As the light from the alchemy platform subsided, a card appeared before Lormue’s eyes.
【Second-Tier Healing · Excellent】
【Excellent Effect: Healing amount increased by 30%】
“This is the last condition.”
Lormue reached out and grasped the card in his hand.
In the current party, there was a mage, two assassins, and a martial artist—anyone looking would have to ask, “Where’s the medic?”
At the same time, this card was also an indispensable “prescription drug” for creating the Sylvia · Valentine Dragonborn Bloodline.
“Making money isn’t shameful.”
Lormue put the card away.
Of course, this wasn’t some knight’s tale of repaying kindness with virtue.
Nor was it to curry favor with that proud Dragonborn young lady.
A villain, he absolutely wouldn’t become.
But anyone who plays at economics is bound to have a dirty heart; there’s nothing to be done about it.
After swinging the stick, you can’t forget to offer the sweet date.
Everyone’s a classmate at the same academy, seeing each other day in and day out—it’s only proper to show some “human sentiment and courtesy.”
Give others a little more emotional value, and only then can you, while making money, forge longer-lasting partnerships with more SSRs.
“I truly am the God of Medicine.”
Lormue was deeply convinced.
Even if it only had a partial comforting effect, given Sylvia’s current mental state, she’d probably accept it gladly.
Selling a placebo for a favor price—could there be anything more “charitable” than this?
“It didn’t explode?”
Sensing the successful magic fluctuation, Ankatt dispelled the automatic golem and cautiously approached Lormue.
“How could it possibly explode, Teacher, look at thi… ow!”
Lormue drew out the card, and a flash of magical light appeared in his hand.
“Wah!”
The one-meter-fifty-tall mentor let out a yelp, jumped back thirty centimeters, and nearly fell to the floor.
“Oh my, so surprised by the quality of my finished card? Teacher, you’re so cu… interesting!”
Lormue toyed with the 【Second-Tier Healing · Excellent】 card, sighing with some emotion:
“If it weren’t for your generous supply of Silver Bell Marrow Solution, I’m afraid I wouldn’t have reached this level!”
“Hmph, at least you’ve got a conscience.”
Seeing that the alchemy card was complete, Ankatt finally dared to approach—but suddenly realized something was wrong:
“Wait, you practiced this out?!”
What sort of practice lets you develop a workflow that violates every safety rule?!
Russell roulette, or is this some alchemical upgrade version?
And this fluctuation… Excellent quality again?!
“Mentor Genova once said, as long as you can achieve results, there’s no need to worry too much about the process.”
“She did… indeed say that, but she’s a Lumen Sage. How long have you been studying alchemy?!”
Facing the founder of modern alchemical fundamentals, Ankatt couldn’t bring herself to scold him much.
Well, with a lineage like that, what could she say?
Besides, Ankatt admitted to herself that when it came to alchemy cards, she herself only understood a little—otherwise, why would she take another path to research automatic golems?
“I think I can do it.”
“…Lormue.”
Ankatt, rare for her, became serious:
“From now on, you’d better use the student workshop’s alchemy platform.”
“Teacher, you really don’t have to worry about my safety.”
“No, you can explode if you want, but my wine cellar is directly underneath this spot. Don’t bring disaster to me.”
“…Oh, that reminds me.”
Well-versed in game settings, Lormue already had a countermeasure in mind:
“I heard there’s a batch of ‘Water of Life’ from the Rovlawsh Distillery about to enter the Principality via some special channels…”
“If I can’t keep using this alchemy platform in the future… I might just forget to bring Teacher a little something as a gift.”
These two sentences, in truth, were entirely unrelated.
“Really?!”
But the little tippler took the bait in a second.
Rovlawsh Distillery…
The purest vodka, the most intense hangover!
How long had it been since she’d tasted the real thing after leaving Russell?!
Ankatt stared at Lormue, trying to read any hint of truth in the words “Rovlawsh” and “Water of Life” from his face.
But all she saw was a mysterious smile.
“You… aren’t lying to me?”
Her voice grew dry, and she even swallowed unconsciously.
“How could I ever lie to Teacher?”
Lormue’s sincere words held just a trace of mystery,
“It’s just that, to get that level of pure goods, the channel is very special. I’ll need some… hmm, ‘operating funds’ to smooth things over.”
Ankatt understood instantly.
She slapped her thigh so boldly it was hard to believe she was only a meter and a half tall.
“Funds, is it? No problem!”
She dashed to the corner of the workshop, rummaged in a dusty cabinet for a while, and then returned carrying a hefty metal box.
With a bang, the box was tossed onto the alchemy platform.
“These are all the leftovers from my early automatic golem research—quality’s still quite good.”
Ankatt opened the box, inside were rows of minerals and crystals glowing in all colors,
“Take them, use them as your operating funds!”
“Teacher, I didn’t mean it like that.”
Lormue demurred politely, but his eyes were already estimating the value inside the box.
Though these were leftovers, they were leftovers from a sixth-tier alchemist!
