The alchemy department made up a pretty notable section of the university. It was made up of a series of large, open rooms, with equipment scattered about on relatively neatly organized tables. The open nature was a necessity; given how much interaction there was between different alchemists—and more notably, the assistants they relied on to prepare the ingredients—without it, things would move a lot slower.
It was thus that, as he walked in, Freddy expected to see a sight pretty similar to what the Blood Alchemy class looked like—a bunch of nerds playing with their equipment in silence.
“What fucking imbecile left this rotten shit on my table!?” an absurdly jacked alchemist shouted, turning tomato red in the face as he grabbed a handful of what looked like perfectly fine herbs and threw them across the room. “Come here so I can shove them up your ass!”
“You are worthless,” another alchemist declared to a crying assistant. “Less than worthless. Your worth is negative. Your birth was a calamity, and your continued existence is a blight.”
Freddy spotted a section where smoke was billowing out of a shattered table of equipment, getting sucked into a fume hood. Beside it, several extremely depressed alchemists watched, their expressions resigned, almost as if they had just watched their childhood homes burn to the ground.
Turning to the left, he spotted a woman crying in the corner. Turning to the right, he spotted a man crying while actively working on a concoction. Looking straight down, a man held two pieces of bread to the sides of a woman’s head, whispering at her; she was also crying.
Alchemy was inherently unpredictable. There were no two sets of identical ingredients. Precision was crucial, but so was adaptability. The tiniest of mistakes could cascade into a critical failure, and failures could get very expensive.
Perhaps some of these alchemists were assholes and bullies, given by their obvious mistreatment of their assistants. But watching hours—or days—of hard work, and millions of dollars worth of ingredients go up in smoke made it pretty hard not to get a wee bit angry at the one who fucked up.
Shrugging, Freddy turned to look for anyone who looked like they weren’t busy—or experiencing an extreme crisis. A sudden pang of insanity attracted his attention. That was impressive given the sheer amount of crazy filling the room. He turned, coming face to face with a short brunette wearing a plain white lab coat who looked extremely nervous as she headed in his direction.
For whatever reason, in her mind, approaching him was insane. And yet, she did it anyway. Freddy chalked it up to drugs. It was the alchemy department, after all.
“H-hi…” The woman greeted with a weak wave of her arm.
“Do I know you?” Freddy asked.
“What!?” The word came out significantly higher-pitched than the woman intended, startling her. “What? No… I… I mean, I do know you…” She chuckled awkwardly. “As Freddy Stern, of course. Not anyone else, no. Just uh…” She winced. “Right. You look like you need help!” She shot finger guns at him, forcing a smile. The smile died on her face, replaced by a resigned look of regret as she slowly lowered her hands and looked away. “Welcome to the alchemy department. I’m Anya. How can I help you?”
Chuckling awkwardly, Freddy frowned at the woman. Did she know he was Freddy Cliff? Some people knew for sure. It wasn’t even really a secret, most just didn’t believe it.
He had to hold back a smirk that threatened to appear on his face. She had approached him despite what she believed to be her better judgment. Now why would she do that? He doubted her motives were nefarious. Still, he was curious to see what was up with her.
Ignoring her obvious awkwardness, he asked, “Right, I’ve heard some alchemy students talking about some kind of brew that helps with studying? You know where I could get my hands on some of that stuff?”
“Ah…” She gave him an awkward smile. “I’m sorry to say it, but I doubt you’ll be able to get your hands on it.”
“Is it expensive?” he asked. “Because I have plenty of money.”
“No,” she laughed. “It’s… well, it’s not really a matter of money—don’t get me wrong, that crap can get really pricey—but… it’s more a matter of preparation.”
“Well what’s the issue?”
“It’s a sort of tea. Very hard to brew properly. And you have to drink it fast, because it gradually turns into poison.”
Freddy slowly nodded. “What kind of poison?”
“An endocrine disruptor. Best not to mess with the stuff.”
“No, I think I’d be fine… I think.”
She eyed him strangely.
“Is there a problem?” A fit man around Freddy’s own height made his way toward them, a strange glint in his eye.
“Henry!” Anya greeted, all-too-enthusiastic to have some help with tackling the newcomer. She gave him a very pointed look as she gestured over at their guest. “We were just talking about the spa brew.”
