The dozens of failures before all happened because, in the later stages, the number of basic formulas involved got way too overwhelming. Aaron had never dealt with them before, so he ended up cramming at the last minute, and there just wasn’t enough time.

  Aaron has to think on his feet and use other basic formulas to replace the ones he doesn’t know.

  Simply put, he switches to a different method.

  This method isn’t necessarily easier, but it suits Aaron better.

  After setting down the potion he just brewed, Aaron grabs another batch of Calm Potion and starts brewing again.

  ...

  On the shaded path beneath the trees.

  The morning sun leaps over the horizon, beams of sunlight filtering through the thick branches, casting patches of light and shadow on the gravel road.

  In the golden rays, countless dust particles and cold air swirl up, dancing gracefully.

  Master Scott, fresh from breakfast, strolls along the colorful gravel path.

  “Master, please, you must speak for me!”

  Alex runs up to Master Scott, face twisted in a pitiful expression.

  With a thud, he drops to his knees.

  Then he starts accusing Aaron of all sorts of crimes.

  “...Master, Aaron totally doesn’t respect me as his senior brother! Please, Master, you have to take my side!”

  Master Scott listens, inwardly sneering: “That rebellious brat doesn’t even respect his own master. Give him all the benefits, he still betrays me on a whim. So why should he respect you?”

  “I already know about this. Setting Aaron aside, why are you always hanging around him? And as the senior brother, why are you so petty?”

  Alex looks at Master Scott, disbelief written all over his face.

  What his master really means is: I know about this already! I think Aaron’s fine. You got beaten because you kept hanging around him. Stay away from him, and you won’t get hit. If you get hit, so be it. As the senior brother, you should forgive him and not run to me to complain.

  At this moment, Master Scott feels like a stranger to Alex.

  The wind today feels damn cold.

  ……

  Inside the brewing room.

  Master Scott walks right in.

  Aaron is busy at the workstation.

  Master Scott glances at the potion in Aaron’s hands. When he notices the color’s off, he immediately knows this brewing potion has failed.

  “Don’t trouble Alex anymore,” Master Scott warns.

  Aaron’s a hothead, quick to anger and revenge. Master Scott really worries Aaron might pull some dirty trick and end up killing Alex.

  Alex, who’s grown up spoiled and pampered, isn’t a match for Aaron.

  “I’m not causing trouble. He’s just asking for it,” Aaron replies without even looking up.

  “Don’t play dumb. It’s fine to teach him a lesson, but don’t kill him. That’s the bottom line,” Master Scott says bluntly.

  Aaron stays silent.

  He’s not about to make promises lightly.

  Who knows if that kid might suddenly snap and do something crazy?

  This seemingly clueless fool can be terrifying when pushed to extremes.

  Aaron grabs a vessel and shakes it hard. The potion, originally pale yellow, turns dark purple.

  “Done!”

  “Done what?”

  Master Scott had stopped paying attention when the potion’s color first went wrong. He didn’t know which step Aaron messed up and couldn’t offer guidance. He planned to watch the next brewing instead.

  “The potion’s done!”

  Aaron excitedly holds the potion up to Master Scott.

  Master Scott studies it carefully. “The color’s right. Wait here, I’ll check the potency.”

  Inside the brewing room, there’s equipment for testing potions to verify their effectiveness.

  “Got a few more!” Aaron pulls out four more pale purple Calm Potions.

  Master Scott takes them and rushes off to test their effects.

  A moment later.

  Master Scott approaches Aaron with a look of utter disbelief.

  “Did you really brew these?”

  “Of course! So, How effective are these potions? Success or not?”

  “The one of them is a complete potion, and the other four are about eighty percent effective,” Master Scott says, his expression complicated as he looks at Aaron.

  Usually, a pharmacist apprentice needs about three years just to brew a single potion.

  Even the simplest Level 1 potion involves eighty or ninety formulas.

  It’s less about spending three years brewing potions and more about getting familiar with the potion formulas during the process.

  After all, practice is the only way to test the truth.

  Those cold, hard formulas in books often differ a lot when applied in real life.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  That’s why Master Scott didn’t stop Aaron when he first started brewing Calm Potion.

  This is a stage every pharmacist has to go through.

  Though Calm Potion is tough, it’s basically about mastering the application of basic formulas.

  Any potion works for practice.