Generous indeed, but what he needed now was something even more crucial.
“Instead of these, I need Fourth-Tier Phantom Butterfly Scale Powder. It’ll help me refine some things.”
“Fourth-tier materials?”
Lormue’s reckless stunts and the Water of Life weighed on Ankatt’s mind for a moment.
“Alright! Take it!”
Ankatt waved her hand, as if afraid he’d regret it, and called over the automatic golem.
In just a few seconds, the golem produced a packet of fine powder.
“One condition—‘Water of Life,’ as much as you can get, I’ll take it all!”
Fourth-tier materials might be precious to students, but to a mentor?
Just daily consumables.
The Principality even had a special budget to reimburse them.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re satisfied.”
Lormue smoothly swept the powder into his storage space,
“Then about this alchemy platform…”
“Use it! Use it as you wish!”
With a promise of alcohol, the mentor’s dignity vanished in an instant.
“Thank you very much, Teacher.”
Lormue suppressed a laugh and bowed again to the mentor, who was already lost in anticipation of vodka’s taste.
Done.
The final crucial ingredient was in hand.
Sure enough, grasping someone’s weakness worked better than any flowery words.
When Lormue returned to the dormitory area, he was greeted by Ibuki Mio’s face, etched with exhaustion and stress.
On the elegant solid wood floor of the Eastern dormitory, a thick carpet had been laid, but several glaring scratches were still visible.
“Lord Lormue, you’re back.” Ibuki Mio forced herself to be spirited.
“Thank you for your hard work.” Lormue handed her a stamina-recovering potion, “How are things?”
“As you expected.”
Ibuki Mio drank the potion and looked more energized,
“The ‘Talent Training Program’ and ‘Gratitude Blind Box’ are both working even better than anticipated.”
She handed Lormue a neatly organized report.
“The number of loan applicants far exceeded expectations. We’ve selected most of our target candidates from the list and signed contracts.”
“All the blind boxes have also been distributed, and Miss Kaixia’s big win is already the talk of the first-years.”
“And because of the earlier incident, the Valentine family’s reputation has suffered…”
Ibuki Mio paused and added,
“Now, almost no one on the market is interested in the high-priced materials that Senior Sylvia is holding, and even the middlemen are just waiting and watching.”
“Very good.”
Lormue browsed through the report—everything was going according to plan.
Now, most students had low-interest loan credits in hand, or basic materials drawn from blind boxes.
It wasn’t much, but enough to support them through the most panicked period, allowing them to calmly wait for a new round of restocking.
As for Sylvia, she thought that by hoarding materials she could claim victory by default, forgetting that this was a zero-liquidity trap.
Sell?
Who would buy?
The moment the Academy’s next exam was announced, it meant the first-year alchemical materials’ liquidity was finished for good.
The middlemen wouldn’t act, and neither would Sylvia.
Everyone was waiting for a breakthrough.
But if she didn’t sell?
Cash flow at zero, all credits locked up, unable to invest in anything else or upgrade.
Plus, with her own high rank, she had no need for low-tier materials.
It was like being tied to a stake over a fire, caught between a rock and a hard place.
“You’ve done very well, Ibuki Mio. As expected of a businesswoman—so reliable.”
Lormue closed the report,
“Next, it’s time to take our ‘charity’ one step further.”
“You mean…?”
“Spread the word: the Chief Squad will, tomorrow at noon, sell a limited batch of alchemical materials in the market district.”
“As for the price… set it at ten percent below Sylvia’s current asking price.”
“And only squads participating in the training program are eligible to buy.”
“For the bystanders, hand out another round of blind boxes.”
“A price drop… I understand!”
Ibuki Mio’s eyes lit up instantly:
“You mean, with minimal effort, we do the greatest deed!”
Lormue corrected her with a shake of his head: “Eh, it’s not a deed, it’s called… a pang of conscience.”
Ten percent lower, yet still more than three times the original price—profit margins sky-high.
But for those who couldn’t wait and failed to get loans, it was nothing short of a lifeline.
More importantly, this move would utterly shatter Sylvia’s psychological defense.
Once the Chief Squad started selling, it would send a clear message to the market:
We have goods, and they’re cheaper than yours.
Some middlemen would definitely be unable to resist.
And those students hoarding for pocket money would start offloading their own supplies, trying to seize the first wave of opportunity.
It might not be a total landslide, but it would certainly dampen Sylvia’s momentum.
And… she still didn’t know that the batch of Silver Bell Marrow Solution from Ankatt was also in the squad’s hands!
Who said a price war was just a one-time thing?
It’s got to be two rounds, three rounds—until all market confidence was restored!
“I understand.”
Ibuki Mio nodded and left to arrange things at once.
Watching her departing figure, Lormue took out the 【Second-Tier Healing · Excellent】 card.
Everything was ready.
Now, all that was left was to deliver the final “consolation” to that proud Dragonborn young lady.
Oh, wait.
First, he had to check in with Kafnir and arrange some Water of Life.
After all, as a prince, how could he not have connections!