Unable to repay my student loans, I had no choice but to work part-time as a demon hunter.

July 12, Golden Lion Avenue, Montfort Mansion. Gordon is going to give Charlotte a medical check-up.

Gordon arrived on horseback. The house was heavily guarded, with family guards standing on both sides. Even though they were very familiar with Gordon, they checked him several times before letting him in.

"Excuse me, Mr. Vic." The guard nodded. "The city isn't safe lately."

"I understand, I understand." Gordon stepped forward.

This is a business worth tens of thousands of pounds.

Upon entering the foyer, Charlotte stood under the archway, simultaneously checking three lists.

She wore a light blue dress, her blonde hair held in place by a silver hair ornament, and looked somewhat tired as she nervously reviewed the guest list and the various rules of the Source Exchange.

"Didn't you get any rest last night?" Gordon walked up to Charlotte.

"I'm so nervous. There are so many details to check, and tomorrow is a big day," Charlotte said, sounding a bit troubled.

"What you need to check most right now is your rest status. Insufficient sleep will affect your heart rate and the excitability of your nerves. Tomorrow you will be refining a medium-sized source substance."

"There are still 27 procedures that need to be confirmed."

"They were given to the twenty-seven men who received wages from the Monford family."

"Sigh." Charlotte glanced at Gordon for a moment, then finally handed the complicated documents to the servant. "What's next?"

"As your most important refining expert, I need to examine your body. Getting the details wrong will only give you a few days of gossip. But if you mess up the source material, you'll be laughed at for the rest of your life."

"Hey!" Charlotte thought it made a lot of sense.

They went to Charlotte's bedroom.

Gordon pushed open the door and was greeted by the scent of hazelnuts. He then saw a large pink bed, a dressing table piled high with bottles and jars, a double-barreled shotgun against the headboard, and a bedside table with a small silver alarm clock next to it.

The room contained jewelry, dresses, flowers, paintings, and portraits, but no textbooks.

Charlotte's bed. It looks like someone spilled a huge tub of strawberry syrup on it.

[A double-barreled shotgun. Used to shred those heartless bastards who play with emotions.]

Cosmetics. A secret men can't understand.

This was the first time Gordon had given Charlotte a physical examination.

She sat awkwardly on the large pink bed.

"What can I say, Gordon? Don't do anything bad."

"I didn't do anything wrong. Really, it was just a medical checkup. What doctors worry about most is patients talking nonsense and hiding their illness. You told me not to drink water, but you drank a small bowl of porridge. You yourself have a history of this, knowing that tomorrow is important, but you still refuse to go to bed early."

"Hey, hey." Charlotte unconsciously touched her elbow. "So, do you want... me... to take it off...?"

"It won't damage your reputation. Just take off your coat and roll up your sleeves to your elbows."

"..."

"You look a little disappointed."

"No." Charlotte unbuttoned her short jacket and put it aside, revealing a close-fitting white shirt with a beautiful lace trim below the collar.

She took off her corset and put it aside, pushed her sleeves up to her elbows, then raised her hands and gathered her blonde hair into a ponytail, tying it with a blue ribbon.

"shoe."

Charlotte took off her cream-colored round-toed leather shoes, revealing her small feet encased in fine white stockings. Her slender feet were neatly wrapped, the fine fabric clinging to her arches and outlining soft, flowing curves. Her toes instinctively tightened through the soft stocking material.

Gordon took a deep breath.

"Very good, very good." Gordon began to examine Charlotte. "Let me show you my treasure."

"Huh?" Charlotte was taken aback.

A thin thread flew out and brushed past Charlotte's wrist; she felt as if a strand of hair had come from somewhere, tickling her.

A thin thread gently undulates along her pulse; Gordon reads the rhythm, measures her temperature, senses her blood pressure, and listens to her breathing to ensure she is in good health.

What medications have you taken in the past seven days?

"Vitamin complex, sleep-aiding herbal tea."

"Element?"

"Valeriana, calendula, and lemon balm."

"Have you been drinking?"

"I've had half a glass of white wine every day this week."

"Your body will receive a medium-sized source substance tomorrow, so please don't give it any alcohol beforehand. Also, get a good night's sleep tonight."

"I'll do as you say." Charlotte nodded. "Oh, by the way... you should take a look at this."

She handed me a document.

Gordon flipped through the document, which described the refining equipment provided by the Source Material Exchange, which he would use tomorrow.

Judging from the sketches and descriptions, Gordon will be using the most professional spiritual reaction vessel he has ever seen tomorrow.

It is made of stainless steel and wrapped with a spiritual insulation layer inside and out. The multi-channel drip rack on the top can control the speed of dispensing various auxiliary materials at any time.

The reactor is also connected to a sedimentation furnace and a quality lens.

When the refined product is purified, pale, silvery, clear gold, and even higher quality spiritual spectra will be reflected in the night sky, and even the finest impurities and activity decay can be seen.