“Spa brew?” Freddy scowled. “What kind of name is that?”
“Philosophy reference,” Henry filled in. “Socrates; Plato; Aristotle. Spa brew—the tea of wise men.” Given the way the man looked at Freddy, Freddy got an uncanny impression that he was a lot older than either him or the girl, even if he didn’t look it. The guy gave off too much confidence to be one of the juniors in the room. “Are you an alchemist looking to purchase a recipe?”
“Uh… No?”
Henry gave him a confused look. “Are you asking me or answering?”
“What I mean to say is… I want to get my hands on it, in one form or another. Whether I’m the one brewing it or not isn’t really too relevant.”
“It should be. Unless you brew it yourself, you can kiss having frequent access to it goodbye.”
Freddy scowled. “Would I not, theoretically, be able to pay someone to brew it for me?”
Henry snorted. “You would hire a full-time alchemy assistant just for the spa brew?” The man’s eyes moved down to Freddy’s Entrepreneur badge, and he snorted again, a bit more amused this time. “Why of course. With money like that, it might just be within your budget. But I’d advise against it, nevertheless.”
“Why?”
“It is a dangerous concoction, and tricky to boot. Anyone whose self-respect is low enough to let themselves be turned into a tea lackey for some rich guy is not to be trusted with handling such a potent medicine.”
“Can I buy the recipe then?”
“Can you brew it?”
Freddy shrugged. “Probably not.”
Henry laughed. “Well, I wouldn’t mind shafting you out of a couple million if you’ll have my variant of it, but I’d advise you against drinking anything that doesn’t fit the exact description of a successful brew.”
Squinting, Freddy chewed on his words for a moment, trying to think of the least suspicious way to phrase what he was about to ask next. “Say, hypothetically, if I were to drink a ‘failed’ concoction, what would happen?”
“It’s an endocrine disruptor. Namely, you can kiss goodbye to having a healthy thyroid ever again. Your pancreas can survive a few light doses, but you wouldn’t have much fun there, either.”
“I see. But would it still work?”
The man cocked an eyebrow. “Yes.” He sighed. “Look, I have no authority to tell you what to do with your body, and I will fully confess I don’t give a shit. So let’s cut to the chase.” He raised his hand, and a stack of papers appeared. “Here is all my research on the spa brew. I’ll give it to you for five million and a gentlemen’s agreement not to share it with anyone.”
Freddy smiled. “Done and—”he extracted a small stack of aurels from his storage ring and handed it to the man—”done.”
Henry chuckled. “Early adopter, eh?”
“Have been for a long while.”
“Long while?” Henry cupped his chin. “Interesting… Say, if you have a stash of these, I wouldn’t mind buying them off of you at market rates. They’re still pretty hard to get your hands on, and I can’t have too many.”
Freddy grinned. “It’s a currency now. One I quite prefer over the dollar. So, no selling, but you can always earn them off me if you’d prefer that.”
“I would, in fact. But it depends on what you need.”
“Well, what can you offer?”
The man shifted his posture as he went full business mode. “Essence recovery elixirs, affinity elixirs, advanced combat drugs with minimal side-effects. Same with steroids. Healing medicines, poisons, lots of miscellaneous delving supplies. Make your pick.”
“Do you have a catalog or something?”
The man handed him a second, smaller pile of papers.
“Thanks,” Freddy said, trying yet again to find a way to phrase his following request in a way that won’t make him look like a maniac. He gave up. There was no salvaging this one. “Say… What’s the strongest steroid you could give me?”
Henry’s scowl deepened. “Can you be more specific?”
“I don’t know, can I? Seems like a pretty straightforward request.”
“‘Is your priority muscle growth? Compact strength? Speed? Stamina? Toughness? Are you looking for functionality of outcome, minimal side-effects, or just the absolute strongest chemical potency?”
“So I can be more specific.”
Henry laughed, and even the Anya girl chuckled a bit.
“Fair enough,” Freddy said, scratching the back of his head as he thought about it. “I think… as much overall effect across all categories, at the highest chemical potency.”
