The alchemist behind the counter… a middle-aged man wearing thick, potion-stained protective lenses and a canvas apron… looked up from grinding a vibrant purple root in a mortar. His eyes swept over the finely woven, high-quality silk polo I had stripped from Luke Granhart's corpse, which peeked out slightly from beneath the heavy folds of my canvas cloak.
"Hello, fellow researcher, what can I do for you today? Looking for some specialized reagents for your laboratory, or perhaps some fresh glassware? You've picked the perfect day; our 50% clearance applies to everything in stock." the merchant said, his tone instantly shifting into a respectful, professional cadence.
Hearing him address me as a researcher brought a subtle, wry amusement to my chest. Thanks to the refined, academic look of Luke's tailored merchant polo, I effortlessly looked the part of a standard professor or an elite academy alchemist visiting the commercial sector for raw supplies. It was a brilliant, accidental cover that completely masked the lethal, blood-drenched bounty hunter hiding beneath the fabric.
I didn't answer vocally, keeping my mute profile intact. Instead, I stood by the counter and subtly pulled out the hand-written tactical document Maine had surrendered to me before the forest explosion. My single green eye scanned the precise, dense formulas scribbled across the worn parchment, breaking down the exact chemical composition required to forge this high-dispersion weapon:
Tactical Formula: 2-Chlorobenzalmalononitrile (C10H5ClN2)
Classification: Potent organic lacrymatory agent (CS compound).
Symptoms are severe irritation of the ocular mucous membranes, localized chemical dermatitis on exposed skin, and immediate respiratory tract spasms.
Effect: Execute
rigorous titration 2–3 times to ensure maximum purity and chemical accuracy. Post-titration, utilize a steady Bunsen burner to gently evaporate a portion of the neutralized solution within the reaction beaker, monitoring the precise thermal thresholds with a glass thermometer until crystal observation is achieved.
Thanks to the 50% discount, the price of these volatile chemical components, high-grade glass beakers, precise thermometers, and titration setups was cut completely in half. I could buy enough bulk raw materials to manufacture a massive tactical supply of tear gas canisters, ensuring I had a devastating, non-lethal crowd-control option to blind the guards when I eventually infiltrated the Immoral Knights' base.
I reached for my notepad and stubby pencil, ready to translate Maine's hyper-specific scientific notes into a commercial shopping list for the unsuspecting merchant. I would purchase the necessary chemical precursors, medical-grade stabilizing agents, and delicate glass instruments right here, laying the groundwork to drastically elevate my operational strength for the battles ahead.
Using my remaining right hand, navigating carefully since my left arm was nothing but a sealed, quiet stump beneath my cloak, I slid the handwritten page across the wooden counter to the merchant. The alchemist adjusted his thick spectacles and leaned over the paper, his eyes scanning the dense, meticulous step-by-step process Maine had left behind:
Tear gas recipe by Maine
Step 1: Utilize a 250 mL Erlenmeyer flask as the primary reaction vessel, a 50mL graduated burette secured by a heavy laboratory stand and clamp, a 100 -250mL
collection beaker for rinsing, a thermal tripod with wire gauze, and a precise glass thermometer.
Step 2:
High-purity aliphatic monocarboxylic acid matrix (5% acetic acid solution), solid anhydrous sodium hydroxide (NaOH) pellets, distilled water (H2O), and a 3,3-bis(4-hydroxyphenyl)-2-benzofuran-1(3H)-one indicator (phenolphthalein).
Step 3: Standardise the alkaline medium by dissolving exactly 4g of NaOH pellets into 1L of distilled H2O. Swirl consistently, utilizing mild heat to accelerate dissolution while maintaining strict thermal control below 60 degree Celsius via the thermometer to prevent violent exothermic surging.
Step 4: Flush and prime the burette with the prepared alkaline solution, recording the meniscus baseline. Transfer a precise 10mL aliquot of the acidic matrix into the Erlenmeyer flask, dilute with 50mL of distilled water, and introduce 2–3 drops of the indicator.
Step 5: Dispense the alkaline solution dropwise under continuous, smooth agitation. The reaction reaches absolute equivalence the precise moment the colorless solution shifts to a permanent, faint pink hue that resists fading. Execute this titration 2–3 times to establish absolute statistical accuracy, followed by gentle, controlled evaporation over a steady flame to isolate the crystalline residue.
(P.S. for Miera, I love you <3)
The merchant's eyes darted across the chemical ratios, his professional demeanor melting away into a sharp, knowing look. He looked up from the parchment, his gaze shifting from the highly technical recipe to my shadowed face, zeroing in on the single green eye staring back at him.