The moment the potion is formed, it illuminates the entire hall, ensuring that the alchemist cannot conceal failure or use rhetoric to embellish the result.

That light will be both Gordon's achievement and the city's first impression of Charlotte's fate.

In addition, the precipitate and the separation liquid are also of special grade.

All necessary supplies, such as purified water, spirits, fats, wine, and nectar, will be prepared. Only human blood will need to be prepared on-site.

The equipment and materials are top-of-the-line, more than enough even for refining extra-large source materials.

"How is it? Is there a problem?" Charlotte asked.

"No problem, they're all the same, the best equipment, the best materials. Any difference in quality is only related to the refiner himself." Gordon closed the document and handed it back.

Are you worried about being compared to others?

"I'm not afraid."

Charlotte lay on the bed, watching Gordon for a while, feeling both nervous and expectant.

She could only think of other things to distract herself.

"Yes, I'll buy you a new outfit, Gordon. You either have to wear that overly poor old coat or that overly intimidating investigator's trench coat. I'll get you something you can wear out tomorrow."

"Then I owe you money for another piece of clothing."

"You owe me too much." Charlotte turned around.

Before leaving, they went to the Earl's study.

Earl Guy Monford was reading a letter from Duke Manville. The Manville family was one of the main controllers of the Lundenim Source Material Exchange and one of the nine dukes of the empire. For them, medium-sized source material was also an asset. The earl had negotiated with the head of the Manville family to secure this opportunity.

"How is it? Are you confident?" The Earl looked at Gordon.

"good."

"Duke Edgar Manville just sent a letter; he still recommends that I change the alchemist." The count put the letter down.

"How so?"

"He didn't belittle anyone; he simply praised the importance of nurturing young talent, explained the significance of risk control, and finally suggested that I hire a renowned alchemist to supervise you."

"The implication is that young talent is worth nurturing, but don't put them to the test in such a large setting. What's your opinion?"

"I think he's right," the Earl concluded. "The other two alchemy experts who will be appearing, Bradshaw and Herman, are both renowned alchemists in Lundnim, and you haven't even graduated from university yet. Mr. Vic, let me confirm again, tomorrow night I'm betting more than just whether a source material can be formed."

"I understand. There's also Charlotte's fate, the Monford family's reputation—these will affect the next few decades."

"Can you shoulder such a heavy responsibility?"

"Yes. And I'll make it clear that I not only want to concoct the best potions, but I also want to help Charlotte continue on this extraordinary path. I'm very grateful for this opportunity."

Hearing this, Earl Montfort reluctantly nodded.

Whether she succeeds or fails, Gordon will stay by Charlotte's side and support her through the rest of her journey.

The Earl folded the letter and pushed today's May Square newspaper to Gordon from the corner of the table.

"Midsummer Ceremony: A city-wide event you can't miss."

"Master Bradshaw, with 32 years of professional experience, has publicly refined 17 medium-sized source materials with a zero failure record. He is an alchemy consultant for Midas Industries..."

"Master Hermann, the 'Mercury Sage,' has led high-level alchemy projects in multiple countries, but the specific results are largely undisclosed..."

"Gordon Vick".

"Oh no, the newspaper is out of ink." Gordon looked up.

"Compared to the two of them, you're like someone who just randomly appeared here." The count sighed and continued flipping through the newspaper.

The Blackwater River Evening News used even more direct language, questioning why a student was allowed to stand on the stage.

The Lundnim Morning Post briefly introduced Gordon, outlining some of his public involvements to ensure he wasn't just a nobody. However, it also implied that he lacked a public reputation in alchemy and had never received formal alchemical training.

The Imperial Alchemy Bulletin interviewed several alchemists, most of whom considered it "a complete humiliation to the Logris Empire's alchemy community."

The jarring questioning was so clear that the Earl of Montfort could feel his source material, the "Golden Lineage," was being unnecessarily degraded.

"They're arguing about whether Bradshaw or Herman can brew the highest quality potions. Looks like nobody cares about me." Gordon flipped through the pages.

"Aren't you angry?" Charlotte asked, noticing Gordon's unfazed expression.

"No, do you have any over-the-counter trading, any kind of underground gambling, where you bet on who can refine the highest quality?" Gordon was prepared to invest 100 gold pounds.

"..." Earl Monford took a deep breath, "Don't give anyone a reason to accuse us of manipulating the ceremony."

"That makes some sense."

"Mr. Vic, I don't expect you to do anything spectacular that day. Just make the potion."

"Understood. I will try my best." Gordon nodded.

As for what color the potion will be after it's finished, he wasn't sure.

Pale is the heavy reality of failure, Silver is a barely acceptable opportunity, and Gold is enough to win applause.

Above the pure gold lies the true red quality potion. As red as blood, as fiery as fire.

If it were truly refined to that level and then given to Charlotte, the Midsummer Ceremony would truly become an extremely magnificent event.