Dunn Smith's gray eyes bore into Klein's with an intensity that held them both in silence for a full minute. The weight of that silence, coupled with Dunn's unyielding gaze, was palpable. Klein, however, did not falter. He returned Dunn's look with steady resolve.
Finally, Dunn spoke, his voice low and without inflection. "You do realize that once you consume the potion, there's no going back. There will be no second chances."
Klein gave a slight smile. "I understand, but I trust the voice within me."
He knew "Sleepless" didn't fit his needs. From what he'd gathered in the Tarot gathering, "Audience" didn't either. Other extraordinary paths were still far from his reach and not suited for the urgency of his current situation. The "Corpse Collector" option was similarly irrelevant for his goals. That left him with two choices: "Seer" and "Diviner." Given that the inherent risks of all potion paths were equal and that he lacked deeper information, Klein leaned toward "Diviner." Besides, if Emperor Roselle's diaries were to be believed, he had regretted not choosing "Apprentice," "Thief," or "Diviner." That alone tipped the balance.
Moreover, Roselle's writings hinted that if one could understand the essence of "digesting" and "role-playing," it would mitigate the negative effects of the potion. And, after all, the ominous whispers and seductive hallucinations of the potion were something he had already begun to face—even without becoming extraordinary.
"Alright," Dunn finally said, rising and placing his black, high-crowned hat on his head. "Follow me to the basement."
Klein nodded, expressing his gratitude with a gentlemanly bow.
Click, click, click—the sound of their footsteps echoed down the silent, cavernous stairwell and through the passageways. Klein felt a sudden pang of anxiety and, to ease it, asked, "Captain, you mentioned that drinking the potion doesn't immediately grant knowledge of the mystical arts but rather the capacity to learn them. So, where does that initial knowledge come from? Did the ancients uncover it piece by piece, risking their lives, or did it come from another source?"
As they descended, Klein couldn't help but notice how fresh the air was here, a testament to the excellent ventilation. But in this hollow quiet, the occasional draft that brushed past him was enough to send a shiver down his spine.
Dunn glanced at him, his gray eyes piercingly deep in the dim light.
"In short," he replied calmly, "first, as you said, through exploration, recording, and refinement; second, by the grace of the gods; and third…" He gave a slight chuckle, "those dangerous 'whispers' that others can't hear aren't always meaningless ramblings. Occasionally, they reveal bits of arcane knowledge. But from what I know, anyone who dares listen to those whispers consistently ends up mad—or worse, transformed into something monstrous. Of course, we owe them our gratitude, for their notes are invaluable treasures in the field of mysticism."
Human guinea pigs, Klein thought, feeling a sudden chill in the dampness of the underground passage.
The ritual I've turned into some kind of 'friendship magic'… Will it keep bringing those eerie, maddening whispers? What if it affects me the same way?
They reached the crossroads, but instead of heading towards the "Chanis Gate" or the "Weapons, Materials, and Document Vault," Dunn led him down the path closer to the Saint Selena Church. Halfway there, he paused, touched a hidden switch, and opened a concealed door.
"This is the Night Watchers' Alchemy Room," Dunn explained, gesturing inside. "I'll have Old Neil fetch the 'Seer' potion formula and its ingredients from the Chanis Gate. You're fortunate; there should be two remaining doses. If not, you'd have to wait quite a while." He pointed towards the room. "Wait here, and observe Old Neil throughout the entire potion-making process. It's fundamental to mysticism. And don't touch anything inside; it's either extremely dangerous, extremely expensive, or both."
He paused, adding, "Oh, I nearly forgot. You're becoming an extraordinary because of the dangers and the search for that journal. Your contributions are only part of the reason. So, for now, you'll remain a civilian member, with the same duties and salary as before. However, you'll be learning quite a bit of mysticism from Old Neil, which you can arrange at your convenience."
"Understood," Klein replied, suppressing a small grumble about his unchanged salary but otherwise fully on board.
Given that the potion would only open the path, and that he still needed to learn and practice, he had no illusions about joining the main team immediately. Jumping straight into supernatural cases would practically be a death wish.
Dunn started to walk back toward the crossroads but then turned to face Klein once more.
Here it comes… Klein thought, already familiar with Dunn's pattern.
"We've made some progress regarding the operation on the Secret Order," Dunn said, his expression neutral. "For the time being, they likely won't dare provoke us again. But stay vigilant—we can't be certain of the true significance that Antigonus family journal holds for them. Based on our findings, they seem to preserve certain ancient rituals, likely connected to the Solomon Empire and its degenerate nobility."
Dunn exhaled slowly, and said, "Understood. Thank you, Captain."
This was, after all, one of the reasons he had been so eager to seize the opportunity to become an extraordinary!
Watching Dunn leave, ensuring he wouldn't turn back to add any more instructions, Klein slowly entered the alchemy room.
Long tables stretched out across the space, adorned with test tubes, droppers, scales, and beakers, resembling a simplified, archaic chemistry lab from his previous life. But unlike a modern lab, it also featured large iron pots, a black wooden spoon, translucent crystal spheres, and various symbols of the Dark Sacred Emblem scattered around, imbuing the space with a touch of mystery.
Klein curiously looked around, careful not to touch anything.
After a while, the sound of footsteps echoed, and Old Neil entered, carrying an intricately patterned silver box. He wore his usual black, old-fashioned robe and round-brimmed felt hat.
"Didn't expect you to choose 'Seer,'" Old Neil remarked as he set down the silver box, his murky, reddish-brown eyes glancing at Klein. "You have spirit, just like I did back in the day. Bold. Good. Now, light those gas lamps, and close the hidden door."
