The Mysterious Craftsman.

I never thought I’d run into someone twice in a single day for the same reason.

"My friend?" I asked.

"Don’t bother denying it," Bella replied. "Potions brewed by an ordinary apothecary don’t carry the same unique mana signature as items crafted by a true Craftsman. These ones do."

She leaned in, smiling, "And you introduced yourself as Nam Yein. You gave the Mayor the Weight of Fixed Phase, didn’t you? That item came from the Mysterious Craftsman too."

Nam Yein. A throwaway character who dies right at the start of the game, yet somehow I’d become notorious.

"Who would’ve thought the Mysterious Craftsman even makes potions? I have to meet them."

Bella grabbed my wrist suddenly, "Please. Let me meet your friend."

"No."

"Whyyy nottt?" she whined, dragging out the word until it grated.

I’d never realized in the game—there were no voice recordings there. Hearing it in reality was irritating as hell.

"My friend despises appearing in front of others. That’s why I gave the Mayor the item personally."

"Ah… I had heard rumors about that."

"Then why do you want to meet them so badly?" I asked, though I already had a good guess.

"To develop a new potion," she said brightly, "I’m from Ucheon Academy. You’ve heard of it, haven’t you?"

"Of course. Famous for its specialized curriculum in crafting and item usage." In fact, when I’d last played the game with a craftsman build, Ucheon was the optimal choice.

"You really do know. My specialty is potion-brewing."

I know. That was exactly why I was letting her talk this much.

"So I want to try creating something new. You heard about the dungeon transporting incident recently, right?"

"What about it?"

"The Weight of Fixed Phase prevents phase shifts. If I could study the ingredients used in that item, maybe I could reproduce the effect in a potion. Or the opposite—force a shift with a potion."

"If it’s just the ingredients, the Craftsmans at the Hunter Market would know. The Mayor must have shared the recipe."

"Yes, I already know what materials went into it. But even the experts don’t understand why those particular ingredients create that effect."

In Ucheon Academy, skilled Craftsmans and apothecaries from the Hunter Market were often invited to lecture. If even they admitted ignorance, then it was truly unknown.

"So I wanted to meet the Mysterious Craftsman directly. I heard they only supply one shop—Platinum Wings. I was on my way there when, by pure luck, I ran into you."

Bella clasped both of my arms now, eyes sparkling, "Please. I want to become the Craftsman’s disciple. I’ve learned everything my instructors can teach. There’s nothing more for me at the Academy."

Arrogant words—at least, they would have sounded that way from anyone else. A naïve student’s boast, perhaps.

But Bella wasn’t lying.

When it came to potions, she already had the knowledge and skill to work as a professional. She loved potions, lived for potions. That was Bella Ball.

Of course, that same obsession made her reckless, like earlier, drinking a faulty brew that nearly killed her.

But this is a problem.

The one she needed as a master wasn’t me.

"Please," Bella pleaded, shaking my arm. "Introduce me. Just once."

"It’s useless."

I spoke coldly, and she froze.

"You can’t possibly understand," she said, staring straight into my eyes.

"How desperate I am. How badly I want to create something new."

Her hands dropped away.

"I love brewing potions. Extracting properties from ingredients, combining them to produce exactly the effect I imagined—it’s a joy beyond compare. And when I discover the possibility of a new potion, I can’t eat, can’t sleep, can’t even go to the bathroom. Until I test it, I feel like I’ll go insane."

Her gaze made goosebumps prickle my arms.

She looked like a person madly in love. Or a lunatic with a deranged obsession. Or perhaps an addict in the grip of their drug.

"If you introduce me to the Mysterious Craftsman, I’ll repay you. I’ll give you my potions for life if you want."

"That’s tempting," I admitted.

Bella’s eyes widened hopefully.

"But when I said it’s useless, I meant it."

"…What?"

"My friend has no talent for potion-making."

"…Whaaat??"

The manic light in her eyes flickered out. She stared at me, slack-jawed, like a kid handed a math problem in another language.

"You drank them yourself. Nothing special. Just the same as what you can get anywhere in the Hunter Market."

"B-but this person crafts artifacts that even the Hunter Market can’t—"

"Equipment, sure. Tools, yes. But potions? Not really."

With Craftsman skills, you could make consumables. But to maximize their potential, you needed a separate brewing skill.

And Craftsman didn’t have it—or at least, not unlocked yet.

"…"

Bella shut her mouth, unable to argue. She’d just experienced it herself, after all.

"I think you’d be better off finding a different master."

"Who, then?" Her tone had calmed back to the softness she’d had when we first met.

"The Demon Alchemist," I said.

For a moment she looked stunned—then puffed out her cheeks.

"Pfft… hahaha!"

Doubling over, Bella laughed until tears welled in her eyes.

"Nam Yein. The Demon Alchemist doesn’t exist."