"Well now… you aren't just doing basic academic research, are you, lass? You're setting up a precise, multi-stage titration process to isolate precursors. You're making a highly effective, blinding chemical weapon, plain and simple. Don't worry… around these parts of the 6th District, we don't judge a customer by their payload. If you're looking to flush out a den of monsters or brigands, I'll gladly supply the tools."
True to his word and eager to make a massive sale under the 50% clearance banner, the shopkeeper immediately turned on his heel. He began darting between the towering wooden shelves with practiced efficiency, pulling heavy crates and delicate containers down from the rafters.
Within minutes, he had systematically gathered the entire manifest of raw chemicals, storing the caustic NaOH pellets in thick, sealed stoneware jars and pouring the pure acidic bases into heavily insulated glass carboys. Next came the specialized laboratory hardware: a pristine 50mL glass burette, heavy iron stands with adjustable clamps, a selection of resilient Erlenmeyer flasks, and thick, calibrated thermometers capable of enduring immense thermal spikes.
Finally, he reached beneath the main counter and lifted a heavy, beautifully machined piece of brass apparatus, placing it gently alongside the mountains of glassware.
"And instead of a standard, finicky oil burner that might ruin your thermal consistency, I'm throwing in a top-tier, mana-powered Bunsen burner. No traditional fuel lines or flint sparks required. You just feed a microscopic drop of your own ambient mana into the base intake, and it will project a flawless, perfectly constant blue flame that you can adjust down to the exact degree with this dial. It's the cleanest option on the market for delicate crystallization."
I stared down at the massive, high-grade laboratory setup accumulating on the counter. Thanks to the store's massive discount, my five gold pieces were going to secure a flawless chemical manufacturing station. With these tools tucked away in my inventory, I would be fully equipped to brew Maine's tear gas with absolute, flawless precision.
The apothecary merchant tapped his abacus with a series of quick, rhythmic clicks, adding up the total for the massive cache of glassware, the caustic reagents, and the beautiful brass mana-powered Bunsen burner. He looked up, a friendly grin splitting his face.
"Alright, researcher, let's tally it up, normally, a high-grade laboratory set and a premium enchanted burner like this would run you exactly one gold coin. But since you walked in during our grand 50% clearance sale, the final price drops straight down to just 50 silver pieces!"
Remaining perfectly silent, I reached beneath the folds of my heavy canvas cloak with my remaining right hand. I opened my newly acquired bounty pouch, pulled out one of the pristine, heavy gold coins I had just received from Chief Anton for Don Anthony's head, and laid it firmly onto the wooden counter.
The merchant's eyes lit up. He scooped up the gold coin, tossed it into his cash drawer, and promptly counted out 50 bright silver pieces, sliding them back to me as change. I swept the silver back into my purse with a practiced flick of my fingers.
As the merchant began sliding the heavy stoneware jars of NaOH pellets, the fragile glass Erlenmeyer flasks, the burette stand, and the dense brass burner across the counter, he stopped and looked at me with a sudden wave of genuine concern. He glanced down at the left side of my torso, where my traveler's cloak pinned my empty sleeve flat against my side.
"Wait a second, lass… can you actually carry all of this out of here safely? You've only got the one hand to work with, and this glassware is incredibly fragile. Do you need me to call over a local porter with a handcart to help you move it to your lab?" the man said, scratching the back of his neck as he looked at the massive pile of equipment.
Beneath the deep shadow of my hood, a sharp, amused smile tugged at my gruesome Glasgow scars.
Without breaking my silent profile, I stepped forward. I didn't need a porter, and I certainly didn't need a handcart. Utilizing just my single right arm… backed by the immense, supernatural physical strength of my hidden demonic biology… I gathered the heavy crate of alchemical gear, the stoneware jugs, and the dense brass burner all at once. I lifted the entire load into a secure, flawless balance against my torso as if the entire payload weighed absolutely nothing more than a bundle of light feathers.
The apothecary merchant's jaw practically dropped to the floor, his eyes widening in sheer, unadulterated shock as he watched a seemingly frail, one-armed "researcher" casually lift a massive, multi-pound tactical laboratory set with a completely effortless, relaxed posture.
I gave him a subtle, respectful tilt of my hooded head, turned on my heel, and marched out of the shaded apothecary stall, stepping right back into the bustling, sun-drenched thoroughfares of the 6th District. Moving smoothly through the dense crowds of shoppers and mercenaries, the fragile glass didn't even clink against the iron stands. My physical strength made managing the heavy cargo a complete piece of cake.
With my chemical precursors and high-end laboratory gear officially secured, the first major deadline on my market checklist was complete. I adjusted my course, guiding my boots through the maze of commercial brick buildings and colorful canvas awnings, heading straight toward the upscale artisan quarter.
My next destination was Olive's Elite Tailor Shop, where my custom, fire-resistant crimson trench coat was officially waiting for pick-up.