Chapter 99: Escaping to the One Place that Hasn’t Been Corrupted by Capitalism (2) (Patreon)

I didn’t sleep during our travels. It’s not because I was restless, it was because I had the good stuff. I’d brought enough Coffee Juice in various flasks to last me a good while, as well as some ingredients to make more, should the time until our next restocking be longer than it thought. I’d thought that I’d need something to occupy my time with, and I was correct. 

Just as there are things to help people with alchemy, there are also things to hurt people. Considering that I’d done a lot more hurting than I’d done helping in the past year I’d been introduced to the Archduchy, I’d prudently studied that dangerous side of alchemy. 

Poisons.

I hadn’t the opportunity to practice making them much, mostly because Rashien, my sponsor, hadn’t sold much of them. He mostly dealt in the more beneficial side of alchemy. I didn’t dislike him for that, of course, but a man has certain needs that he needs to fulfill. Learning how to better kill people is one of them. 

Fortunately, using my newly acquired funds from my entirely coincidental alchemical gift, I had purchased the right ingredients to make a fairly large batch. Of course, the vast majority of my funds I’d set aside to purchase alchemy ingredients to make more Silvertrench Dew and other such supplements, but all of the profits went towards poisons.

The fact is this; I am quite weak. 

Grade G. If you look at the alphabet, that’s number 7. Grade F is a major upgrade, as the composition of one’s body fundamentally changes; Ascension. I could probably buy something fairly cheap to raise me to that level, but I still did intend on getting the gift the Archduke had initially offered through my own merit. 

At Grade E, your perception of the world shifts somehow and you’re able to view other people’s auras. I didn’t know much more about it than that. From there, the people that I’d spoken to were tight-lipped. I had only one bit of information—Grade D required one to have a certain amount of Primordial Energy, or it was impossible to reach. 

But it stood to reason that Grade D, C, B, and A would each be incrementally different and more powerful. I mean, why have a grading system were that not the case?

So, being as weak as I am, and my own progress in improving that weakness being very slow…

Well, I couldn’t kill an elephant with my fists on Earth. I don’t think any one man could. But I have confidence in killing an elephant. Poison is just that—a bridge between the unfathomable gaps that existed before me. 

I occupied my time concocting various poisons. To make a poison is not so exceptionally different from making a potion. The intent of both is to modify the body in some way. Only, the poison modifies it in a way that is slightly more harmful. Only just.

Poisons were not infallible, though. Just as one would need to use a larger serving for a larger person, in this new world I was in, I would need to use more, or simply a stronger version, to kill stronger people. For now though, I was certain that many of my poisons could debilitate, if not kill, those stronger than me. 

I made Whiterot Dust. As the name implied, it was a white dust. It was completely inert as a dust, but when digested, it eats away at the bones or chitin of an individual. It looked no different than flour or perhaps sugar, and most importantly, took some time to activate, usually around six hours. It would be easy enough to disguise as other seasonings—an effective poison.

I made Red Ocean Water. It was purportedly used as liquor for very powerful people, and was quite weaker than most of my other poisons, but it had a very important effect. When turned into a mist, it retained its potency. Looking at my scout drones, I had certain ideas in mind. 

And lastly, the most potent of them, Devil’s Ichor. It had to enter the bloodstream or equivalent to have any significant effect, and so it would need to be used with a blade, dart, or the like. It would cause the flesh to rot away. Even a small cut could mean the loss of a limb for someone like me. Just this poison alone was cause enough to consider buying a material weapon, as it would be little use on a blade of Primordial Energy.

Needless to say I handled all of them with great care. I locked my doors so that no others could interrupt my progress. These apartments, rather unlike the transport ships of the Richt Empire, had basic things like door locks. Surprisingly. 

Even still, the rooms were bare. It seemed what qualified as ‘basic amenities’ in this place was one lone all-purpose pod. Fortunately, it washed my clothes, it washed me, it kept my teeth clean… so I couldn’t complain. I’d lived in worse, to say the very least. Cardboard boxes come to mind. 

I couldn’t make as many poisons as I liked, because it was difficult to haul so many dangerous bottles around, but I made six of each. Good enough for the time being.  I kept them all in a padded case a little smaller than my head. The rest of the case was filled with the batch of supplements I’d already prepared for the next ‘gifting session.’ 

I closed the case and set it aside, sighing. My brow was alight with pain—it usually got that way after I’d been focusing on one thing for too long. Headaches, I suppose they’re called. Mortal trifles. You’d think that with super-human abilities, you’d lose headaches. False. I decided to think about happy thoughts to will the pain away. 

Yes. Happy thoughts. 

Scamming people. Free money. People telling me I’m smart. Having people do what I say. Having all of my arms again. Being better than people. Telling people I’m better than them. Being handsome. 

Truly, there is nothing better. 

Inevitably, my thoughts led me down the road to deciding what I was going to do when we arrived wherever we were going to. Ruel had mentioned a mansion. When I think about mansions, provided the mansion isn’t mine, the first thing that comes to mind is making it mine. That seemed like a good enough objective. 

I mean, our objective was to assault a mansion to create a distraction, was it not? I believe that, if the mansion were mine, people stealing things would distract me very much. In this manner, I’d be very happy to distract him. It was something I’d have to ask Ruel about. If Ruel gave the okay, that’d be fantastic. 

#####

“What?”

Ruel laughed in my face. We were in the central room, alone, with the windows still open as we careened through space. Most others had cleared out by now. 

“No. We’re an honorable mercenary group. We don’t loot. We can kill whoever we want there—that’s the point of the mission, after all—but we’re not going to loot. It would damage the reputation of the Archduchy, and then people would yell at me. You don’t want people to yell at me, do you?” Ruel took a step forward, running his fingers through his fiery hair. “Do you,” he repeated coldly. 

“I’ll banish the thought from my mind,” I said smoothly, raising my hand into the air as a pledge. “Not an item will exit that building in my possession. You have my word.”

Ruel nodded. “Good. Now go rest up, we’ve a long way, and then a long fight waiting for us.”

I turned around and walked away.

Hmm… looks like I’ll be talking to Vast, then.