What Witch? This Alchemist is Breaking Bad!

That night, Leon once again appeared in front of the Old Junk Shop in Snake Mouth Alley.

After making sure he was not being followed, he pushed open the shop door, which was still lit inside.

Prompted by the ringing bell, the shop owner looked up at him, a hint of surprise crossing his face.

“You came earlier than expected. Are you in that much of a hurry to use the item?”

The owner got up and went to the door, checked the small window, locked it, then turned back behind the counter.

“But fortunately, what you wanted arrived quite early.”

As he spoke, he took out a quartz test tube filled with a purple liquid and placed it on the balance scale.

On the other side of the scale, he put an empty test tube of the same specifications, then began adding weights to measure it.

“A bit over seven grams. Let’s count it as thirty-five thousand.”

The owner looked at Leon.

“Oh right, do you want to take a bit first to verify the goods? But I should remind you—this thing was extracted and stored for a long time. Its toxicity isn’t that strong anymore. You’ll need to activate it with a little Mana for it to become a potent poison.”

“I’ll just take it back and check it myself.”

Leon took the reagent, carefully examined the seal, and only then put it away with caution.

He then counted out the money and handed it to the owner.

“Thank you for your patronage!” The owner smiled as he put the money away, then noticed that Leon was still standing there and hadn’t left.

He asked, “Is there something else?”

“Actually, I didn’t come this time just to pick up the goods. There’s something I need to tell you.” Leon looked the owner straight in the eyes.

“The Inquisition has already started investigating our supply source…”

He briefly explained to the old shop owner the situation he had learned about from the Inquisition.

“So fast?”

The old shop owner’s brows furrowed tightly before Leon had even finished listening, his reaction much the same as Leon’s had been when he first heard it.

“Caron—or rather, the entire South Harbor County Inquisition—has bitten down hard on the idea that this isn’t the Earl’s goods. They don’t have even the slightest doubt and have directly concluded that the source came from this side.

“How much do you know about the Earl’s side? Do they really have that much power, enough to put pressure on the entire South Harbor County Inquisition?” Leon asked the old shop owner.

He hadn’t come just to issue a warning—he also wanted to exchange information.

As far as underworld news went, the other party was definitely better informed than he was.

“I don’t know that much about the Earl either. There are rumors that he’s actually a titled lord from the eastern regions. There are also rumors that he runs a multinational merchant consortium, and some even say he once held a position in the Church. If even one of those rumors is true, then he should be able to pull that off,” the old shop owner said, folding his arms.

“Sounds like you don’t have much chance on your side,” Leon said.

“What, young man, are you thinking of defecting to the Earl?” the old shop owner teased.

“If there’s a chance.” Leon shrugged.

“From the sound of it, supplying him means you don’t have to worry about getting caught by the Church at all. Supplying you, on the other hand—only ten days have passed and the Church has already sniffed us out.”

“Heh, don’t even think about it. My superiors wouldn’t rashly trust a stranger, and the Earl’s side would be even more cautious when seeking partners. Not to mention that their operations are already complete, and they can continuously produce goods with purity even higher than yours. They don’t need an extra supplier like you at all.

“My guess is they’re already looking for you, the local source. Exposing yourself proactively would be no different from suicide. Besides, in our line of work, being a fence-sitter is a big taboo. Rats who sell out others usually die the ugliest deaths,” the old shop owner said earnestly.

“I’m just saying it out loud. Things are already this bad—can’t I complain a little?” Leon shrugged.

“Anyway, the Inquisition has already started investigating in Hamel Town. Do you have any countermeasures?”

“Do we really need any countermeasures? The dealings here are just between you and me. Caron needs me to launder the goods, and you yourself are an Inquisitor. Just like you said before, young man—you mind your mouth, I mind mine, and we’ll both be safe.”

The shop owner spoke indifferently, then added, “Oh right, if you’ve got other people under you, remember to keep your people in line too.”

“You’d better keep your people—and your mouth—in line as well,” Leon replied, staring at him.

“But judging by this trend, it’s probably only a matter of time before South Harbor County falls under the Earl’s control.”

The old shop owner spoke meaningfully.

“Young man, if you want to make money, you have to do it early. While goods can still be moved out from here, we’d best sell as much as we can!”

He tried to persuade Leon to supply faster and in larger quantities, so he himself could make as much money as possible.

“Are my goods selling well?” Leon asked.

“Extremely well. Products made from that batch of Mana you provided have left customers more satisfied than ever before. My upstream contact is already impatiently waiting for the next batch of Fenrir’s goods. You should get as much as you can. Soon enough, you’ll make a name for yourself in this line of work.” The shop owner grinned broadly.

“I will—but I don’t want to make any kind of name for myself,” Leon replied.

“Oh right, if you need anything or run into any trouble… I mean the kind that doesn’t directly involve the Church—you can come to me anytime. I have a bit of a network in the local underworld,” the shop owner said.

“Then I’ll thank you in advance.”

