The laboratory came to life. With a quiet rustle, the manipulator arm shot forward like a snake, passed through the wall, flew into the cage with the pamlak, and gripped the monster’s neck with its steel tentacles. The moment it did, the cage bars plunged downward into the ground, and the manipulator arm pulled the creature into the center of the laboratory. Within seconds, it was suspended in midair.

  Mahur didn’t want to see this. The usually soft-spoken Valm, even from behind, now terrified the head of the craftsmen’s guild. Was he… ruthless? Mahur couldn’t understand why he suddenly felt so unwell and scared that even his knees trembled. Were all scientists like this? The monster hanging in the air and shrieking evoked pity. So who was the real monster in this laboratory now? Mahur didn’t want to know the answer.

  “Master Valm, perhaps I should leave?”

  He thought his question took the alchemist by surprise.

  “So you won’t be watching me test the equipment? I thought that was why we were here… But if you wish to leave, I won’t stop you. We’ll finalize the transfer papers and the payment tomorrow after I complete the testing. Do you agree, Master Mahur?”

  “Yes, yes, of course, whatever is most convenient for you, Master Alchemist!”

  The guild head dashed through the door, which Valm had obligingly opened for him, and immediately bent over, resting his hands on his knees. His heart pounded wildly in his chest, and something heavy rose in his throat. Damn it! Mahur wasn’t a timid man, but right now… The lighting, the metallic clicking of medical equipment and instruments… He had heard stories about the dungeons of the kingdom’s Secret Service, but the laboratory was far more terrifying than those rumors when that young alchemist was in charge. Looking up at the sun, Mahur resolutely walked away. His feet would never set foot in the Citadel again, he promised himself.

  Valm, meanwhile, paid no attention to the guild head’s state, too engrossed in the monster. From the floor beneath the hanging pamlak, a steel frame rose, and four metal rods shot out, grabbing the creature by its limbs. Quickly and silently, they stretched outward, spreading the monster so it couldn’t thrash. The creature’s screeching echoed under the steel ceiling of the laboratory.

  “You’re too loud!” Valm said.

  Then, with a flick of his hand, two wires from the manipulator arm’s tentacles stabbed into the creature’s throat, tearing through its vocal cords. Silence fell, broken only by the soft drip of blood onto the floor.

  “Well, as much as I’d love to dissect you right now, I must remain methodical.”

  Valm descended the stairs from the central control panel and approached the helpless monster. Just half an hour ago, the pamlak’s eyes radiated the fury and cruelty of a predator, but now… Only fear and submission remained in them. Valm didn’t care about the creature’s emotions. From a large tray floating beside him, he took an instrument resembling a large scalpel and cut off several tufts of fur from different parts of the monster’s body.

  Each tuft was placed in a separately labeled compartment to avoid confusion later. After finishing this simple procedure, he turned and walked toward an area filled with various medical instruments for sample analysis. Each tuft was tested for tensile strength, for the force required to cut it with blades of varying sharpness, and for the temperature at which it burned in fire. This took him over an hour. Every result was carefully recorded on a neatly lined sheet of paper.

  Once done with the fur, Valm changed into a spacious blue suit that covered his entire body except for his face, put on a transparent mask, picked up a texture meter, and returned to the monster.

  “ First, the back, then the head and sides… the abdominal area will be last…” he murmured to no one in particular.

  Raising the instrument, he made the first puncture in the lower back. The monster trembled as the sharp blade pierced its skin. Valm withdrew his hand and looked at the scale.

  “450 M?utols… Thirty times stronger than human skin…”

  Shaking his head, he turned to the floating tray, where a schematic of the monster was laid out, and wrote the number over the corresponding area on the diagram. Then he returned to the pamlak. Again and again, he made punctures, diligently recording each result. To prevent excessive blood loss, he quickly smeared each wound with a foul-smelling blue paste, soon making the creature’s body look like a strange, gray mass speckled with tiny blue stains.

  At the end of the experiment, Valm made a note on the schematic: “Strongest area — forehead, 1280 M’utols; weakest — abdomen, 100 M’utols.”

  Stepping aside, he removed the now bloodstained blue suit and tossed it into the trash with disgust. Then, retrieving a bottle of restorative potion from storage, he took a small sip.

  “Why are you shaking?” he asked, looking at the monster. “ This is only the beginning!”

  With these words, he walked toward the shelves lined with surgical instruments, selecting an array of cold steel tools whose mere sight would have terrified any ordinary person. Once he had gathered everything he needed, he returned to the creature and donned a fresh blue suit.

