After getting their gold from the auction house, they split the gold among themselves according to the contract. With that sum of money, it marked a significant shift in their lives. Orin and his dad bought a home near Phil's house instead of renting it like they used to, which provided them with stability and a sense of belonging. He also built a small laboratory there, where he could do his experiments and produce the soap. It was currently pretty empty except for the resources to make the soap, which he had gotten from Phil.
Carrying some gold with him, Mortimer also went to give one gold coin to each of his friends from the slums who had helped him in his worst time. He wanted to give and provide them with more gold, but he couldn't because it would do them more harm than good.
Inside Orin's newly built laboratory
"How many soaps did you sell?"
"I have sold two since that auction." Phil replied, glancing at Orin's notes filled with unfamiliar symbols. "What language is that?" Phil inquired curiously.
"A language that my master uses," Orin replied nonchalantly. Orin was writing ways to scale up for mass production and to optimize ingredients and refining techniques in the production process while also maintaining the quality. Since he now had the money and the manpower, he believed he could do it much more efficiently. Even though he was just a high schooler in his past life, he had probably read more books than an average person because of his hunger for knowledge and interest in science, especially biology.
So, although he didn't know exactly how to improve the soap and the efficiency of production, he knew how to research his way to it and use the knowledge that is somewhere in his brain to try improving the soap.
"Who did you sell that soap to?" Orin asked as he paused writing. They were both inside the newly built laboratory. When Orin was writing and looking stressed, amidst the lightening provided by the candle, he looked like one of those scientists of the past.
"The Mayor and Elysian Greystroke" Phil stated, "I couldn't refuse the mayor's request, and you should know Elysian. His offer was not something I could refuse."
"Lord Elysian? The mad alchemist of the town?" Orin raised an eyebrow.
"Yes, that guy. He offered 20k gold for the soap, and I couldn't really refuse." Phil explained, "He also asked me to let him meet the one who created this soap, but I refused since your identity is unknown to the public."
"Do you think he would be able to replicate the way to make the soap?" Phil asked with a hint of worry. If that mad alchemist copied how to make the soap, his whole plan would be ruined, but since 20k was a lot of gold and the recipe for the soap was made by a soap, he let temptation consume him and took the gold. But now he realized that he was foolish, and this small mistake could lead to a much bigger consequence.
"He might, but it would take a lot of time. However, there is a high chance he won't because it requires knowledge beyond the mundane world," Orin stated mysteriously.
This world had a very limited scientific understanding, and even if they investigated the soap, they would not understand the chemistry behind it. In the absence of such knowledge and resources. It would take any scientist from this world several years to decades to come up with the right combination of ingredients and method to make the soap.
Hearing Orin's words, Phil felt reassured and sighed a big breath of relief.
"When do we start mass selling the soap?" Phil asked eagerly. He was already quite content with the sum the soap brought.
"Two years at most; I'm trying to improve the soap and its production efficiency, which would take a bit of time," Orin replied. He could do it even early, but he didn't want to spend all his time improving the soap because he rather wanted to work on some other interesting project. He believed that a man is only poor when he doesn't know what is enough. Which was why he wanted to take it slow and search about magic instead of pursuing materialistic wealth.
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In the capital of Redmere Kingdom, inside a big, conspicuous mansion, there was a late teenage girl fiddling with an object that resembled the soap that was sold in the auction. It was that same soap that Orin had sold in the auction.
"This indeed does make my skin look better." The girl mused. She looked very distinctive with her red eyes and flowing red hair. If one looked closely at her body, they would see that it bore similarities to the at the auction house, which people had mistook as a mage.
She had tried to break it down and try to see how this was made, but unfortunately, she could only discern some materials and couldn't process its refining process.
"Uncle Thomas." She called for her butler.
The butler appeared promptly. "Yes, my lady?"
He had a gray beard and lightly black hair. He was one head taller than her and looked intimidating but also very professional due to the attire he was wearing.
"Go to Greyhill and investigate the person who made this thing called soap," she commanded. Thomas nodded and swiftly left the room.
"Should I ask my dad about this?" She muttered to herself. She hesitated for a moment before considering whether to involve her father but ultimately felt reluctant.
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In Greyhill, within the Oracle temple, a man was meditating inside a closed door.
*KNOCK KNOCK*
He slowly opened his eyes in irritation. "Come inside," he commanded.
"Esteemed Mage!" The man who knocked hurriedly said, "I apologize for disturbing your meditation, but I have very important and urgent news that you should know."
"What is it?" the mage asked, irritation evident in his voice. He wondered what happened that was so important in the mundane world that he had to be disturbed by his mediation.
"A businessman is selling a thing called 'soap' that apparently has magical properties of preventing people from diseases and making skin better." He replied immediately.
"Hmmm…." Although it cannot be called something magical, it was still a big deal in the mundane world. "Bring the soap and its creator." He commanded.
"Nobody knows who created this, sir." The clerk replied.
"Ask that businessman" the mage stated, "If he refuses, dont make a big scene over it and just bring the soap over."
"You may leave now." He commanded.
As silence enveloped the room again, the mage sighed. "I have been in the mundane world for so long that I barely even remember what Astralyn looks like anymore. I still have a decade before my period ends." He muttered to himself and sighed again. With that thought lingering, he closed his eyes once more and continued his meditation.