With that, Leon left the shop carrying the goods.

The situation could hardly be called optimistic now.

The Inquisition was investigating the source of their batch of goods, and the Earl’s forces were ready at any time to replace the local powers.

Only after entering this line of work did Leon realize just how intricate and tangled the internal forces were.

As an Inquisitor, he was completely unable to grasp the full picture, and the risks of throwing himself into it were far greater than he had imagined.

But the money he had earned so far was still far from enough.

The business couldn’t stop.

On the contrary, just as the shop owner had said, while the local forces hadn’t yet collapsed, they should make as much money as possible.

Otherwise, once the Earl’s forces took control of South Harbor County, Leon would lose his channel for moving goods.

Thinking about all this, he returned to Melissa’s home.

He quietly unlocked the door with his key, careful not to wake Sally and Melissa in the attic.

However, as soon as he opened the door, he saw a faint candlelight glowing from the room at the very back of the house.

That room had originally been a small living room, and in the past it had been Melissa’s bedroom.

Now the bed had been moved up to the attic, and a spinning wheel had been placed inside.

Whenever she had free time at home, Melissa would sit there spinning yarn.

It didn’t earn much, but it at least helped cover household expenses.

Leon sighed and walked over, intending to remind Melissa to rest earlier.

Spinning so late for the little money it brought in wouldn’t even necessarily cover the cost of the lamp oil.

It would not only damage her eyes, but she could also end up pricked by the spindle.

However, when he stepped into the small candlelit room, what he saw was Sally asleep, slumped over a small table used for tools.

After months of persisting with her medication, Sally could now barely walk.

Though her legs were still not very nimble, she could manage quite a bit of housework and no longer needed to stay bedridden with Melissa constantly caring for her.

“Mrs. Hesh.” Leon tried to wake her.

He couldn’t let her sleep here all night.

“Ah!”

Sally startled awake at the sound.

When she lifted her face and saw the still-lit lamp, she let out a frustrated sigh—she had actually fallen asleep with the oil lamp still burning.

Not only had she failed to work properly, she had wasted lamp oil for the household.

“I really… how did I fall asleep?” Sally covered her face and sighed deeply, but still turned to thank Leon.

“Thank you for waking me, Mr. Leon.”

“You worked all night?” Leon looked at the thread and yarn wound around the spinning wheel.

“Your body is still weak. You really shouldn’t overexert yourself… Strange, where’s Melissa?”

If Melissa had been home, she definitely wouldn’t have let Sally work in this room so late, let alone let her fall asleep like this.

“Melissa…”

Sally blinked, her still-drowsy mind snapping awake.

“Melissa! Mr. Leon, what time is it now?”

Leon recalled when the bell had rung.

“It’s been past nine for a while.”

“After nine? Melissa still isn’t back?”

Unease immediately appeared on Sally’s face.

She braced herself on the table and struggled to stand, calling into the house, “Melissa? Melissa!”

There was no response from anywhere in the house.

Leon’s brow furrowed as well.

“Melissa hasn’t come back?”

He realized that Sally falling asleep here wasn’t just from working—she had been waiting for Melissa to return and had waited so long that she accidentally fell asleep.

After Sally became able to take care of herself, Melissa hadn’t allowed herself to rest.

She had increased the amount of work she did outside.

Leon knew that in the evenings she now worked as a tavern waitress two streets away, but she would always be back by eight and wouldn’t make her mother worry.

Not being back by this time was a bit abnormal.

“I’ll go look for her…” Sally said, staggering toward the door.

Leon grabbed her at once.

“With your condition, how can you go out? Mrs. Hesh, you stay at home and wait. I’ll go check the tavern!”

“Mr. Leon…”

Sally turned back to look at him, her eyes trembling.

“Please.”

“Wait at home with peace of mind. Melissa might come back at any moment, and someone needs to be here waiting for her. Promise me—don’t go out on your own no matter what!” Leon urged.

Seeing Sally nod and sit back down, Leon finally left the room.

He first checked the hall and the attic to confirm that Melissa wasn’t at home, then quickly left the house and headed straight for the tavern.

Sally sat inside the room, worry written all over her face.

The faint flame of the oil lamp flickered unsteadily.

This room had once been Melissa’s bedroom.

It had once held her bed and wardrobe, as well as a small shelf for books and the cloth dolls she liked—now, anything that could be sold had been sold, and nothing remained.

In a daze, Sally seemed to see the past.

Young Melissa sat on the bed, while Sally herself held a book and sat at the bedside.

Every single day, before sleep, there would always be a story.

Every story had a happy ending, like “The prince defeated the evil witch, rescued the princess from the high tower, and from then on they lived happily ever after.”

Yet outside of fairy tales, happiness vanished in an instant—so fleeting it couldn’t even be grasped—while suffering seemed endless.

“Melissa, please come back soon…”

Sally pressed her still somewhat bony hands together on the table and clasped them tightly, praying with all her strength.