Chapter 16 - Chapter 13: The Green Stain and the New Project

🌿🔎⚠️: Forest Foraging and Toxic Surprises

The forest was quiet, save for the crunch of dry leaves underfoot. Paul moved slowly, eyes scanning the base of ancient trees for the specific jagged leaves of Moonshade Moss. Beside him, Lisse darted back and forth, her elven ears twitching at every rustle of wind, taking her role as assistant very seriously today.

"Young Master! I found it! I found one for you!" Lisse shouted, her voice echoing through the clearing. She waved a bright, vibrant purple stalk in the air like a trophy.

Paul looked up and offered a genuine smile. "Good job, Lisse. Thank you."

But as she hurried closer, his smile vanished instantly. His expression went flat.

"Lisse," Paul said, perfectly calm but firm. "Drop that. Right now."

Lisse froze mid-step, eyes wide. "Wait, why? It's so pretty and —"

"That is a Hemlock Creeper," Paul pointed out, gesturing to the oily sheen on the leaves. "Highly poisonous. If you get the sap on your skin, you'll itch for a week. If you eat it… your heart stops."

Lisse let out a small shriek and threw the plant away as if it had turned into a snake. She wiped her hands frantically on her apron, looking startled and pale.

Paul let out a short, dry laugh. "Well, at least we know your 'pretty plant' radar works, even if your 'safety' radar doesn't. Just stick to the list I gave you."

"I'm so sorry, Young Master! I'll be more careful!" she stammered, checking her fingers for purple stains.

They continued searching for another twenty minutes. Paul moved deeper into a damp, shaded thicket where sunlight barely touched the ground. Suddenly, his gaze locked onto a strange plant nestled in the mud — pale green, with thick succulent leaves and tiny translucent white berries.

He plucked it carefully by the root and called out, "Lisse, come here."

Lisse brushed dirt off her knees and walked over. "Did you find something, Master?"

Paul held the plant up. Lisse leaned in, squinting, poking it once before assessing.

"Oh, that? That's just Silk-Suckling Weed. Grows everywhere near water. Mediocre, honestly. Herbalists ignore it — no real healing properties. Can't close wounds or stop fevers."

"Is it toxic?" Paul asked, turning it over.

"Not at all. It's very mild. The good thing is it holds water even in droughts. The bad thing — sap is way too sticky. Put it on a wound and it glues your clothes to your skin. Totally useless for medicine."

Paul stared at the sticky sap oozing from the broken stem, a slow, calculating look crossing his face.

"I've decided," he said. "I'm going to make a cosmetic out of this."

Lisse's eyes widened to saucers. "A… a cosmetic? Face cream for noble ladies?" She looked at him worriedly. "Young Master, you almost floated away last week! If this makes someone grow a second nose or start glowing, the Marquis will have both our heads!"

Paul looked at the plant silently, unbothered. "It won't make anyone glow. It has high moisture retention and a cooling effect. If I stabilize the viscosity, it'll outperform any expensive oil in the capital."

He tucked the weed into his satchel. "Don't worry. I know what I'm doing. Now, let's go. We need to head north; the high-grade herbs should be ready there."

"Yes, Young Master," Lisse sighed, still unconvinced. "Just… please, no more floating."

🌲🧊💢: North Forest and Unstoppable Force

The north forest was noticeably cooler, the air thick with damp earth and pine. Here the canopy was so dense the ground was carpeted in deep green moss instead of grass.

Paul moved with clinical precision — not just looking for plants, but for the specific soil conditions that yielded high-grade variations. He stopped by a rotted log, kneeling to inspect small blue-capped mushrooms.

"Lisse, keep an eye out for White-Veined Clover," Paul said without looking back. "They grow near the oldest tree roots. Avoid ones with yellow spots — bitter, ruin the potency."

"White veins, no yellow spots. Got it," Lisse replied, checking her hand-drawn guide before touching anything.