  “You know what I’m curious about?” he asked, staring into the monster’s terrified eyes. “ Why doesn’t my poison work on you freaks?!”

  The cold scalpel gleamed in his hand as Valm swiftly and precisely sliced off a massive piece of skin from the monster’s chest. The creature arched in agony, but the steel was stronger than living flesh, even the flesh of a monster. Carefully, the alchemist removed the fatty layer, exposing the muscles of the ribcage, and cauterized the thin blood vessels to keep the muscle surface dry.

  “So first, we’ll test the effects of alkalis, then acids, and finally, some of my poisons… Actually, I already have a theory, so this experiment is just to confirm it. So don’t let me down!”

  After saying this, he slapped the monster’s abdomen and carefully applied a small amount of alkali to the exposed muscle with a fine brush. Instantly, the affected area began contracting under the command of the nervous system. Within seconds, the monster’s mana surged, neutralizing the foreign substance.

  Valm nodded silently and repeated the experiment with acid, then with several of his strongest poisons. The result was the same. He frowned, turned away, removed his mask, and walked to the main control panel, where he wrote for a long time, then paused to think, then wrote again. After some time, he set the paper aside and headed for the surgical equipment shelves.

  “You know what I don’t understand?” he said to the monster, holding a surgical circular saw in his hands. “ How does your damn body react so fast to deadly substances that they don’t even have time to harm you? That really intrigues me!”

  His gaze fell on the chronometer he had started at the beginning of the experiment.

  “Damn, I’ve already spent twenty hours on you!” He set the saw down on the tray. “ You hang tight, alright? I’ll be back soon.”

  Valm stripped off the blue suit and left the laboratory. He needed to feed the monsters in the cages and visit the head of the craftsmen’s guild to finalize their business.

  He threw chunks of spoiled meat between the bars of the cages, and the monsters greedily snatched them up, swallowing without chewing. The monsters were hungry. Very hungry. And the scraps Valm fed them were not enough. After gulping down the meat, they kept their eyes fixed on the alchemist. Some of the monsters even tried to squeeze through the thick steel bars of their cages, swiping their clawed limbs.

  “Don’t worry, your turn will come soon. I’ll find out what you’re made of, you freaks.”

  After these words, Valm looked at the horned goblin. An interesting specimen. A head taller than regular goblins, with a well-developed musculature and even some level of intelligence. This species of creature even had its own language, though primitive compared to human speech.

  To hell with it, it’s time to leave. The alchemist headed to his bedroom to change and caught himself thinking that he did, after all, need household workers. Well, that was another reason to visit the head of the craftsman’s guild today.

  Ladbor was riding his mount at a furious speed north of the city. Unfortunately, this adventurer compensated for his lack of cognitive abilities with a vengeful nature, so he decided to break the mayor’s order. But he was smart enough not to do it with his own hands—he found outsiders to take revenge on Valm. And the Grey Ravens were the perfect choice.

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  The Grey Ravens were a gang of unregistered adventurers who, apart from hunting weak monsters, engaged in rather unlawful activities, such as smuggling and the trafficking of forbidden creatures. Occasionally, when offered an enticing enough reward, they even accepted contracts for assassinations. In short, their sense of morality and respect for the kingdom’s laws were at a rather low level.

  Ladbor knew this well, as it wasn’t his first time dealing with the Grey Ravens. His dealings with them were almost routine. When other adventurers got in his way, he didn’t handle them personally—he simply hired the Grey Ravens, and within days, the unfortunate soul who had dared to cross him would simply vanish. Of course, even such “coincidences” aroused suspicion within the Adventurers’ Guild, but no direct evidence was ever found. The Grey Ravens knew their craft well.

  Ladbor turned off the main road and followed a winding path into the low, forest-covered mountains, eventually stopping in front of heavy gates made of thick logs. Being a B-rank adventurer, he had already sensed several arrows aimed at him.

  “Ladbor has come to see First Raven! I have a job for you!”

  He felt the arrowheads lower slightly before the gates swung open, allowing him inside.

  Beyond the gates, in a large courtyard, stood several large wooden buildings resembling barracks. Ladbor was led into one of them and seated at a table, ordered to wait. A few minutes later, a burly warrior in leather armor reinforced with metal plates entered the room.

  “Ladbor, aren’t you visiting us a bit too often?” he rasped, adjusting his long black beard.

  “So what? I bring the money, you do the job. Same as always!”

  The old chair creaked as the warrior sat down.

  “So, who’s the unlucky one this time?”

  “Some freak. But he’s an alchemist.”

  “An alchemist? Then why don’t you just rip his head off yourself instead of coming all the way here?” First Raven watched the adventurer’s face intently. “Ah, so he’s not just any alchemist?”

