Mystery: Starting from the Shadow World

Chapter 135 Commissioned Potion Production

In front of No. 48 Hewan Avenue.

Having already visited the inventor Repard, Klein returned by carriage and, after confirming the safety of the house through divination, rang the doorbell.

Just ten seconds later, the door opened, and a refined and handsome man with a gentle demeanor opened it.

After recognizing Klein's appearance, the other person frowned slightly, but quickly regained their composure. "Sir, is there anything I can help you with?"

"Hello."

Klein removed his hat and bowed. After confirming that the person in front of him didn't look like him in appearance or age, he asked, "Is Mr. Emlyn White home? I have something I'd like to ask him."

"Emlin?" Mr. White paused for two seconds, and before he could say anything more, a voice rang out from the left:

"What do you want from me?"

Klein looked in the direction of the sound and saw a handsome man of about twenty-seven or twenty-eight standing a few meters away. The man's hair was combed back to the side, and he had a serious demeanor with a touch of dashingness. His eyes and brows revealed an undisguised arrogance.

In his hands, he was incongruously holding a bag containing what appeared to be a gorgeous long dress adorned with lace and ribbons; Klein couldn't discern anything else about it.

"Hello, Mr. White."

Emlyn had already reached the door. After letting his father return to his room, he carefully examined Klein for a few moments before saying casually, "Just say what you need to say."

Klein nodded, then lowered his voice and got straight to the point: "A friend of yours asked me to seek your help, hoping that you, a noble vampire, could help make some potions."

What?

Emlyn's heart skipped a beat, and he frantically searched his mind for possible answers, finally murmuring a name with a hint of uncertainty: "Jane Charlotte?"

He was glad he had asked for the name back then, otherwise he would have to spend time describing what the other person looked like.

"That's right."

"Ha, that guy." Emlyn walked into the house first, waving as he went. "If you're not in a hurry, you can come in and sit for a while, and then we can talk about the specifics."

Klein glanced at the sun, which was still some distance from noon, then followed him inside and sat down on the sofa as directed.

Emlyn went upstairs to the second floor, saying he needed to return to his room and put his valuables away first.

After consulting with him, Mr. White's wife, Emlyn White's mother, made Klein a cup of black tea and then had a brief conversation with him.

His words carried a hint of probing, but for Klein, who hadn't come with any ill intentions and possessed the "Joker" ability, dealing with this kind of thing was simply a matter of passing the time.

Not long after, Emlyn came downstairs, led Klein to a table in the dining room, and then said somewhat impatiently:

"Alright, just say what you need to say. Considering what you just said about 'noble vampires,' I can grant you and me your requests this time, as long as it's within my power."

No, what's the rush?

Klein suppressed the urge to twitch his lips and, not intending to linger any longer, briefly relayed Philip's request:

"If someone's skin turns pale after taking a potion, can you create a potion that permanently restores their skin to its original state, or only temporarily?"

"The 'corpse collector'?"

Emlyn muttered something, then waved his hand dismissively. "This is easy for me, but a complete restoration is impossible. This change is a permanent effect caused by the extraordinary properties of the potion."

"I can make the potion. The materials aren't expensive; each potion costs 10 sulphurs and lasts for 12 hours. But let me make this clear beforehand: no matter how much you buy, don't expect any discounts from me!"

Ten soules a day. I don't know if Philip has that much money. But if it were me, unless I were desperate for money, I probably wouldn't stop the potion service. Klein pondered for a few seconds, thinking that he could get reimbursed when he got back, and took out three 10-pound notes from his pocket and said:

"Then I'll take 60, but I need to get a portion of them today."

Emlyn's blood-red eyes looked at the three banknotes on the table. After hesitating for a few seconds, he said reluctantly, "I don't have any materials on hand. Ten is the limit. The rest will be paid in full in seven days."

"Wait for me for fifteen minutes."

Within the Shadow World.

With no hope of leaving, Philip looked around with some confusion, wondering if the being hidden in the shadows didn't want to give him any more experience points, or if it was secretly plotting something even bigger.

But none of that matters.

Having already performed divination and various examinations, Philip had no better option than to be extra cautious. So, after confirming that his extraordinary traits and "creeping hunger" were unaffected, he stopped worrying about them.

In the firelight, a blurry, transparent spirit appeared before Philip. He was wearing a naval lieutenant commander's uniform and had a brown beard. His face was filled with pain and confusion.

"Zilingus is dead, don't worry, you're free now. If you could, could you tell me the cause of your death?"

Since the goal was simply to learn about the other person's extraordinary characteristics and the recipe for "The Interrogator," Philip did not directly ask about these matters out of ulterior motives, but instead prepared to discuss other things.

Not a single mistake, not a single poem, not a single post, not a single piece of content, not a single look!

"I... I was captured by a Fussack in a naval battle, and then I ended up inside your glove. Who is Ziringus?"

Fusak people?

Philip frowned, but considering the possibility of continuing the conversation in this direction, he decided to ask about the "Interrogator's" potion recipe after the other person finished describing the general appearance of the Fussack and the time of the naval battle.

"The main ingredients are the horn of the shimmering black serpent and the dust of the spirit of the lake, while the auxiliary ingredients are..."

Hearing this, Philip breathed a sigh of relief, then lowered his eyes slightly to look at the figure before him that seemed destined to vanish at any moment, and asked:

"Do you have any last wishes?"

"Last Wish."

The man forced a bitter smile, then shook his head. "I know a long time has passed, and my wife, my children, everything I know has changed drastically."

"If I could, I'd like to go back and see them, even if it's just for a few minutes, to see if they're doing well, to see my Annie, to see Daniel, and to say I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, sir. Thank you for freeing me from this predicament, and thank you for listening to my last words."

The figure of the naval lieutenant commander gradually disappeared, but in his final moments, he smiled and calmly accepted everything.

(End of this chapter)