as he did with normal cats when they ate, past experiences had taught him otherwise.
So, like a good gentleman, Johan waited until Misty finished her meal. She seemed satisfied from the way she licked her paws, closing her eyes with a small sneer.
“You are such a handful.” Taking the sign, Johan scratched misty behind the ear. As always, she let out a purr of acknowledgment and licked his fingers as he touched her chin, eyes still closed.
She seemed in a good mood today. Johan could’ve gotten to brush that fluffy, smooth tail, but the cameras killed the mood. The feline queen started her march back, probably to get some sleep in her royal quarters somewhere.
Slipping back into the Mart, he entered his room and collapsed on the bed. Pulling the shades to hide from the reporter next door, trying to act like he was drying clothes.
I see the damn camera around your neck, fool. Johan sighed. Good thing he had moved everything in Phantasia and changed the apparatus in the basement workshop with new ones. Even if someone broke in, they wouldn’t find a trace of the potions or the maker.
It was a relief that they couldn’t trace the potions to him for now. He didn’t rely on the Alchemist Association for sales or materials, not to mention that his production was self-sufficient. But there was a weak point in that chain, the place of business.
For now, Johan could only produce enough to sell at the mart where he worked. That made it a single point of focus; with so many eyes watching, someone would catch the inconsistency.
The inconsistency being that no one delivered potions to the mart, before long, they’d theorize that someone inside the mart brewed the potions. And the one who stayed here the entire time was Johan.
So, he came up with a plan last night. A plan to expand the number of marts that sold his potions. He wanted to supply the potions for the entire Morgan Hunter Mart Chain.
Easier said than done. He shook his head, but hadn’t lost hope. The entire plan hinged upon his brewing skill. With each level, the brewing time lowered a little, and the volume increased by a little.
Thanks to that, Johan had already shortened the brewing time by 10 minutes from the initial one hour per potion, it would only go down when he upgraded the skill after it reached lv. 10. As for bottling, he planned to get a bottling machine with Morgan’s help. Good old smuggling, hehe.
But wouldn’t that make this mart even more of a center for attention? The potions would go out from here; they'd catch on that, too.
“I gotta figure this thing out soon.” With his rest done, Johan jumped to his feet. But before he could open the door to his room, he felt a prickling sensation on his neck. Like someone had held a dagger against his bare skin.
Covered in cold sweat, he turned around like a cranky machine. He swore he could feel eyes on his body, eyes that saw through the curtains on his window.
When the curtains moved and the sunlight poured in, Johan only found a pigeon on the ledge. Startled by his eyes, the poor thing flapped away.
Leaving Johan alone in the chill and a blue window from the system.
[Conditions met. Skill Danger Sense, acquired.]
Looking at the mechanical, cold screen, he could only gulp as he saw a Rolls-Royce pull up in front of the Mart.
Lucas had arrived again.
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