Mystery: Starting from the Shadow World

Chapter 16 Taking the Magic Potion

Ah oh.

Philip blinked twice, paused for a moment, and only reacted after Dunn started stamping. "Uh, this isn't what I expected. Why so fast?"

"."

Dunn stamped the seal, moved the white slip to the table, and his gray eyes deepened: "In addition, news has come from the Holy Temple that the Rose School's influence in the Kingdom of Rune has become unusual, with a large portion of them arriving in Ahova County."

hiss~

Upon hearing this news, Philip felt his heart sink. Fortunately, it wasn't specifically about Tingen, and it probably had nothing to do with him. Otherwise, he would probably be lying on the ground ready to restart the game, since he wouldn't be able to play at all.

I see. This unusual activity drew the attention of the Holy See, making them more interested in the information about the Rose School I provided. The application materials were merely incidental.

"There's one more thing."

Dunn tapped the table with his fingers and said in a serious tone, "The Holy See says you are now forbidden from leaving Tingen and cannot become a full member, even if you have enough merit left."

"Furthermore, once you are promoted to Sequence 8 'Madman', we will conduct a strict review and monitoring of you for an indefinite period."

"It will only be gradually phased out after it is confirmed that your philosophy is indeed that of the so-called temperance movement and that you have the ability to resist curses and madness."

"As for potions, if you are confident in yourself, you can have them prepared and taken by Old Neil later."

As expected, I was suspected.

Philip sighed silently to himself, somewhat expecting this, since although he claimed to be a member of the Temperance faction, he had no way of verifying his identity.

After receiving the "IOU" from Dunn's desk, he raised no objections, bowed to express his gratitude, and left the office.

The man sitting in the chair clasped his hands together, resting them on the table, his deep gray eyes staring at the doorway, remaining silent for a long time.

"Good morning, Mr. Neil!"

Inside the Night Watch team's storeroom, because of what happened yesterday, Philip had figured out the old man's personality, so he wasn't reserved and greeted him very casually and sincerely.

But the strange, almost unacceptable aura emanating from the other person still lingered in his mind.

"Oh, Lawrence, good morning."

Old Neil remained seated in his chair. When he saw Philip approaching, a smile appeared on his face. "Hmm, it's a pleasure to have you two little ones here. Hehe, you should have met Klein before."

"Yes, that's right."

As Philip answered, he walked over to the other person and placed the note Dunn had given him on the table.

"Oh, let me see. Are those materials yours?" Old Neil took the IOU in his hand and examined it carefully. Then, he used his two somewhat withered hands to support himself on the table, opened a drawer, and took out a key.

"Wait here for a moment."

"Of course, you can also use this time to help me make another copy of Emperor Rosell's diary." He smiled and winked at Philip, then went into the inner room and unlocked the iron door with a key.

Can't ask for it.

Philip was quite pleased with this, and naturally sat down in the spot where Old Neil had just been, picked up a pen and began to write, while inwardly criticizing the handwriting of this time-traveling senior.

Could it be that he's just writing whatever comes to mind because no one else can understand Chinese?

It seems like he doesn't have much self-discipline.

Amidst his fluctuating thoughts, Philip dared not rush. Following the pace he had shown yesterday, he meticulously and carefully rewrote Rosell's words, stroke by stroke, as if carving, with a slightly stiff yet earnest demeanor.

This aesthetically pleasing version is clearly superior to the original's scribbles, as anyone with a normal sense of beauty and ugliness can see.

Not long after, with two soft sounds, Philip, who had been in the zone, returned to reality and turned his head to see a small silver box already placed beside him.

"Heart-binding grass, and gray mud. Oh, I really don't know why your potion needs this, but they are indeed very expensive, so be careful."

Old Neil opened the box and showed what was inside:

A black vine covered in thorns, seemingly encircling something, and a small brown bottle tightly wrapped around something, from which a bubbling sound could be heard.

Apart from that, the other three materials are much simpler and more normal: scattered blade fragments, green oval fruits, and a few drops of golden juice.

"You can check if anything is missing," Old Neil reminded him.

"No, no need."

Philip raised his hand, his fingers touching the brim of his top hat to conceal the complex emotions that flashed in his eyes. "I think there won't be any problems after going through the procedures of the church and Mr. Neil."

Old Neil chuckled and shook his head, then patted him on the shoulder and walked straight outside. "Come with me, let's go to the Alchemy Room to concoct potions."

Alchemy room? Where else could it be?

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

Philip was puzzled, but he still closed the box, picked it up, and followed behind the other person to the crossroads, entering the last path leading to the Church of St. Serena.

As he followed Old Neil silently halfway down the path, the other man casually pressed a button on the wall, and with a faint sound, a hidden door was opened.

The beakers, balances, and test tubes—chemical equipment somewhat simpler than what he had seen in his previous school—along with the mysterious crystal ball, the dark emblem, and the large iron pot, gave Philip a silent visual shock.

Just as Philip walked in, looking dazed, Old Neil patted him on the shoulder and smiled amiably. "Although I'm very reluctant to part with these expensive equipment, if you insist, you can handle the potion-making yourself. Don't be afraid of breaking it."

"After all, just because I like the old things doesn't mean I hate applying for money to buy new ones."

Hearing these slightly teasing words, Philip, who had been somewhat tense because of Dunn's news, relaxed. He chuckled silently and handed the small silver box to the other person.

Concocting potions is not difficult. In fact, as long as you know the recipe, how to control the dosage, and how to safely put the extraordinary ingredients into the large iron pot, there will be no failures.

Old Neil skillfully prepared the potion, and before long, a cup of viscous liquid, a mixture of blood and gray, was handed to Philip.

The stench was so nauseating that he had no choice but to hold his breath and, under the somewhat moved gaze of the well-informed old Neil, drink the concocted "Prisoner" potion.

In an instant, the lifeless liquid burst forth with vitality and heat in the mouth, like a demon trying to erode the body, flowing straight out to the surrounding area.

Philip's eyes turned bloodshot. He leaned forward, his right hand tightly clutching his heart, feeling the piercing pain of the thorns, trying to keep himself rational and clear-headed.

As vision blurred, the scene of a world of shadows emerged. Beyond the lone, burning ember, at the edge of the boundless darkness, came an angry, disdainful, and suffocating roar:

I see you.

".thief!"

(End of this chapter)