They worked in steady rhythm for nearly an hour. The only sounds were Paul's shears and Lisse's heavy breathing as she climbed over tangled roots.

"I found them, Young Master," Lisse called quietly, pointing to a patch of perfectly white-veined herbs in the shade of a massive oak.

Paul inspected and nodded approvingly. "High-grade. The mana concentration here must be higher than maps indicated."

As he harvested, Lisse sat on a nearby rock wiping sweat.

"So… the sticky weed cosmetic. Are you really trying it tonight?"

Paul placed the clovers into a lined compartment. "Yes. If distillation goes well, I'll have a prototype by morning."

Lisse looked at his bag, then back at him. "You're always so busy. First medicine, now this. Don't you ever get tired?"

Paul paused, hand hovering over a leaf. He thought of his past life — endless shelves, fluorescent lights, feeling like a replaceable cog. Then he looked at the vibrant forest and the shimmering vial in his bag.

"This kind of work doesn't make me tired," he said simply.

He stood up and slung the heavy bag over his shoulder. "We've got enough. Let's head back before the light fades. I have a lot of refining to do."

Lisse jumped up, brushing moss from her skirt. "Right behind you, Young Master. I'll prep the jars."

They turned toward the path, leaving the quiet shadows behind.

The edge of the woods was in sight, golden sunset peeking through treetops — when suddenly the temperature plummeted.

A low, guttural growl vibrated through the air.

From behind frost-covered rocks emerged three Frost-Gnasher Wolves — pony-sized beasts with jagged icicle fur and predatory freezing-white eyes. As they stepped forward, grass shattered like glass under their paws.

Lisse dropped her basket, hands glowing faint green mana. The playful maid vanished, replaced by a sharp protector.

"Young Master, get back," she said, voice serious. "I'll handle them. They're fast, but a slice can take them down."

She stepped forward ready to lunge, but Paul caught her shoulder.

"Wait."

Lisse looked confused, mana flickering. "Master? There are three — if they surround us —"

"I know," Paul interrupted, flat and unbothered. He stepped past her, eyes fixed on the lead wolf. "Let me handle it. I've been cooped up too long. I want to test my strength and the limits of my gravity."

Lisse blinked, lowering her hands. "Gravity? But your mana pool is still —"

"It's not magic, Lisse," Paul said, narrowing his gaze. "It's power. There's a difference."

He didn't draw a weapon or chant. He simply exhaled and shifted his weight.

The lead wolf snarled and lunged, claws aimed at Paul's throat.

Paul didn't flinch. He raised one hand and flicked his fingers downward.

"Weight."

In an instant, the air around the wolf seemed to solidify. The beast slammed into the dirt with a sickening thud as if an invisible mountain had dropped onto its back. The ground cracked into a small crater; the wolf couldn't even howl — pressure crushed the air from its lungs.

The other two wolves paused in confusion, then snapped and charged from both sides.

Paul spread his arms slightly, palms facing outward.

"Repel."

An invisible shockwave rippled outward — not wind or light, but sheer distortion of space. The wolves were launched backward as if hit by a speeding carriage, tumbling through the air before slamming into trees with enough force to shatter their icy armor.

Silence returned. The lead wolf whimpered under Paul's pressure.

Paul looked at his hands, closing them into fists. The strain was there, but manageable. He glanced back at Lisse, who stood frozen, jaw slightly open.

"Progress is… acceptable," Paul said, shrugging his shoulders.

He released the pressure. The lead wolf scrambled up, tail tucked, and fled with its companions.

"Let's go," Paul said, picking up his satchel as if nothing happened. "We're losing the light."

Lisse stared at the crater, then at Paul's retreating back. "That… definitely wasn't magic," she whispered before hurrying to catch up.

⚗️✨🧪: Lab Experiments and Stone Face Incidents

Lanterns in Paul's secret lab flickered, casting long shadows over rows of glass jars. On the main workbench, the Silk-Suckling Weed lay washed and prepared. Lisse stood to the side clutching clean towels, watching with fascination and dread.

