Chapter 476: The Mad Alchemist (Happy New Year!)

The Queen Ant left, instantly drawing all attention to the other side.

The portly mixologist, who had been focused on mixing drinks, looked up at Fu Liye. "Do I really have to leave this place?"

"Reluctant to abandon your experiments?"

The chubby man shrugged. "It's rare to gather so many test subjects in one place. The people here are used to me—no one ever pays me any attention."

As he spoke, his expression suddenly darkened. He glanced sideways at the Queen Ant, who was flirting with the officers. "But after today, things will be different. You shouldn’t have brought her here."

"That was the boss’s arrangement."

At the mention of the word "boss," the chubby man unconsciously straightened his posture, his face filled with near-religious reverence.

Fu Liye chuckled and pushed a backpack toward him. "Returning this to you. Old Tong asked me to pass along that he’s still just a little short of enhancing his ghost-level spirit."

The chubby man took the backpack and opened it, revealing a charred, discarded conversion furnace. His face twisted in pain, his chubby cheeks trembling. "Damn it, how is it still just a little short?!"

Fu Liye grinned. "Alright, enough. By the way, got anything new lately? Last time, you mentioned finding inspiration from the new Highland Mad Warrior brew of the orcs for that lineage elixir. How’s it going? Need me to test it for you?"

The chubby man’s frown deepened, his face full of wariness. "What? It’s not ready yet."

"That look on your face says otherwise. Got a sample? Don’t be stingy—hand it over and I’ll test it for you again. What’s with that look? Where else are you gonna find someone as skilled as me to test your potions?" Fu Liye kept egging him on. Every little thing from this guy was absolutely top-notch—it was just too hard to wrench anything from his grip. This guy pursued perfection in everything. By the time he said something was "good"... *Wait, had he ever actually said "good"?* Fu Liye couldn’t recall. Other than the boss, everyone had to wrench things from him.

"I do have a prototype, but... there are still some things I might not have figured out yet..."

"Let me test it, and you’ll figure it out."

"Alchemical concoctions aren’t as simple as you think..."

"Don’t be stingy."

Fu Liye pestered him until the chubby man’s head spun. Finally, after a long pause, the man pulled out a small box from behind the counter, took out a silver tube, and gently unscrewed it, pouring its contents into a cocktail.

Instantly, the drink transformed into a kaleidoscopic swirl—different hues swirling together yet refusing to blend.

Fu Liye licked his lips as he stared at the eye-searingly vibrant drink. "Hey, Yi Dian Dian, couldn’t you make this thing look a bit more appealing? Something that actually looks delicious at first glance?"

"Then maybe next time..."

"Come on! No time like the present." Fu Liye snatched the glass, watching the rainbow-colored liquid swirl. Excited, he asked, "What do you think—higher chance of me getting a stomachache or breaking through to Dragon-Level?"

"Then maybe next time..."

Fu Liye tilted his head back and downed the prismatic brew in one go. The moment it touched his tongue, it felt like a fiery blade exploded in his mouth. As he swallowed, the burning heat surged toward his heart before spreading through his limbs. Faintly, his soul pulsed with a volcanic surge. Truth be told, Fu Liye trusted Yi Dian Dian’s skills—his potions had saved him from near-death wounds more than once. But joking about reaching Dragon-Level was one thing... this sensation, though, felt uncannily tangible.

The chubby man watched the subtle metamorphosis flickering across Fu Liye’s body, his eyes gradually burning with excitement. These were signs of success! Was he finally about to succeed?

Just as Fu Liye was feeling thrilled, his body suddenly reacted violently—the energy rapidly dissipated.

Splat!

A flash of purple flickered at Fu Liye’s fingertips, and a scarlet bead fell onto the bar counter. It looked like blood, but the droplet writhed with alien motion.

The excited chubby man froze at the sight of the scarlet bead. Slowly, he raised his hands and grabbed his temples.

"Wasn’t it about to succeed?" Fu Liye stared at the strange liquid. Channeling Soulforce into his vision, he realized it wasn’t blood—it was a swarm of "bugs." Not living creatures, but alchemical homunculi, each smaller than the finest mosquito leg, like motes of dust in the air. Normally invisible to the naked eye, even with Soulforce enhancement, they required considerable effort to discern.

