Hypnosis Nullifier.

To reduce Liana’s depth of hypnosis, brewing this potion was the only way.

But one prerequisite stood between him and success:

crafting a LV.1 Tranquilizing Potion.

Fortunately, Gu Qinghan was already highly proficient.

Two ice mint leaves. Two drops of Dreamlost Beast blood.

He swiftly tossed the ingredients into the beaker. With precise flicks of his index finger, a violent reaction erupted within.

Cold and heat clashed fiercely in the dawn mountain spring water—shattering the beaker at any second.

In mere moments, the mixture would overreact and be ruined.

Yet after thirty-six practice sessions yesterday, Gu Qinghan had mastered the timing.

Hum—!

Magic power surged in at the perfect instant, harmonizing the chaotic temperatures.

Heat spiked, then plummeted. Cold and warmth alternated—but always within safe bounds.

Gu Qinghan’s gaze locked onto the swirling liquid. He held his breath, brow furrowed in concentration.

Within seconds, beads of cold sweat dotted his forehead; his shirt clung damp to his back.

His magic reserves drained rapidly.

By the halfway mark of the third minute, the potion stilled.

Gu Qinghan’s magic was utterly spent.

LV.1 Tranquilizing Potion—successfully brewed.

Staring at the clear, colorless liquid, a heavy weight lifted from his chest. He exhaled shakily.

*Finally over.*

Thirty-seven sets of ingredients. A small fortune wasted.

Yet as relief washed over him, genuine joy bloomed deep inside.

*Worth it.*

For the Hypnosis Nullifier. To shed the Golden-haired Affinity—

he had taken the first crucial step.

Clenching his fists, he wiped his brow, feeling a flicker of redemption.

And beyond that—a vital lifeline:

brewing potions to sell.

No more worrying about affording ingredients.

Gu Qinghan took a slow, steadying breath.

Next: purchase Bewildering Ghost magic cores.

Maintain this rhythm. Keep practicing. Escape Hohenheim’s shadow.

Forge the Hypnosis Nullifier.

*Goodbye, Miss Liana.*

*Goodbye, Golden-haired Affinity.*

*Hello, wondrous fantasy world.*

A quiet smile touched his lips.

...

One hour later.

No. 9, Diet Street. Deep in an unnamed alley, a modest apothecary.

Bustling with customers—all asking the owner to inspect their potions.

“Excellent choice! Top-tier quality!” boomed a bald giant behind the counter, clapping heartily.

His name: Oben Visa. Shop owner.

His herbal expertise far surpassed ordinary merchants—but he never spoke of its origin.

A lonely secret.

*Alchemist.* A path reserved for the extraordinarily gifted.

Oben Visa had once walked it.

Spent fortunes. Wasted a decade. Yielded nothing.

But that wasn’t the deepest wound.

Wendy—his beautiful, young girlfriend—had left him for another alchemist.

Golden-haired, emerald-eyed, brilliant.

While he remained a failure.

Only those who’d walked the path knew talent’s cruel weight.

Lacking it, Oben Visa settled here. Never married.

Yesterday, a youth had entered.

Oben Visa saw the fire in his eyes—and knew his dream.

*“He’ll follow my path too…”*

Lighting a cigar, he sighed with wistful regret.

*“His herbs should be gone by now. Next time, I’ll warn him.”*

Just like his younger self—reckless, hopeful.

*Ding.* The wind chime sang.

“Welcome to our—” Oben Visa froze.

A slender figure stumbled in, breathless.

The youth from yesterday.

“Morning, old man,” he said with a casual smile.

“Good morning,” Oben Visa replied gently.

“All the herbs used up already?”

“Mm.” The youth didn’t turn, still rummaging.

“So fast…” Oben Visa sighed. *Same wasteful passion.*

The youth stayed silent, focused.

*Once you taste alchemy’s thrill… no one escapes it.*

*Who wouldn’t want to defy fate?*

*But if you could… would you still be ordinary?*

Soon, the youth turned, smiling. “Boss, price these herbs.”

He dumped a full crate before Oben Visa.

Oben Visa nodded—no longer shocked by the quantity. *Typical alchemist.*

But when he lifted the lid… he froze.

“What…?”

Bewildering Ghost magic cores.

Packed tight. All second-tier materials.

—Nothing like yesterday’s herbs.

*“Already abandoned that formula?”*

He began counting. “Brewing’s your choice… but this much? Know your limits.”

“I can pay.” The youth tossed a small, worn pouch onto the counter.

“Second-tier cores cost dearly. This won’t cover it,” Oben Visa scoffed, hefting the light bundle.

He opened it—and froze again.

No coins.

Finished potions.

Over a dozen Tranquilizing Potions, neatly wrapped, still warm to the touch.

*Freshly brewed.*

His hand trembled.

“Enough?” Gu Qinghan asked, calm smile unwavering.

Oben Visa’s voice shook. “You… made these *last night*?”

“Yes.”

“How long have you studied alchemy?”

“…Three years?” The youth’s reply was hesitant, hollow.

Oben Visa sucked in a sharp breath.

*Genius.*

*Like that golden-haired rival.*

*Unbearably enviable.*

After a long silence, Oben Visa exhaled deeply, face solemn.

“What drives you? This path… it couldn’t have been easy.”

The youth blinked, eyes clouded with confusion—then resolve hardened his voice.

“Because I refuse my current life.”

A flicker of vulnerability crossed his face as he continued:

“I must escape someone. Break a bond. Defy fate. I have no retreat—so I forged a path.”

The conviction struck Oben Visa like lightning.

*Not a boy’s words. An adventurer’s.*

He gripped Gu Qinghan’s hand tightly.

“These potions cover the cores. Take them.”

“And you, my friend…” He lowered his voice.

“Your future is limitless. You are a true hero.”

The youth stood motionless. Stunned.

Especially at *“friend.”*

It felt less like praise…

and more like bad news.