Henry scowled at that. “The spa brew is dangerous, but at worst, it’s a lesson in why pharmaceuticals shouldn’t be screwed around with. What you’re asking for now is going to straight up kill you.”
“Hey, I never said I was going to actually take it myself.”
“I surely hope you won’t.” Henry turned to Anya, eyes shimmering. “I believe this is a job for Kale.”
Anya nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, he’s gonna be so excited about this.”
The two of them led him deeper into the open room, closer to the edge. There, a series of entrances was lined up from end of the room to the other, likely leading to private rooms for those who needed an extra bit of peace and quiet.
“We might have to wait a minute,” Anya noted as she gently knocked on one of the doors.
They, indeed, had to wait a minute. Several of them. Around ten minutes later, the doors slowly opened, and a frazzled, thin man with ear-length dark hair walked out, looking like he hadn’t seen sunlight in half a century. “Hm?” He looked between them, stopping as he noted Freddy’s presence. The man’s face lit up with realization. “Damn! Y’all caught his ass!” The man sounded nothing like what Freddy imagined. He had a deep, strong voice, and came with a kind of frat bro energy to him that heavily clashed with his looks.
Freddy noted that the man seemingly recognized him. In fact, it looked like this wasn’t the first time Freddy was brought to this group’s attention. Was that why Anya approached him? He suddenly remembered the extremely prominent Entrepreneur badge that was front and center on his chest. Why, of course…
“Oh, sorry ‘bout that!” The man stepped out, closing the door behind him. He turned to face Freddy. “Name’s Kale. Given that you guys are knocking, I’m guessing you’re interested in something I can make.”
Henry smirked. “I think our client here might be interested in the dragon nuts.”
Kale froze. He gawked at Henry in disbelief and turned to Freddy.
Freddy had to take a step back, since for a brief moment, the man genuinely looked like he might lean in and kiss him.
“Come in,” he said, swinging the doors to the private room wide open and making his way inside.
Freddy wasn’t sure whether the office was this alchemist’s permanent station or not. On the one hand, that seemed like it would cost a lot of money. But on the other hand, the sheer number of papers strewn around the room made it feel pretty lived in. Hell, he could barely find a spot where there was nothing tacked to the wall.
Approaching a large collection of drawers on the other side of the room, the man marched over, putting a key into a lock and pulling the drawer out. He extracted a large stack of papers and a set of vials. “Around twenty years ago,” Kale started, “the empress killed this thing.” The man shoved a picture in Freddy’s face.
The picture in question showcased a dragon. Clearly, it was no normal beast. Because it had so much muscle mass that it looked borderline obese. There’s no way this thing could fly.
Kale lowered the picture. “It was a case of maladaptive deviancy. What was originally an earth-affinity dragon species produced a life-affinity deviant, one that possessed the means to modify its own body. As is common with deviants, the dragon didn’t know how to use the life affinity in a safe manner, and it ended up completely ruining its own body.”
“You don’t say?”
Kale snickered. “It’s worse than it looks, trust me.” Lifting one of the vials, he raised it to show Freddy. Inside, there was a small clump of cells, and the liquid it was floating in had an intense orange hue. “This is a collection of its Leydig cells. Carefully preserved. Through repeatedly messing with its own testosterone production, it had tempered its testicles to the point where they started producing a dangerous cocktail of super hormones.”
He put the vial away. “This cocktail is many trillions of times more potent than regular testosterone. In fact, it is so good at stimulating muscle growth that it transforms every kind of cell into muscle tissue. The dragon in question was practically helpless when it encountered the empress. At that point, most of its brain had already transformed into muscle mass. Anyway—” The man grabbed a second vial.
This one was filled with an intense red fluid. “Here’s some concentrated dragon hormones, mate. I’ll part with it for about a million dollars per vial.”
Freddy stared at the monstrosity before him. “Yeah… I don’t think I’ll find much use for something like that.” Even with 1% Lifesteal, having his brain tissue morphed into muscle mass wouldn’t be fun.
The man smiled, a calculating gleam twinkling in his eyes. “Figures. Well, thankfully for you, I have developed something a little more usable.” He raised a second vial full of yellow fluid. “Keep in mind, this batch is spoiled, so I will have to make a new one.” He sloshed the liquid in the vial around a bit. “It is a lot less potent than the unrefined version, but this one doesn’t make bones soft and it also doesn’t give the creature turbo dementia. I think it’s a worthwhile trade.”