"You're really using that… crushing thing on plants?" she whispered.

"Compression," Paul corrected without looking up. He set up a reinforced glass beaker inside a modified iron frame. "Traditional distillation uses heat — but heat destroys the enzymes I need. Pure mechanical force is the only way."

He dropped the thick leaves into the beaker. Normally, an industrial press would be required.

Paul held his hand over the opening, focusing on invisible forces — weight of air, pull of earth.

"Condense."

Lisse gasped as the air shimmered and warped. The leaves didn't just squash; they shrank inward, collapsing under a localized gravity field no larger than a coin.

A low vibrating hum filled the room. The iron frame groaned.

Slowly liquid separated. Instead of cloudy green juice, impurities sank to the bottom while crystal-clear, glowing serum rose to the top.

Paul's brow furrowed; sweat formed on his forehead. Micro-scale gravity control was far harder than slamming wolves into dirt — it required surgical precision.

Finally, he snapped his hand away. The hum stopped instantly.

At the bottom sat dry grey husks — every drop of moisture wrung out. Above floated about two ounces of shimmering liquid, like liquid diamonds.

"It's… clear," Lisse murmured. "Doesn't look messy at all."

Paul touched a tiny drop to the back of his hand. The cooling sensation was immediate — not oily or sticky, but as if his skin breathed mountain air.

"Gravity removed excess mucilage," Paul noted, tired but satisfied. "Ultra-fine serum. Base is complete."

"What now? Sell it?" Lisse asked.

"No. First shelf-life test. And…" He glanced at her wind-burned cheeks. "…we need a human trial."

Lisse stepped back. "If I turn into a diamond, I'm not responsible!"

Paul chuckled softly and cleaned his tools. "Get some rest. Tomorrow we'll see if the future of cosmetics is born in a storage closet."

Hours later, a single candle remained lit. Paul had worked six hours trying to balance the serum's stickiness with stabilizing mineral powder. Lisse yawned nearby, but stayed alert.

"Young Master… maybe stop," she whispered. "Sap's everywhere."

"One more adjustment," Paul muttered. The mixture refused to bind — every time he compressed it, it became tacky like industrial glue.

In frustration, he tested it on his own skin, spreading a thick layer over his cheek and forehead.

"The cooling is excellent, but —"

A faint click echoed.

The lab air was dry; the mineral powder reacted instantly. Within seconds, the paste didn't dry — it petrified.

Paul tried to open his mouth. Couldn't. Tried to blink. His eyelid was stuck shut.

"Mmph! Lmph!" he grunted, voice muffled behind what felt like solid granite.

Lisse snapped awake. "Young Master? Why are you a statue?!" She poked his cheek — clink, clink — like tapping stone.

"It hardened like rock!" she shrieked. She splashed water over him, but it rolled off the smooth grey surface.

Paul gestured frantically toward the tool rack.

"You want… the chisel?" Lisse asked, horrified.

Paul nodded as much as the stone allowed.

For an hour, the quiet lab echoed with clink-tink-clink. Lisse trembled as she carefully chiseled bits of the grey "cosmetic" away while Paul sat perfectly still, radiating deep regret.

Finally, the last piece fell away.

Paul rubbed his sore jaw. Skin was red, but he remained calm. "Note to self: reduce mineral ratio."

"You almost became a garden ornament!" Lisse wailed, dropping the chisel.

Paul ignored the drama and looked at the remaining serum. He'd filtered out the hardening agent. It was pure now.

"The stone mask was a failure. But the base is perfected. Lisse, come here."

"No! No more stone!"

"It's safe now. Final version."

He applied a pea-sized amount to her face. It vanished instantly, leaving no residue — just a faint, healthy glow.

💫🛍️👩: Radiant Results and A New Opportunity

By morning, Lisse stood before the mirror in the servants' quarters, jaw dropping.