  “ He’s a nobody… But the mayor doesn’t want me to handle it myself.”

  The warrior leaned his elbows on the table and remained silent for a moment.

  “The mayor is against it… Ladbor, I’m no fool. That’s not a coincidence. Who is this alchemist? And don’t lie to me this time.”

  “He’s really a nobody. Fourth rank, as far as I know. But he’s loaded with money—built himself a real fortress outside the city.”

  The mention of money piqued First Raven’s interest.

  “Five thousand gold coins!” he said with a wide grin.

  “Are you insane?!”

  The price outraged the adventurer—his previous contracts had only cost him a few hundred. The burly man spread his arms.

  “That’s my price, Ladbor. If you don’t like it, you can leave…”

  The adventurer clenched his fists. Even for a B-rank, that was a hefty sum. But his options were limited. He had to bring the alchemist’s head to Saria to prove himself worthy of her. Ladbor’s face twisted, and he pulled a hefty pouch from his storage.

  “Deal, Raven!”

  A massive hand caught the pouch and tossed it up, the sound of gold coins rubbing against each other filling the room.

  “See how easy that was?” First Raven exclaimed. “ Now, describe this alchemist to me.”

  “I’ll do better,” the adventurer pulled a small crystal orb from his pocket. “I’ll show him to you.”

  He infused it with a bit of aura, and above the orb appeared a high-quality holographic image of Valm.

  “ Hah, a wimp.”

  Saying this, the warrior took the orb from Ladbor’s hands. First Raven was pleased. His gang had plenty of experienced killers who left no traces. And this job seemed both easy and very profitable.

  Valm, of course, had no idea about this conversation from a few days ago—he had no clue that someone was planning an assassination attempt on him. He walked out of the craftsmen’s guild building with satisfaction, having made the final payment and arranged for workers for the Citadel.

  Just as Valm opened the door of his capsule, he felt a sudden blow to his back.

  The alchemist tried to turn around, but a sharp pain shot through his entire body, forcing him to his knees, his trembling fingers clutching at the capsule’s door. Out of the corner of his eye, he managed to glimpse a tall man casually walking past.

  He felt his whole body seize up, his heart falter. Who, if not an alchemist, would recognize the symptoms of poison?

  With his last strength, collapsing onto the cobblestone pavement, Valm retrieved a small case with a pill from his storage and struggled to open it with his stiff fingers.

  He was lucky the effects of the restoration potion he had drunk nearly a day ago hadn’t yet worn off—otherwise, he would already be dead. But even that wasn’t enough.

  His fingers felt like wood, refusing to grasp the pill that lay right before his eyes.

  With a rasping breath, Valm exhaled for the last time, and his body simply ignored the brain’s command to breathe.

  His hands weakened, dropping the case, and his head, on a tense neck, slowly began to lower toward the cobblestone. Damn it! Just like that, so stupidly?—the only thought hammering in his mind. Just as his vision was clouded by a white mist, he managed to make out something resembling white fluffy paws standing beside his face.

  Valm regained consciousness in an unfamiliar bed. He stared at the uneven wooden ceiling, trying to recall where he had seen a similar pattern before. The alchemist listened to his body. The terrible pain from the poison was gone; only a slight prickling remained in his back near his right lung. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remember how he had managed to take the antidote—it was all a blur.

  Valm sighed and tried to sit up. Though his head swayed and reeled, he still managed to do it. On a small table beside the bed stood a bell. Shrugging—an action that made him feel the pain again—he quietly rang it, then retrieved a fresh set of clothes from his storage and began to dress. Mahur entered the room.

  “Master Valm, how are you feeling?”

  Ah, that’s why the ceiling pattern seemed familiar. The Craftsmen’s Guild building.

  “Better than a dead man, Master Mahur. Thank you for your help.”

  “Oh, no need to thank me. But this incident worries me. Even though we caught that damned rabbit-girl who attempted to assassinate you, she refuses to confess, insisting she only gave you the pill you were holding in your hands.”

  Valm recalled the white paws he had seen before losing consciousness.

  “ A rabbit-girl? Master Mahur, she likely saved me rather than tried to kill me. The attacker was human—I’m certain of it. Take me to her.”

  The guild leader hesitated but, after waiting for Valm to finish dressing, led him down to the basement. As they walked through the guild’s corridors, he handed Valm a strange object, resembling a large hollow needle with a handle and a button on it.

  “Master Valm, this was stuck in your back…”

  The alchemist took the instrument, sniffed the hole at the needle’s tip, and grimaced. They could have used a better poison instead of this garbage with unnecessary impurities. But he did like the needle itself.