She wiped her eyes with a fingertip, still giggling.

"He was just a legend. When dungeons were still Gates, back in the early Human-Demon War, someone succeeded in creating the first potion. Most of today’s recipes trace back to him. People said no human could possess such knowledge or inspiration, so they called him the Demon Alchemist. The story says he never died, and still roams the world, researching potions to this day. But it’s all a lie."

Bella shrugged.

That little gesture of hers was maddening.

"All the potion recipes we use today," Bella said firmly, "were created over decades through trial and error by countless apothecaries. They’re not the work of one person alone."

"Is that so? If that’s what you believe, I won’t argue. No matter what I say, you won’t believe me anyway. Either way, my friend isn’t skilled at brewing potions, and hates being in front of people. So I can’t grant your request. I’ll be going now."

"A…"

I turned my back on her and began walking toward Gwangcheon—at half my usual pace.

Come on. Take the bait.

I was sure she wouldn’t let it go.

New knowledge. The possibility of a potion the world had never seen. Bella would never ignore that, no matter how impossible it sounded. She loved potions too much—her passion rivaled Eleanor’s obsession with forging equipment.

"Wa–wait a moment!!"

Hooked.

"Please, wait!" she cried, tugging on my clothes.

Just calling out would’ve been enough—now my shirt was stretched.

"What is it? Did you change your mind?" I turned to look at her.

Bella bit her lip, staring at me. I met her gaze silently.

"…Does the Demon Alchemist really exist?"

"I can’t say for sure," I replied. "But I think… probably."

Her expression clouded.

"If you want, we can go now."

"Fine. I’m already out today. Nothing to lose by trying."

I nodded.

About twenty minutes later, we entered an alley a little off from the heart of the Hunter Market.

This area wasn’t shops for gear or tools, but eateries. Where there were people, there was food. Most were simple diners: set meals, stews, sandwiches, gimbap, ramen. Everyday fare for workers in the market.

"Um…" Bella tugged at my clothes again.

"You’re stretching it. Just say my name," I said, glancing at her.

She let go and looked up at me, "Nam Yein. This doesn’t look like a place for a Demon Alchemist. It’s all restaurants. Not a potion shop in sight."

"Just follow me."

I walked on until we stopped in front of a small café. Barely six tables total, inside and out, and every one of them was full. Outside, customers waited with smartphones in hand, checking numbers for their turn.

"All that walking made me thirsty. Let’s grab a drink. My treat."

Bella eyed me with open distrust but followed anyway. She must’ve been thirsty too.

"What do you want?" I asked at the kiosk.

Scanning the menu, she said, "A non-alcoholic mojito."

"Got it." I ordered that for her and a lemon iced tea for myself.

Ten minutes later, our drinks came.

"Please enjoy," said a brown-haired woman with a warm smile, handing them over.

"Here."

Bella snatched the mojito eagerly, straw between her lips as she gulped.

I sipped my iced tea slowly, watching her. The heat in my body cooled instantly.

"!"

Her reaction was immediate. Eyes wide as saucers, she lowered the cup, staring at it. After a few seconds of silence, she drank again.

"…"

She kept repeating it—sip, mutter, sip again.

"Well?" I asked.

"This… could it be…" She hesitated, then leaned closer to whisper in my ear, "Is there a potion mixed into this drink?"

"If there were, the city would’ve shut this place down already," I said with a grin. "And like you said, potions carry a mana signature. This doesn’t. It’s just a drink."

"I know… I didn’t sense any mana. But the feel of it… It’s like a blend of HP Recovery and Burn Salve. No, wait… the taste is too well-masked. Potions are far too foul to hide with just sugar and mint…"

She went back and forth between muttering and drinking until her cup was empty.

"This won’t do," Bella admitted, holding the cup of melted ice. "I can’t figure it out."

Then she brightened suddenly. "I’ll just ask the barista directly."

"Wait."

"Why?"

"There are too many people here. If you ask about potions now, what do you think will happen?"

She froze. "…True."

"This café closes at three. We’ll wait until then."

"Mm… fine."

We waited in the shade nearby.

Even there, the midsummer heat was suffocating. Yet somehow, my body didn’t feel hot at all—almost as if cool air alone surrounded me. Bella, despite her long-sleeved dress, wasn’t sweating either.

Thirty minutes later—

"Ah!" Bella gasped, looking toward the café.

The brown-haired woman behind the counter had begun clearing tables.

"It’s time!" Bella darted forward with surprising speed, her usual drawn-out tone at odds with her quick steps.

"Wouldn’t it be better to wait a little longer?" I followed after her, but she didn’t listen.

"Ex–excuse me!"

The woman looked up with a wry smile, dishcloth in hand.

"Sorry, we’re closed."

"Did you… put a potion in the drinks?"

The woman froze.

"…"

"…"

In the silence, their eyes locked.

(End of Chapter)

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