Her skin didn't just look good — it looked ethereal. Windburn was gone. Pores invisible. Her face felt soft as silk. She looked like an elf princess, not a tired maid.

When she walked into the kitchen, the other servants froze.

"Lisse? Did you get a blessing?" one cook asked, squinting.

"Your face… it's sparkling," another whispered.

She hurried back to Paul's lab, distressed. "Young Master! Take it back! Or make a weaker version!"

Paul looked up from notes. "Why? Rash?"

"No! It's too effective!" Lisse cried, pointing at her reflection in a polished beaker. "The butler stared three times! Guards are acting weird! I'm a maid! I can't be this distracting while scrubbing floors! People will think I'm slacking off to put on makeup!"

Paul let out an amused laugh and shrugged. "Sounds like a personal problem, Lisse. For me — the product is ready for market."

Later, Paul stood on a busy street corner in the capital holding a small wooden box. Lisse kept pulling her hood lower to hide her glowing skin from curious stares.

"We need a 'Face'," Paul murmured. "Someone high-status. If a maid uses it, it's a curiosity. If a Duchess uses it, it's a revolution."

"Can we find one quickly and go home?" Lisse whispered. "I feel like a lighthouse."

As they navigated the crowd, a carriage bearing a familiar crest slowed nearby. A woman stepped out — elegant yet practical robes, sharp eyes with a warmth that softened the air.

It was Amelia Dunham.

She gasped in genuine surprise. "Oh! It's you two! The ones from the forest!" She hurried over, ignoring her attendant's confused look. "It's great to see you again! I worried you might've run into trouble after we parted."

Paul bowed politely, Lisse following suit. "It is an honor, My Lady. I'm Paul, and this is Lisse."

"Lovely names," Amelia smiled. She glanced at the box, then at Lisse's radiant skin, her pharmacist's intuition tingling. "You look like you're searching for something… or selling something?"

Paul hesitated, but Amelia's eyes sparkled.

"You know — I own a private pharmacy nearby. Why don't you come work there? Sell through my shop."

They looked at her in shock. Paul blinked, his stoic mask slipping. "Is that truly okay? We're strangers."

"We wouldn't want to trouble you," Lisse added quickly.

Amelia waved it off with a gentle laugh. "No trouble at all. Honestly, I couldn't just leave you wandering. As a pharmacist I see potential. As a mother… I see a young man carrying a heavy burden alone. You shouldn't have to hope for luck when I can give you a door to walk through."

Paul froze. Her words — unrequested kindness — triggered something deep.

[Flashback]

A quiet Seoul apartment. Young Jaekyun hurriedly tied shoes. "I'm going! Late for lecture!"

"Wait! Jaekyun!"

His sister Jaehyun ran from the kitchen holding a bento box. "You forgot lunch. Again."

Jaekyun scratched his neck sheepishly. "Thanks, Noona. Stayed up studying."

When he reached for the bag, she didn't let go. She looked at him — tired face, dark circles, thin shoulders.

"Jaekyun…" She released the lunch, straightened his collar, gave a bittersweet smile. "Don't work too hard, okay? Health matters more than grades."

[Present]

Paul looked down, grip tightening on the box. The noise of the capital faded.

"Young Master?" Lisse asked softly. "Everything okay?"

Paul shook his head, clearing the memory. He looked up at Amelia, gaze clearer and more determined.

"Just thinking… We accept. Please, take care of us."

Amelia beamed. "Wonderful! No time to waste — follow me!"

A few days later…

That evening, the Countess of Beltran visited Amelia's shop for digestive tea. While Amelia was in the back, the Countess spotted an unlabeled jar — a sample Paul had left behind.

Thinking it was hand cream, she applied a generous amount to her dry, cracked knuckles.

By the time she reached her carriage, she let out a delighted scream. Her hands looked twenty years younger.

By nightfall, tea parties across the capital whispered of the "Miracle of the Dunham Pharmacy," and the hunt for the mysterious new alchemist had officially begun. ✨🛍️💖