"Holy hell, Yi Dian Dian, this is next-level insane. For a second there, I really thought I was about to hit breakthrough." Fu Liye savored the lingering sensation. Though it had failed, he had still tapped into something. Yi Dian Dian’s creations were always just a little short, but they were truly legit game-changing!

But the fat man suddenly erupted in rage, his voice turned hoarse as he shouted: "I told you not to try it, but you wouldn’t listen! Again, just a tiny bit off! Always just a tiny bit! I said don’t try it, but you had to! A little bit, a little bit—it’s always a little bit!"

"Uh, this is just testing, not the final product. It’s part of the development process, not official use, so it doesn’t count... Think about it, doesn’t that make sense?" Fu Liye was well-prepared. Soothing minor frustrations was something he’d done many times before. The anger on the fat man’s face was gradually subsiding...

But at that moment, several nobles burning with jealousy suddenly exploded. Watching the stunning beauty flirt so openly with the naval officers had filled them with pent-up frustration. Yet, they lacked the courage to confront the navy directly—so the fat man’s outburst hit their last nerve.

"Damn fatty, what the hell are you yelling about?"

"If you want to lose your mind, get the hell out first before you do!"

Jealousy scorched away their manners, leaving only bitter venom to soothe their bloated egos.

In their eyes, the fat man was nothing but a fool—a convenient punching bag. To them, putting trash to use was nothing short of recycling. It was his privilege!

Even the bar owner felt a twisted satisfaction. Somehow, he convinced himself that he should have been the one flirting with the beauty. "Fatty! You damn bastard, what’s wrong with you?! Get out here now and kneel! Apologize to the guests!"

The anger that had just begun to fade from the fat man’s face flared up again. Fu Liye watched as the fat man’s eyes grew redder, a faint smile playing on his lips. He never stopped those who were determined to dig their own graves.

The fat man suddenly turned his head and glared at the bar owner. The ferocity in his eyes, however, didn’t register as a threat—instead, it only provoked the owner to scream louder: "Worthless fatty! Do you even know what you are? If it weren’t for me taking you in, you’d have died in a gutter, rat food—not even fit for a mass grave! Get out here and kneel—"

*Crack! Crack-crack-crack...*

The owner’s curses abruptly cut off. The sickening crunch of bones dislocating echoed from his neck.

The fat man straightened his back. Two crimson veins erupted across his eyes. The fat on his body melted away like snow under flame, his bloated frame first becoming lean, then skeletal...

He tugged at his now-loose clothing, exposing his chest—where a massive scar stretched across his skin. Around it, bulging veins pulsed in a riot of colors, as if dipped in rainbow dye.

And in the center of the scar—a beating heart, fully exposed! Countless alchemical insects of grotesque shapes crawled over it, a sight of pure horror.

*Splat!*

The bar owner’s neck violently burst apart. His head shot upward in an exaggerated arc, smashing into the ceiling with a sickening *thud*, leaving a wet slap of gore stuck to the wood.

A waitress had just opened her mouth to scream—but no sound came out. Her lungs locked in terror as she stared at the now-skeletal figure of the fat man.

The jeering voices choked off instantly. The sudden brutality shattered their bravado. Their guts turned to ice. Some vomited uncontrollably; others bolted for the door—only to find it slammed shut. No matter how hard they pulled or slammed against it, the seemingly flimsy door stood immovable.

The naval officers watched the carnage in horror.

The Queen Ant let out a soft laugh. "What a pity. I was just starting to find this interesting."

"What?" The officer who had invited her turned, reaching out—but she had already drifted away like smoke.

The fat man raised his hand and clenched his fist in the air toward the waitress.

*Pop!* She exploded even more grotesquely than the bar owner. Her flesh and bone peeled apart below the neck—yet, horrifyingly, she was still alive. And conscious. Suddenly, she remembered: once, when she had bullied the fat man and knocked his bowl to the ground, he had muttered, *You’ll be torn apart, bone from flesh...* Now, he was making good on his curse.

The naval officers finally lost control, retching violently. The sheer brutality assaulted their souls. This was beyond anything they could handle. They wanted to flee—but the entrance was already jammed with desperate, screaming patrons. The bar was a cacophony of panic and vomit. They prayed for someone outside to save them.