  It’s just tough luck for the Silver Fox Hunter Group.

  But it’s a willing deal on both sides.

  No one can say a thing.

  But here’s the crazy part.

  Aaron’s been exposed to the basic formulas for less than two months.

  Then he spent a total of nine days brewing potions.

  And in that time, he manages to create Calm Potion—one of the most complex Level 1 potions.

  Wait a moment!

  “I remember the color was wrong earlier when you brewed that potion. That meant it failed, right?” Master Scott asks.

  “That’s failed if I followed the original steps. But I changed the steps, so it succeeded! The formulas involved later in Calm Potion, I haven’t learned yet, so I swapped in formulas I know. However, I don’t recommend using my method, it’s actually more complicated,” Aaron explains.

  Master Scott stands there, stunned.

  Just... changed the steps and it succeeded?

  Brew a potion in nine days by altering the original process?

  He’s never heard of a genius who can brew a Level 1 potion by doing that.

  Maybe such a person exists somewhere in the world, but even so, Master Scott’s never come across them.

  But brewing Calm Potion in nine days?

  A complete potion, no less.

  Someone who’s only studied basic formulas for two months, then in nine days not only brews Calm Potion but also changes the steps and swaps in other formulas?

  There’s absolutely no one else like Aaron in this world.

  Master Scott feels like what he’s seeing is unreal—like a dream.

  How could something like this even exist?

  Every pharmacist is a one-in-a-million genius among the empire’s citizens.

  Even so, they usually spend seven to ten years mastering the basic formulas.

  Their first potion takes two to three years to brew.

  But Aaron? Two months, nine days, and he changes the steps himself.

  These words together don’t just sound unbelievable, they sound miraculous.

  “How the hell did you pull this off?” Master Scott finally asks after standing there dumbfounded for a long time.

  “What’s so hard about it? I just started brewing right away. It kept failing, and I couldn’t learn all the basic formulas in a few days, so I figured I’d try another way. The books say it too—brewing isn’t about the process, it’s about the result. So I swapped out the formulas I didn’t know for ones I did, making sure the final result’s the same. Problem solved,” Aaron says casually.

  Aaron scratches his head. He knows damn well he’s got a knack for potion-making.

  But he’s not about to get cocky.

  Because honestly, it’s pretty simple.

  Compared to the basic formulas, Aaron thinks the foundational knowledge is way harder.

  The latter is all about memorization—actually reading the damn books and learning the habits and effects of every herb.

  The former? It’s pure understanding.

  Those basic formulas are like water in a cup, he just picks up the cup and drinks it.

  Would he brag about something as effortless as taking a sip of water?

  Master Scott stares at Aaron for a long time, feeling a chill run down his spine.

  He himself is a pharmacist.

  He knows exactly how painful it is to learn potion formulas.

  Once upon a time, he was a renowned genius with his own pride.

  But right now, that pride in potion-making is completely shattered.

  “Don’t even mention the fact that you successfully brewed Calm Potion...” Master Scott adjusts his mindset, then says after a moment of thought.

  “What’s wrong, Master?” Aaron asks, confused.

  He was hoping to give the Silver Fox Hunter Group a few potions, so they could break even.

  Then gather more Calm Potion herbs to nourish his superpower seed.

  “Sometimes, being too damn talented isn’t a good thing. If word gets out that you brewed Calm Potion in nine days, you’ll definitely attract the Church’s attention. Hunting down imperial geniuses is the outcasts’ job,” Master Scott says hesitantly.

  Aaron shoots Master Scott a sideways glance.

  He’s never quite sure about his master’s other identity.

  But seeing his master struggle like this sends a chill down Aaron’s spine.

  Master... you’re not thinking of killing me for the reward, are you?

  Aaron stays silent and moves a few steps away from Master Scott.

  Master Scott glares at him with displeased.

  He sees right through Aaron’s little thoughts.

  “Hehe……”

  Neither of them brings up the outcast topic.

  “Master, keep this information hidden if you want. I’ve never cared about those empty honor s anyway. But I want to keep brewing Calm Potion. I’ve been freeloading herbs from the Silver Fox Hunter Group, and I’m afraid they’re gonna crack under the economic pressure.”

  In the past two weeks, Aaron has got 150 batches of herbs from the Silver Fox Hunter Group.

  That’s a whopping 150,000 gold coins.