  “Do you know which guild or master makes these?” he asked Mahur.

  “ I’ve never seen anything like it before. Likely, this device isn’t even from our kingdom—the metalwork quality is too high for our craftsmen. I’d say it was made in the Empire, but I won’t swear to it.”

  Valm nodded and stored the assassin’s tool away. If used with the right poison, it would be quite handy.

  “We’re here, Master Valm,” Mahur said, opening a heavy wooden door with a barred window.

  Inside the cold, dimly lit room stood a chair, to which a beastkin girl, around fifteen years old with rabbit ears, was chained with thick links. It wasn’t hard to guess that she had been badly beaten recently—the bruises on her exposed skin and the blood on her face left no doubt. Valm shook his head, silently condemning the actions, and retrieved a fourth-class healing pill from his storage.

  “Forgive my friends. They misunderstood everything. I know you saved me, not letting me die…” with these words, he pushed the medicine into her mouth.

  Unable to resist, the beastkin swallowed the pill but continued to glare at Valm and Mahur with hatred in her red eyes.

  “So, if you hadn’t survived, your friends would have beaten me to death for nothing? That would be my reward for helping you? I recognize humans…”

  The alchemist glanced at the head of the guild. Mahur only sighed. Who could have known?—his expressive look seemed to say.

  “Then, Master Mahur, maybe you should release her? And what’s with that collar?”

  “Ah, that’s to keep her from transforming into a beast…” Mahur pulled out a key and removed the collar from the girl before starting to unlock the chains. “These beastkin… They’re damn strong in their beast forms. Even if it’s just a rabbit.”

  “ My name is Valm. What’s yours?”

  “ I’m Nima. You’re an alchemist?”

  “How did you guess?”

  “I could say you have too many good pills… But honestly, those idiots who beat me kept mentioning who you were.”

  “Well, yes, I really am an alchemist. But now I have a few questions for you. First, how can I repay you? And second, did you see who attacked me?”

  “And why should I answer you? After such a warm welcome and the sincere gratitude I’ve felt over the last few hours, you know… I just want to tell you both to go to hell.”

  “ I truly understand your anger, and I apologize again, but I’m a practical man—I know everything has a price. So… Tell me what you want in exchange for answering my question honestly.”

  The alchemist pulled a hefty purse from his storage and placed it in the beastkin’s hands. Usually, they were always in financial trouble, and her ragged clothing confirmed as much. But this time, Valm was mistaken.

  “ Money…” she sneered in disdain. “You humans try to solve everything with money… I don’t need it!”

  The rabbit-girl dropped the purse at her feet, continuing to stare into Valm’s eyes. He was puzzled. He really wanted to repay her, but he had no idea how, except by giving her gold.

  “Then… Tell me what you want, and if I can do it…”

  The beastkin rubbed her wrists, where the chain marks were still visible. Then she shook her head, stretching her neck, making her ears amusingly sway from side to side, and looked straight at Valm again.

  “Teach me alchemy!”

  Hearing these words, Mahur, who had been folding the chain, burst into laughter. Everyone knew beastkin weren’t suited for alchemy. But Valm was thinking about something else. She wasn’t stupid. She refused the fish to get the fishing rod. Though… A beastkin alchemist… That was truly impossible.

  “Sorry, but I can’t do that. Ask for something else.”

  The girl’s eyes flared red.

  “ Can’t, or won’t, alchemist?”

  “I really can’t. No one’s ever succeeded, and if I promise you, I’ll just be lying… I’m a decent alchemist, but I’m not capable of that.”

  “You’re worried about a possible future, but I won’t accept that refusal. The condition remains the same—you will teach me alchemy!”

  Valm was at a loss. He could try, of course, but in his mind, such a promise was as good as a lie, and he told the beastkin so directly.

  “If that’s your condition, then fine, I’ll teach you. But in my opinion, you’ll never become an alchemist. Does that promise satisfy you?”

  The girl’s eyes sparkled with joy.

  “Aha! Deal! I forgive all of you! I’ll find you in a few days—goodbye!”

  She leapt from the chair, swiftly picked up the purse from the floor, and walked past the bewildered Valm and Mahur toward the exit.

  “ Hey! What about the attacker?” the alchemist called after her.

  “ I didn’t see him!” the girl shouted back from the hallway.

  The alchemist and the guild leader exchanged glances.

  “ It seems, Master Valm, that you’ve just been played… She got both a teacher and money without giving anything in return…”

  Valm shrugged.

  “ Well, at least she forgave us…”