But all sound was muffled by an unseen force.

The officers rushed to the windows—only to find the transparent glass mocking their desperation. Chairs thrown at it left nothing but scratches.

Soul force. A powerful soul force encased the entire bar like a suffocating dome.

By now, the fat man’s eyes were completely red. Threads of bloody tears seeped from the corners. Yet, his rage had vanished—replaced by a chilling, calculated cruelty.

He pointed casually at one man. "Kao. Crime: murdering his lover Mia and their unborn child by poison. Sentence: death..."

Bang!

A sickening crack of bone rang out as the man named Kao exploded, his flesh and blood splattering everywhere. Bystanders screamed and scrambled away, as if avoiding the splatter would ensure their survival.

The fat man pointed again, "Tiedi, crime: selling his wife into slavery, kidnapping children for pirates. Sentence: death."

Bang!

Amidst the screams and wails, the naval officers might as well have been ants.

"To hell with this - let's take him down!"

Yet, as a few officers charged forward, the fat man snapped his fingers—

The officers instantly froze mid-step, then floated in the air like puppets on strings.

"You, crimes: raiding merchant ships, leaving no survivors. Lingchi execution!"

A gruesome spectacle unfolded. Unlike the previous victims, these officers did not die quickly. They wailed inhumanly as they watched their own flesh being sliced off piece by piece!

Some fell to their knees begging for mercy, others collapsed to the ground, and a few cried out that they were innocent.

But the fat man recited their crimes without emotion, sentencing each to death one by one.

Only five remained.

Yet, the fat man's outstretched hand froze. His cold, blood-red eyes fixed on the five, and suddenly, his voice became halting. "You... crimes... wrong place at the wrong time... memory wipe..."

With that, he flicked his finger toward the five, and the terrified men collapsed to the ground, falling into a deep sleep. In an instant, dozens of homunculi flew out from their bodies.

Fu Liye watched as the homunculi returned to the fat man and couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. "Yīdiǎn, just how many people have you planted homunculi in?"

The fat man turned his head. His emaciated body slowly swelled, quickly returning to his original plump form. He squinted his eyes. "Not many..."

"Just... the entire dock, and some sailors who've passed through. As long as I don't activate them, the homunculi are harmless... Alright, alright, I'll retrieve them all."

Under Fu Liye's gaze, the fat man made his promise.

The Ant Queen emerged from the corner, licking her lips as she looked at the five unconscious men. "Yīdiǎn, are you sure you don't want to clean up thoroughly?"

"Enough. With Yīdiǎn's skills, unless that powerful one comes to investigate personally, no one will notice anything," Fu Liye chuckled. "Hurry and clean up. Old rules—leave no traces that could lead back to us."

"Just a little more, and even if that powerful one came, I could make sure he finds nothing," the fat man muttered resentfully. Then he pointed, and all the corpses and blood on the ground—except for the five sleeping men—began to writhe. One after another, ghouls took form, their shapes resembling dogs, their fur mostly made of human hair, hanging long and clinging to their pale skin.

As the most fanatical alchemist, he would never waste any materials!

By evening, a strange drizzle fell over the entire dock. After the rain, everyone living there suddenly felt an unsettling emptiness. No one noticed the sudden closure of the Limah Bar, nor the tiny creatures washed into the sewers by the rain, flowing into the sea.

The Dark Hall's New World Nine - the Alchemist, Yīdiǎn.

......

"Honored Master Fantasi, I am Li Chunyang from Fengyu Harbor of the Blue Moon Duchy. You are my greatest idol! It is an honor to meet you. Please allow me to offer the highest respect from a rogue Soul Cultivator!"

At the Ghost Level Class registration site, amidst the endless line of applicants, a small figure dressed in a fish-stained rain cloak nervously practiced under his breath. He occasionally peeked ahead, where at a long table, Fantasi—wearing Black Rose regalia—sat with several similarly dressed companions, registering applicants.

Seeing his idol, Li Chunyang's heart raced. This was a true idol! Coming from a similar background and around the same age, Fantasi had already become a ghost level expert. It was beyond inspiring!