Noting the man’s mention of “the creature,” Freddy couldn’t help but laugh. “Sure sounds a lot more palatable. Anyway, I’m guessing this is the part where you reveal that it costs considerably more money than the original.”
Kale laughed. “I love it when clients do my work for me. Yes. It ain’t an easy one to cook up, broski. Takes a whole team of alchemists and a very high standard of diligence to ensure it works as intended.”
“Just tell me how much.”
Kale looked a little hesitant. “A lot. I can’t agree to anything less than about one and a half billion per full vial. But thankfully for you—”
“Done.”
The trio of alchemists stared at him.
“Sorry, what?” Kale chuckled. “Did you not hear me properly? Billion. With a B.”
“No, I heard you.” Freddy nodded.
“I… I mean, I was about to add that I can produce a much smaller dose for a lot less money.”
“No, I want a full vial.” Freddy paused. “Maybe several, actually.”
“Several!?” Kale sputtered. “Are you trying to raise a pet giant or something, my guy? I can’t imagine what you could possibly need that much of it for.”
Freddy shrugged. “I have my uses.”
The alchemist paled slightly. “You’re not planning on taking this yourself, are you?” Kale asked, clearly worried. “Don’t do that.” He chuckled nervously. “No, I’m serious, don’t do that—even a drop will transform you into a completely unrecognizable mass of muscle.”
“I didn’t say I was gonna use it myself, did I?”
“Yeah, but you give me this feeling you definitely are.”
“No,” Freddy said. “I won’t.”
“You will,” Henry said in agreement. “You absolutely will.”
“I won’t!”
Anya winced. “Mr. Stern, I’m sorry to say this, but you don’t sound very convincing.”
“You guys don’t need to worry about it,” Freddy insisted. “I won’t be killing myself any time soon.”
Henry and Kale glanced at each other, clearly unconvinced.
A pang of insanity to his side caused Freddy to turn in Anya’s direction. The woman opened her mouth. “I… Just theoretically… Say there was somebody who had infinite supreme-quality healing.” She looked at Kale. “Would that let them use this without suffering consequences?”
Freddy stared at her.
Anya managed to not turn to look in Freddy’s direction.
Kale met her gaze. “Huh? Sorry, what? Where is this coming from?” He suddenly seemed to realize something. “Son of a bitch.” He turned to face Freddy. “It indeed would. Such a person could get away with a whole lot of stuff.” He briefly glanced at Freddy’s badges. “Say, Mr. Stern… I think I heard some interesting rumors.”
Freddy didn’t like where this was going.
Henry seemed to catch on as well. “Indeed… I believe I also heard the same thing. There is this man they call the ‘Butcher of the North.’ I believe the man has a talent that provides an infinite source of supreme-quality healing. Which would certainly let someone experiment with quite a number of substances. Including a poorly prepared spa brew.”
“Okay,” Freddy said, mood soured. “You figured me out. To be honest, it’s hardly even a secret at this point. Now, are you going to sell me that shit or not?”
The trio of alchemists had a kind of excited air about them as they claimed victory. And then, they seemed to realize that they were, in fact, correct about their guess. Freddy Stern was Freddy Cliff.
“Just for the record, I’m planning on keeping my mouth shut,” Kale suddenly added. Then, with a glare at the duo, he said, “We are gonna keep our mouths shut. Isn’t that right?”
Anya nodded enthusiastically while Henry gave a small nod of acknowledgment.
“And yes, I will gladly sell you my product.”
Henry raised a hand. “Just a moment, Kale. Mr. Stern… I believe I have a proposal for you.”
Freddy sighed. “I’m listening.”
“If your talent works as advertised, you would be stupid not to abuse it as much as humanly possible. There is not a single place on the entire planet where you will get access to experimental substances more easily than here at Starhold.”
Freddy paused. “What are you suggesting?”
“Hire us as your private team,” Kale suggested with a broad smile. “You’re clearly rich enough to afford it. Hire us, and we’ll make sure you get all the drugs.”