"Got it." Klein held back a shiver, lighting the gas lamps one by one, bringing a muted brightness back to the room.
With a soft click, the hidden door closed. Klein turned around to stand next to Old Neil, who used a bundle of strange branches to brush the inside of the large black iron pot.
"The preparation of low-sequence potions is very simple," Old Neil explained, smiling as the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth deepened. "At least, for anything below Sequence 7. You don't need a special flame, no ritual, no incantations, not even your own spirit. Just add the ingredients in exact amounts and in the specified order, then give it a stir, and you're done."
"Really?" Klein asked, somewhat surprised.
It sounded as straightforward as his "Luck Enhancement Ritual."
Which was… a bit terrifying in hindsight.
"Perhaps that's the grace of the gods. Praise the Lady." Old Neil made a somewhat sloppy circle over his chest.
He then opened the silver box and took out a roll of aged parchment.
As the yellowish parchment slowly unrolled, Klein strained to see the words inscribed in a familiar language—Hermesian.
Written in what seemed like blood-red ink, the words appeared to pulse faintly, though aside from this subtle effect, it lacked any other extraordinary aura.
"'Seer': 100 milliliters of pure water + 13 drops of nightshade extract + 7 gold mint leaves…" Klein muttered to himself, trying to read further, but Old Neil's elbow blocked the remaining content.
"Pure water means distilled several times. Fortunately, I've prepared some earlier, so we won't waste any time on it." Old Neil reached for a large glass bottle marked with measurements and casually poured 100 milliliters of pure water into the black iron pot.
Klein refrained from asking questions, careful not to disrupt the brewing process. After all, he was the one who would be drinking the potion.
"Thirteen drops of nightshade essence. This can be extracted and stored as an essential oil," Old Neil explained as he produced a small brown bottle from the silver box, skillfully using a dropper to add exactly thirteen drops.
A faint, calming fragrance filled the room, and Klein felt his mind naturally settle.
"Seven gold mint leaves…" Old Neil opened a tin with silver patterns, pinched out a few leaves with his bare fingers, and sprinkled them into the pot. The air filled with a faintly refreshing, almost invigorating scent.
"4, 5, 6, 7, perfect." Old Neil chuckled as he glanced at the potion formula on the parchment. "Three drops of hemlock juice—don't ever drink this by mistake. It'll paralyze your entire body, leaving you rigid as you die. In ancient times, it was the preferred method for suicide."
I'm not that foolish… Klein thought to himself.
Switching to another dropper, Old Neil added the hemlock juice to the iron cauldron, releasing an odd aroma that cleared the mind in a strange way.
"Nine grams of dragon's blood herb powder," Old Neil continued unhurriedly, reaching into the silver box to retrieve a transparent test tube filled with an iron-black powder.
He carefully measured out exactly nine grams using a beaker and scale, then casually poured it into the iron cauldron, stirring with the black wooden spoon. Klein watched, feeling slightly apprehensive; the process seemed a bit too casual for his liking.
"In reality, these initial ingredients are just auxiliaries. A little more or less won't affect the final result. Shall I throw in some extra for good measure?" Old Neil joked. "The last two ingredients, however, are crucial. They can be slightly under the required amount, but not too far off, or your 'ascension' could fail. And whatever you do, don't exceed the amount—not even by a tiny bit—otherwise, you'll likely end up with mental issues…or worse."
Klein's focus immediately sharpened as he watched Old Neil pull out a black glass vial from the silver box.
"Lava octopus blood, ten milliliters," Old Neil said, his tone now serious. "This species is extraordinary, a mutated form covered in mysterious symbols. Its blood rapidly degrades in sunlight, losing its potency, so it must be stored in opaque containers." Swiftly and carefully, he measured ten milliliters of the blood into a test tube.
The blood was a deep, sky-blue color, with occasional ethereal bubbles rising to the surface as if it were connected to another, spiritual realm.
"Pour the blood from the test tube, leaving any residue behind—that's to prevent an overdose," Old Neil instructed quietly.
As the azure blood merged with the other liquids in the iron cauldron, a crackling sound arose, and the surrounding light took on a faint blue hue. Klein experienced a strange, distant sense of familiarity as if he were recalling an ancient memory from within the womb, a feeling that lifted his very soul.
"Finally, star crystal, fifty grams." Old Neil's voice pulled Klein back to reality, and he focused his gaze on the long table.
In the old man's hands was a piece of crystal so pure it appeared almost gelatinous, like a translucent jelly, lacking the hardness typical of minerals on Earth.
Under the faint blue light, the star crystal reflected tiny points of brilliance, as if it held a miniature cosmos within.
"This is an ideal material for crafting divination crystals... I'll cut slightly less, accounting for any margin of error," Old Neil said, using a patterned silver knife to carefully slice off portions while weighing them.
"Pure water + night incense herb + gold mint leaves + hemlock juice + dragon's blood herb + lava octopus blood + star crystal = Diviner…" Klein found himself unconsciously going over the recipe in his mind.
With everything prepared, Old Neil tossed a few small pieces of star crystal into the iron cauldron.
Sizzle!
An illusory mist immediately rose, filling the alchemy room with a hazy veil.
In the haze, Klein felt as if he were gazing at a vast night sky, faintly sensing the watchful presence of invisible beings.
A few seconds later, the mist dissipated, and Old Neil used the black wooden spoon to scoop out the viscous, deep blue liquid. The liquid clung together with a strange consistency, forming an unbreakable bond, leaving no trace in the black iron cauldron.
Pouring the deep blue liquid into an opaque cup, Old Neil gestured to it and said, "There you go, your 'Diviner' potion."