The Netina Alchemical Workshop
The Imperial Capital Dersia was vast, and the commercial district nestled within it was even more expansive. A single zone dedicated solely to merchant guilds and shops rivaled the entire area of Handel in size. It wasn't for nothing that I'd told Beatrice to hold my hand tightly before leaving the train station, lest she get lost. This was a street where vanishing into the crowd after a momentary glance away wouldn't raise any eyebrows.
"You don't look so good. You okay?"
"...Ugh. Y-yeah, I'm fine."
Beatrice hadn't anticipated such a dense throng of people either. As we navigated the path, bumping into folks left and right, her expression soured. There was no chance to savor the dazzling sights of a city whose prosperity was second to none on the continent. Midway through, she gave up scanning the surroundings altogether and just trailed tightly behind me like a lost puppy.
I let a faint, amused smile play on my lips and added a reassuring word.
"Relax your face. We're almost there. Just around that alley, and we'll be at our destination."
"...Dad, didn't you say that like ten minutes ago...?"
"There! We're here."
I breezily ignored Beatrice's skeptical side-eye, delivered with a sour expression, and rounded the alley as promised, finally arriving at our goal. Instead of pressing me further, Beatrice let out a small sigh and looked up at the sign in front.
"Netina... Alchemical Workshop?"
She murmured the shop's name slowly, with a subtle shift in her tone. I just smiled wordlessly and pushed open the door.
Creak!
Right away, a sharp whiff of medicinal herbs hit us, and Beatrice quickly buried her face in my coat. I called out a greeting to the shop owner.
"Hokma? You around? It's me. Here to pick up that item we agreed on."
"...Mr. Kyle?"
The reply came promptly. Passing a corner not visible from the entrance, a young man poked his head out with wide eyes. He was the owner of this alchemical workshop, my acquaintance, and—though not widely known—one of the top alchemists and pharmacists in the capital.
Confirming it was me, Hokma removed the wooden mask he was wearing and stepped forward. I caught a glimpse of the workbench opposite, so he'd probably been in the middle of work.
He showed a faint hint of gladness as he returned my greeting.
"You sent a letter saying you were coming, but with no word for days, I wondered when you'd show. Glad you made it before the tenth day."
"The trip took a while. Even by train, it's over seven hours."
"Ah, right—you moved to a northern city. I heard through the mail this time. If you were leaving the capital, you could've given folks a heads-up."
"No need for that. I'll be back soon enough anyway."
Like right now. I shrugged as I added that mentally, and Hokma responded with a light chuckle.
"Still, for someone who's lived in the capital their whole life to up and move so quickly. Do your other acquaintances know?"
"They wouldn't, right? I left without telling anyone."
"Haha, some things never change."
After exchanging light reunion pleasantries, we got down to business. Hokma smoothly shifted the topic.
"I prepared the item as promised once I got your letter. One year's worth of catalyst—twelve vials total. That'll be five platinum coins."
"...That's steep."
I grimaced and probed just in case.
"No friend discount?"
Half-joking, half-serious, but Hokma's face twisted in earnest.
"As if. Just the production used three mandragora roots, a vial of millennium ice tears, and I dumped in an entire pouch of spirit powder."
"...Ahem. How about points or something?"
"What's that now?"
This world apparently didn't have concepts like 'collect ten stamps and redeem.' What a shame. I clicked my tongue briefly and rummaged in my coat pocket.
"Tch, can't be helped."
I'd anticipated the price range from the start. The Blood Flow Catalyst was a monster of a drug that devoured rare materials. Beyond what Hokma mentioned, it no doubt incorporated all sorts of expensive herbs. I'd just tested the waters for a discount; if not, pay up.
What could I do? I pulled five platinum coins from my wallet and dropped them on the table with a clink. Hokma's hand shot out like lightning, scooping them up neatly.
"Payment confirmed. No backing out now."
"Wouldn't dream of it, sir."
His attitude flipped on a dime. Having savored the gleaming metal coins, Hokma bowed his head politely like a model shopkeeper. Knowing he'd slashed labor costs by nearly ninety percent—minus a modest fee—I didn't press further.
Instead, I extended my hand for the goods, and Hokma promptly crossed to the workbench, retrieving a rectangular case. It was leather-bound and looked pricey, giving off vibes of some shady backroom deal with its peculiar design.
"Hm..."
I glanced around needlessly before clicking open the buckles to inspect the contents. Twelve vials like the wooden box from before, plus matching syringes. The drugs looked fine, and even if there was an issue, a medical illiterate like me wouldn't spot it. All I could do was trust Hokma had handled it cleanly and sensibly.
"Looks good. Thanks, Hokma."
I nodded, securing the case, and Hokma replied with a proud expression.
