Stepping into the Alchemists Guild hall, twelve sturdy counters stood in a neat row. Iron bars divided the space into inner and outer sections—just like a bank. At each window stood a young junior employee. I approached the rightmost counter, greeted by a chestnut-haired girl who looked no older than eighteen. Dressed in the guild uniform, she appeared sharp and capable.

"Welcome!" she offered a practiced smile. "Are you here to post a commission or shop?"

"Hello. I’m here to register. May I have the forms?"

She hesitated a second, then handed me three forms. I glanced over them. My doll-like dynamic vision absorbed every detail instantly. Identical to the version from ten years later—so the assessment must be unchanged too.

I filled the forms in under a minute and returned them.

"Already done?" She blinked in surprise. "Let me check… Oh… Your name is Victoria Flamel von Lud?"

"No," I smiled slightly. "That is my master’s name. I am merely her agent."

"Incredible… You didn’t even trigger ‘Flamel’s Curse’… Ahahaha…"

Her laughter carried an unsettling edge.

"Please wait while I process this."

She swiftly crafted a small brass membership card—the official proof of an alchemist’s identity.

"Infuse mana to activate it," she said with a faintly eerie smile. "But… how will you substitute for your master?"

"Like this."

I produced a pre-prepared Arcane Crystal and smoothly channeled my stored mana into the card. The Arcane Formula on the back flickered—a circuit-board-like pattern glowing briefly before vanishing.

"Incredible! Such precise mana control—are you a mage, Miss Maid?"

"No, I am not."

"Hahaha, my apologies. I spoke out of turn." She bowed. "I’m Amity. A pleasure to serve you, miss. How may I address you?"

"I am only a servant. I require no name."

"I see… ahaha…"

*Amity.* I noted the chestnut-haired girl’s name.

This card was my first step beyond the von Lud household—a valid identity across the empire. Advancing ranks required merits earned through commissions.

"Miss Maid," Amity gestured, "the bulletin board lists commissions suited to your master’s abilities."

"Understood."

I bowed slightly and turned away. Whispers followed: *"Why the maid uniform?"* No help for it—I’d only found this outfit in the attic.

The board brimmed with notices, ranked by tier. Low-tier tasks like metal refining held no interest—blacksmiths handled those for little profit. Mid-tier requests, however, called for oddities: arsenic, mercury. I’d prepared both. I selected four arsenic and three mercury commissions and returned to the counter.

"Miss Maid, so fast—wait, these are *mid-tier*?"

Amity’s voice sharpened, drawing nearby glances. Unfazed, I opened my Item Vault and placed exact quantities atop each sheet. Watching the spatial rift from which items emerged, Amity fell silent. I almost heard glass shatter—had something broken?

"Miss Maid… You’re *certain* you’re not a mage?"

"No. Why?"

"To openly wield spatial magic—the ‘Item Vault’—and deny being a mage… Is this a slight against me?"

*Huh? She’s actually upset.*

"My apologies."

"No, *I* should apologize! Ahahaha…"

*Great. Another eccentric joins the Guild.*

Amity turned away, slapped her cheeks twice, then faced me with a polished smile.

"Processing. Please wait."

"Very well."

She verified the items, took my card backstage. I waited calmly, but gazes around me turned wary. My doll-like senses gathered whispers: *maid uniform, Item Vault user, servant to a Flamel-named alchemist…*

*Did I pack too many red flags onto myself?*

"Sorry for the wait!"

She placed 22 silver and 49 copper coins before me—the exact commission total. I stored them in my Item Vault.

"480 points earned. 520 more to next rank. Keep up the good work."

She returned the card.

"Thank you."

I tucked it away. Amity’s face was near collapse.

"Miss Maid… You truly aren’t a mage?"

"No."

She looked away, a dark vein throbbing on her forehead—like she’d swallowed a bitter pill.

"Farewell."

I bowed slightly and left. Before reaching the door, a frustrated shout echoed: *"How can someone this skilled NOT be a mage?!"*

*Sigh.* I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.

Snowflakes dusted the marble steps. I opened my umbrella. In Golden Lion City’s riverside noble district, a maid uniform drew little notice. Yet figures trailed me at a distance. *Tailing?*

I slipped into a quiet alley. They followed. At the corner, I leaped onto the snow-dusted roof. A little girl peered from a window: "Wow, big sister’s so cool!" I smiled, pressed a finger to my lips. She covered her mouth with tiny red hands—adorable.

"Where’d she go?"

"Vanished? Impossible!"

"Dead end—where’d she vanish to?"

"Damn it, Lord Mante will complain again."

*Mante.* Current Guildmaster. Ten years ago, already a key figure. Sending men to "invite" me? Ulterior motives, no doubt.

Not worth my time. Petty people bring trouble.

I dropped to the opposite side. Flight magic flared—luminous wings cushioning my landing. I rounded the corner onto the main street. My pursuers still scrambled in the alley.

*Fools.*

I headed for the Duke’s castle square: mosaic tiles, 120 by 80 meters, vendors bustling. Not here to shop—seeking a real estate agent. *There.*

An agency owner, noticeably younger than his future self, eyes brighter, less weary.

"Looking for a house, miss?"

"My master is."

I held the role: *servant to a mysterious alchemist.* He assessed me silently.

"Budget?"

"Depends on the property."

He straightened, professional smile returning. "Purpose matters." He unrolled parchment. "Prime locations for shops. Secluded homes for quiet living. Some have… *interesting* features. Would your master be interested?"

"A house with an alchemy lab. Discreet."

"Ah—you’re from the Central Region?"

"No. Holgran."

At *Holgran*, his eyes shifted. He reevaluated me, then smiled faintly.

"Follow me. I have just the place."

Thirty minutes later, the carriage halted in the Noble Quarter. Near the wall stood a quiet two-story house, courtyard enclosed, a stone arch bridge crossing a canal to the gate.

"Watch your step." He unlocked the rusted gate. "Belonged to an alchemist who moved to the Central Region. Step inside—you’ll be satisfied."

Snow blanketed the cobblestone yard, clean and serene. He unlocked the main door. Damp air rushed out—musty, familiar. The scent of long silence filled the parlor, the hallways…

*This is the house I’d buy over a decade later. Live in for two years.*

*Until I fled after my falling-out with Freud.*

*Is this… fate?*