The Ice Flame Poison Recipe

The memory of that blazing meteor shower remained vivid in my mind. Even after stepping through the door of my cramped workshop-slash-residence, the pounding adrenaline in my chest refused to settle.

"Whew… calm down, Shin Dohyeon. Get a grip, damn it…"

How was I even supposed to calm down after something like that? Should I log on and ask the regulars on the Poison Gallery? I checked the time; it was the dead of night, slipping into the ungodly hours when exhausted office workers were barely beginning to stir for their morning commutes. They're probably all fast asleep, aren't they?

With nowhere else to direct the electric restlessness humming under my skin, I muttered the word that had changed my life.

"Status window."

My fingers trembled. When the translucent pane had first materialized before my eyes on Mapo Bridge, it had felt like nothing ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠more than a fleeting hallucination born of sheer despair.

My core skills had undergone an absurd metamorphosis, yet the interface offered no immediate manual explaining their full range of effects. Still, Lethal Poison Brewing and Myriad Poison Immunity were relatively self-explanatory given their names and origins.

"What on earth is Poison Eye, though?"

It clearly signified some ocular enhancement, but without a detailed tooltip, guessing was all I had.

"I'll figure that out later. The mana rank, on the other hand…"

An A-rank mana capacity. In human society, that single stat placed an awakener among ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the upper echelons of hunter rankings. Even now, the world felt fundamentally different; the background hum of ambient energy and my expanded spatial awareness proved that my mana reserves had skyrocketed beyond recognition.

"Then again, raw mana capacity alone doesn't make you invincible."

When it came to tackling the Black Tower, mana rank was merely the seasoning of a dish. The true ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠essence of any culinary masterpiece lay in the core ingredients—and in an awakener's case, those ingredients were their innate traits. Only those blessed with exceptional traits climbed into the ranks of high rankers.

"Does this mean… I can finally climb the Tower myself?"

For the first time since my disastrous awakening, an unfamiliar surge of confidence warmed my chest. Seeking practical guidance, I pulled out my phone and navigated to the main hunter forum.

"Right… you only live once anyway. To hell with playing it safe."

If I couldn't repay the debt Minseok had saddled me with, the bank would foreclose on the Poison Laboratory. The fragile sanctuary I had poured everything into would be stripped away, leaving me back on the streets. Since the heavens had handed me this miracle, I had no choice but to carve out a new path.

First things first: what did I need right now? Toxins, obviously.

My gaze drifted across the cluttered workbench toward a rack of beakers holding the signature product of my modest workshop: Homemade Paralysis Poison. It was a budget staple favored by broke novice hunters venturing into minor dungeons. The concoction required nothing more than a quick toss, and its results were surprisingly reliable.

"Five seconds of complete immobility is more than enough to turn the tide of a fight."

I reached out and picked up a glass beaker. The moment my fingers brushed the cool glass, strange golden text manifested directly in my field of vision.

"What the hell…?"

Data I had never been able to perceive was laid out before me in meticulous detail. Mana conductivity: one percent. Duration: ten seconds. My regular customers had always reported that the paralysis wore off after roughly five seconds against dungeon beasts.

Why does the readout claim ten seconds?

The explanation was right there in the notes. The low mana conductivity meant the poison lost half its potency the second it encountered an opponent shielded by active mana. And the sudden appearance of these analytical metrics could only stem from one source: Poison Eye.

"It really was an appraisal skill."

Curious, I set the beaker down and turned my eyes toward an adjacent flask filled with a faint, iridescent powder.

"Are you kidding me?!"

No wonder nobody fell asleep when using it in the field. I had proudly labeled it as a proprietary handcrafted sedative and put it up for sale, only to be flooded with furious refund demands from enraged hunters. Zero percent mana conductivity meant it had as much impact on an awakened monster as powdered sugar. If I wanted to craft poisons that actually worked against hunters and monsters, raising mana conductivity was paramount.

"Which means I need higher quality ingredients…"

I checked my banking app. My balance sat at a pathetic 200,000 won. That barely covered a handful of bottom-tier scrap ingredients. As desperation clawed at my gut, my fingers moved before my conscious mind could stop them, pulling up a specific contact.

"Just close your eyes and swallow your pride… only this once."

It was far too late to launch into a long, pitiful sob story. Not even thirty seconds after sending the text, my phone gave a sharp buzz.

"Bullshit… I'll handle my own dating life, you bastard."

And with that brief exchange, the conversation ended. My brain, thoroughly saturated with dopamine, utterly refused sleep. I threw on a jacket and stepped out into the pre-dawn mist to restock on raw materials at the Hunter Association exchange.

Morning arrived, bringing waves of Association civil servants reporting for their shifts as I entered the specialized trading counter.

"Dohyeon-ssi? It's been a while, hasn't it?"

The woman greeting me with a professional smile was Kim Yuna, an Association staff member assigned to the raw materials division.

"Good morning, Yuna-ssi. It has been a bit."

"How are things going at the laboratory lately?"