"Entrust the next batch to me too. No one in this city knows drugs like I do."
"No doubt about your skills."
He was a proven alchemist. That was why I'd handed him the whole Blood Flow Catalyst job.
Anyway, with the goods secured without issue, we were done here. Or so I thought.
"...That must be her. The 'patient who needs the medicine' you mentioned, Mr. Kyle."
Having apparently acclimated to the herbal scent, Beatrice peeked out cautiously from my coat hem, locking eyes with Hokma. She flinched for a split second but glanced at my face, then stepped back politely with a bow.
"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Hokma. Call me Beatrice."
"Oh."
Even after her noble upbringing, her manners were polished. I gave a small nod of approval, and Hokma let out a surprised chuckle. He even knelt to her level for a proper bow, despite her being much younger.
"Yes, Miss Beatrice. Pleased to meet you. Feel free to call me Hokma."
"Ah, y-yes..."
Of course, her shyness won out; she mumbled like an ant crawling into its hole and hid behind me again. Unfazed, Hokma stood and addressed me.
"Eyes so deep red they evoke blood... I can tell at a glance what ails her."
"..."
I didn't reply, and Hokma gave a bittersweet smile tinged with pity.
"...Since you came to me five years ago specifically requesting the Blood Flow Catalyst, you know as well as I do. No need for more words. I'll just promise to give my all in compounding it."
"That's enough."
I nodded curtly, and Hokma added cautiously.
"Mr. Kyle, before you go, could we run a blood test on Miss Beatrice?"
"Blood test? Why?"
I asked dubiously, and after a brief hesitation, he explained.
"The catalyst doesn't cure Blood Death Disease, but... we might ease the heart pains further. Starting with customizing the drug to her blood type, for instance."
"Ah."
It was a blind spot for me. True, the catalyst didn't fully suppress her pains. Over the past month with Beatrice, I'd seen her clutch her chest in agony now and then. If we could mitigate it, any method was worth trying.
"...Beatrice, what do you think? Up for it?"
"Huh?"
It didn't feel right to decide for her. Better to respect her wishes. I asked carefully, and she blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting it. She glanced between Hokma and me, hesitating, but the promise of less pain swayed her.
"I... I'm okay with it. I'll do the blood test."
She mustered her courage, and Hokma nodded approvingly, reassuring her.
"No need to worry. Just a quick prick."
"Not gonna say 'it won't hurt even if you die'?"
"Hahaha..."
Hokma laughed off my jab and turned awkwardly to the workbench. After rummaging in a few drawers—
He returned with a sharp syringe needle.
"...Eep."
"Oh..."
It looked thicker and pointier than the ones for the catalyst injections. Beatrice paled with a flash of regret, but it was too late. Hokma approached slowly with his gentlest smile.
"Now, Miss Beatrice. Have a seat. It'll be over quick."
"...W-wait. Dad. I—"
"Calling Mr. Kyle 'Dad,' huh? You two seem close. I'm jealous. Haha."
No escape now. Beatrice sat with a grimace, like swallowing mustard, and extended her arm. Hokma gripped her wrist.
And—stab!
"...?!"
"Ah, oops."
Unfortunately, the first attempt failed due to Hokma's slip.
...He'd missed the vein.
"Then we'll be off, Hokma."
"Ugh..."
After pressing a cloth to the bruised skin to staunch the bleeding, and once it stopped, applying a square bandage, I patted the sulky Beatrice and shot a glance at Hokma, who was engrossed in something at the workbench.
"..."
"Hokma?"
No response. Puzzled, I tilted my head and approached. That's when—
"...Ah, ah. Leaving already?"
Hokma, face frozen like he'd seen a ghost, noticed me late and forced a smile as he turned.
I narrowed my eyes slightly.
"Yeah... was just about to."
"R-right."
"What'd you see to freeze up like that?"
"Me? Pardon?"
Hokma averted his gaze like he had no idea. His tone had long reverted to normal.
"Ah... Been pulling all-nighters lately; fatigue must've hit. Don't worry."
"...That so?"
"Yes. For Miss Beatrice, we'll factor in the blood test results for the next batch."
"..."
His tone was firm, ending it there. He subtly shifted to block my view of the workbench, closing the conversation.
I stared into Hokma's eyes for a moment, glanced at Beatrice fidgeting by the entrance, then nodded nonchalantly.
"Alright, see you next time. I'll contact when we run low."
"...Yes, until then, Mr. Kyle."
Ding-a-ling!
I took Beatrice's hand and left the workshop. The small bell on the door rang crisply, seeing us off.
"...Hmm."
Sensing outward, even as Beatrice and I exited onto the main street, Hokma hadn't budged from the workbench. Rooted there, staring blankly into nothing.