Li Chunyang was born in a small fishing harbor in the Blue Moon Duchy. His family had been fishermen for generations, owning two fishing boats—a relatively comfortable life among local fishermen. By family tradition, he should have become a sturdy fisherman, married a homely wife, and lived a comfortably ordinary life. But that future held no appeal.

(Happy New Year! Wishing everyone a bullish Year of the Ox, with all your wishes fulfilled, good health, and boundless joy!)

Growing up by the sea, listening to the tales of heroic navy officers who fought against the likes of Pirate Kings and other sea rogues, Li Chunyang had nurtured a hero's dream since childhood. Deeply fascinated by Soul Cultivators and being the only son in the family, he pestered his father until the old man finally sent him to a local Soul Cultivator training class in town.

To be honest, such training classes were common across the continent, with low entry barriers and affordable fees. Most were run by Holy Sanctuary disciples who failed in the League of Blades, using the banner of "such-and-such Holy Sanctuary" to scrape by. The instructors themselves might only be at Tiger Level or even Wolf Level—bottom-rung members of the Holy Sanctuary, barely understanding Soul Cultivation themselves. The quality of their students, naturally, was questionable.

It truly came down to individual effort, luck, and innate talent. But realistically, with only one Rose Holy Sanctuary across hundreds of cities in the League of Blades, these seemingly money-grabbing Soul Cultivator classes were the only avenue for commoners to access Soul Cultivation.

Li Chunyang studied in one such class from age six to nineteen, paying tuition for thirteen straight years. He had no clear grasp of concepts like "talent" or how to measure strength, barely understanding the distinction between Wolf Level and Tiger Level. He simply followed his teacher's guidance—meditating, sparring—until about two or three years ago, when his teacher stopped sparring with him altogether, leaving him clueless about what to learn next. Yet, through routine meditation, he recently felt his physical condition improving explosively, his strength becoming terrifying. Even massive sea fish weighing two or three hundred pounds, which required several of the strongest fishermen in his father's crew to haul aboard, he could now lift with one hand and swing through the air effortlessly.

He had originally planned to apply to the Blue Moon Holy Sanctuary, but Blue Moon required applicants to be at Tiger Level. He had no idea if he had reached it—his teacher always insisted he was still Wolf Level. Worse, the starting tuition of 7,000 euros nearly gave his father a heart attack. Fishermen earned their money through life-risking labor at sea, and his father would never part with such a sum. As his old man put it, "Just treat it as a hobby. Don’t get carried away—you’re a fisherman’s son. You really think you can be a hero? That’s just storytelling! Get back on the boat. With strength like yours, it’d be a waste not to fish!"

For a time, Li Chunyang believed this was true. He even dropped out to work on his father’s boat for months—until he heard about Fantasy's legend, about how even Wolf Levels could apply to Rose Holy Sanctuary... So he packed up the wages his father had given him over those months, plus savings from years of pocket money—totaling just over 2,000 euros—and came to Rose. He had only intended to sign up as an ordinary Rose disciple, but after taking the entrance test, the senior handling registrations enthusiastically asked if he’d like to join the Ghost Level Class, declaring he'd already reached Tiger Peak!

Holy shit, Tiger Peak? A fisherman’s son like me has a shot at becoming a Ghost Level powerhouse? Doesn’t that mean I could actually be a hero?!

Li Chunyang’s head spun as the senior led him to this line. Now, seeing his idol Fantasie himself handling registrations up ahead, he felt like he might faint from sheer happiness. This whole day had been like a dream.

...The line inched forward until it was finally Li Chunyang’s turn. Fantasie himself was the one filling out his form.

"Name, age, origin, background..." Fantasie asked.

Li Chunyang’s face burned red with excitement. "I—I’m Li Chunyang, nineteen, from Windfisher Harbor in the Blue Moon Duchy. My whole family are fishermen. Honored Master Fantasy, I’m your idol—no, no! You’re my fan—wait, no, no!"

Despite rehearsing this speech countless times, nervousness made him stumble over his words. His face turned crimson as laughter erupted from the line behind him. "First a rickshaw puller, now a fisherman... Hahaha! What kind of Ghost Level Class is this? More like a commoner's class!"