  But even if all the remaining 50 batches of herbs are successfully brewed, he only manages to make 50 potions.

  At ten potions a day, that only lasts five days.

  Master Scott looks at Aaron with suspicion.

  His disciple is way too obsessed with Calm Potion.

  Focus Potion, Calm Potion…

  Master Scott ponders deeply.

  “I'll figure out how to get the remaining herbs. As for the Silver Fox Hunter Group, after some time, send them a few diluted Calm Potions. Just keep about 20 to 30 percent of the potency.”

  After a moment, Master Scott’s expression shifts slightly as he warns,

  Although a genius rated S-grade brewing a semi-finished Calm Potion in less than a month is shocking, it is still somewhat acceptable.

  Then he turns and says, “How many Calm Potion herbs do you need?”

  “The more, the better!”

  “Alright!” Master Scott glances at Aaron. “You brew the potions yourself. I’ve got other things to handle, so I won’t guide you anymore.”

  With that, Master Scott leaves the brewing room.

  “Got it, Master!”

  ……

  Night falls.

  Aaron leaves the Potion Hall feeling fucking refreshed.

  In one day, he uses twenty batches of herbs and brews sixteen potions successfully.

  That success rate is terrifying for any pharmacist.

  Most pharmacists barely hit thirty percent success.

  Some rare ones reach fifty percent success.

  As for those hitting seventy or eighty percent? They’re legendary potion masters.

  And Aaron, a rookie pharmacist who just nailed his first brews, is rocking this absurd success rate like that. If word gets out, everyone’s jaws will drop.

  Aaron drinks a freshly brewed Calm Potion right then and there, feeling incredibly energized.

  He looks up at the sky. The black canvas above is sprinkled with brilliant stars, shining like diamonds.

  This is his first time brewing a potion.

  Back when he was in the mines, every night, Aaron would sit on a rock, lost in thought.

  The rustling of weeds.

  The breeze racing across the empty wilderness.

  The exhausted snores of the miners.

  The guards chatting and puffing smoke.

  ...

  Countless noises mixed with the cold moonlight filled his ears.

  Back then, he firmly believed that somewhere out there, a star would shine just for him.

  And now, that star has finally been lit.

  ……

  Black Mamba Bar.

  Located on the edge of Hunter Union’s the City-in-City, Black Mamba is the “bridge” between hunters and imperial citizens.

  Hunter Union’s the City-in-City is the dreamland for countless imperial citizens.

  Beneath the neon lights, this flashy modern city hides cramped living conditions, crushing taxes, and sky-high mortgage and car loan interests.

  Countless families carry heavy burdens, teetering on the edge of collapse.

  Because of this, imperial citizens fantasize about the “big shots” inside the City-in-City.

  Even though they’ve never felt the wild wind on their skin, that doesn’t stop them from slapping on all kinds of beautiful labels.

  They dream of the day they can be like the wind, running free across the wild.

  Hunters.

  This word, tied to the wilderness, stands apart from regular jobs in society and is worshiped by imperial citizens.

  Especially young people, bursting with hormones and refusing to live a boring life, constantly fantasize about sneaking a peek into this mysterious world.

  Black Mamba Bar offers a little chance for that “peek.”

  After high-stakes battles in the wild, many hunters come here to unwind completely.

  This is their world, where lively young men and women often lose themselves in wild dancing right in the middle of the bar.

  Their eyes scan the hunters around them, and if they spot a familiar face, they jump in to chat, eager to pry into the mysterious “hunter world.”

  “Hey handsome, drinking alone?”

  A hot young girl with twin ponytails strolls up to the bar, looking at a young man whose cheeks are flushed from drinking, casually striking up a conversation.

  “Fuck off!”

  The young man rudely shoves her aside.

  “You’re crazy! Drinking a little and forgetting your own name!”

  The girl stomps away, grumbling bitterly under her breath.

  The young man keeps downing drink after drink, trying to numb himself with alcohol.

  “Fact is, drinking only lets you temporarily escape your problems. It doesn’t solve shit.”

  A burly man who is smoking a cigar, plops down on a bar stool.

  “I told you, fuck off!”

  “Tsk tsk, Alex, as Master Scott’s top disciple, you sure have the right to tell most hunters to fuck off. But those people don’t include the one you hate—Aaron.”

  Vorry smiles as he says this, then turns to the bartender.

  “One ‘White Lady’, please.”