"Oh, you know… just getting by, haha."

Unwilling to burden an acquaintance with my mounting debts, I offered a polite, noncommittal chuckle and prepared to browse the shelves. Before I could turn away, she gestured toward a back partition.

"A fresh shipment arrived earlier this morning. Would you like to take a look?"

Following her lead, I walked into the secured storage zone dedicated to elemental harvest goods.

"These are the latest batches brought in from the intermediate dungeons. The freshness is remarkably high. Browse at your leisure, and let me know if anything catches your eye."

"Will do. Thank you, Yuna-ssi."

Leaving me to inspect the stock, she returned to her desk. I scanned the tiered metallic shelves loaded with preserved organs, venom sacs, and flora. Standard monster byproducts as usual, but what about the Tower-specific flora…?

Then I saw it: Freezing Herb.

It was a familiar ingredient to any poisoner. Native to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the blue-themed floors of the Black Tower, the frost-tinted plant was notorious for inflicting severe frostbite. The specimen before me was in pristine condition, its serrated leaves glowing with a deep, vibrant cerulean hue.

Ding!

A crisp, ethereal chime resonated in my ears as two floating panes snapped into existence before my vision.

Through the power of Poison Eye, the basic analysis materialized, followed immediately by another glowing interface hovering beneath it.

Ice Flame Poison…?

I blinked. In all my years studying alchemical texts and monster toxicology, I had never once encountered such an item. Inducing hypothermia and frostbite was the standard profile of basic freezing toxins, but the secondary property made my heart leap: Fire resistance?

A poison that boosted fire resistance? If this concoction actually worked, it was the definitive silver bullet for conquering the 1st floor's brutal Fire trial. Needing confirmation, I pulled up the hunter community boards to consult the collective wisdom of the internet. A quick search for "Ice Flame Poison" returned zero relevant results across every database.

"It really doesn't exist out there, does it?"

If anyone had ever heard of it, it would be the eccentrics lingering on the Poison Minor Gallery.

The community was tiny, but its members were seasoned veterans who had dedicated their awakenings to the underappreciated art of poison. If the knowledge existed, someone would chime in.

That settled it. Even the resident experts had never heard the name before. Turning back to the shelves, I located the second ingredient listed on the recipe, resting quietly in an insulated glass display case.

"Damn, that's steep."

Three hundred thousand won was nearly half of all the funds I had left in the world. But looking at the stats floating in my vision, the gamble was undeniable. Taking a deep breath, I grabbed the gallbladder alongside the bundle of Freezing Herb and walked to the checkout register.

"That will be 400,000 won in total, Dohyeon-ssi."

"Here you go."

"I'll be sure to set aside any rare materials next time they arrive."

"…Thank you, Yuna-ssi. I appreciate it."

Physical exhaustion weighed heavily on my shoulders, and my bank balance was practically back to zero. Yet as I carried the boxed reagents back through the city streets toward the laboratory, my steps felt lighter than they had in months.

The moment the tension bled out of my muscles, sheer exhaustion pulled me under. I crashed hard onto my cot and didn't open my eyes until the evening shadows stretched across the room.

"That was a solid nap. Time to get to work."

I rolled up my sleeves and unrolled the schematic hovering in my mind.

I arranged the raw components on the stainless-steel workstation and flicked the switch on the ventilation unit. With a mechanical click, the exhaust hood whirred to life, filling the cramped workshop with a steady, low drone.

"Setup complete."

Carefully, I transferred the Freezing Herb and Fire Bear Gallbladder onto a high-precision digital scale to calibrate the weights. In toxicology, measurement ratios were absolute law. Even the slightest deviation in mass could ruin the brew, destroying the active properties or turning an elixir into useless sludge—a lesson drilled into me through dozens of agonizing failures.

"Gloves secure, forceps ready… thermometer calibrated."

The preparatory phase was finished. As expected of an organ harvested from a flame-attribute beast, the Fire Bear's Gallbladder radiated a faint, persistent warmth. Wearing heat-resistant handling gloves, I lifted the specimen from its vacuum-sealed packaging and placed it inside a sterilized glass beaker.

I glanced at the heavy-duty industrial respirator hanging on the wall rack. For a fleeting second, I considered leaving it off. Part of me wants to test if Myriad Poison Immunity really works…

I immediately shook my head. Recklessness was the fastest way for an alchemist to end up in a morgue. In poison brewing, safety protocols came before curiosity. I strapped the respirator snugly over my face, the rubber seal tightening against my skin.

"Let's see what you can do."

Four hundred thousand won—practically my entire net worth—hung on this single batch. Just as I raised the pipettes to begin the extraction, my phone pinged with a social media notification.

"You arrogant bastard… keep laughing while you can."

Staring at Minseok's punchable, self-satisfied grin on the screen, a cold, venomous fury ignited within my chest. I set the phone face down, gripped the stirring rod, and focused every ounce of my will on the bubbling chemicals. I'm going to make this work. I have to.