Chapter 13: Mind Interference with Matter

“No problem, I estimate it will cost one or two Gold Thales, and I can probably get it in two weeks. You don’t need to pay for it; your old man has money.” Romon said with a seemingly carefree wave of his hand, though a flicker of pain crossed his face.

“The Whomping-Willow is very common in the northern part of the city-state near the Larr Mountains. It’s just that few people need the root tuber of that thing. It’s hard to deal with and not very useful, so general Monster Hunter teams just go around it.”

Just as Ace had predicted, Romon readily agreed to take on the task of inquiring about and acquiring the Whomping-Willow crown root tuber.

He had a good amount of money left from selling the full body heavy armor. Ace did not overthink it, as Romon was his father after all. Once he finished compiling the dictionary and secured Citizenship, he would move the whole family to the First District and let Romon resume the life of a Citizen family.

At the tavern Romon often frequented. The tavern itself had no name. The owner was Connie, a skinny old man.

Old Connie lost a leg while fighting Monsters in his youth and was fitted with a wooden prosthetic leg. Because the leg often ached on rainy days, he needed to drink frequently for pain relief. Encouraged by his old comrades, he simply opened a small tavern.

“Brother Connie, I’d like to offer you a drink.” Romon sat at the bar, grabbed a bottle of wine, and poured a glass for old Connie.

“When does Romon ever treat me to a drink? What family heirloom are you trying to sell this time?” Connie took the drink and said loudly.

“Keep it down, keep it down. Brother, I’m a little embarrassed to say, but I want to get a Whomping-Willow root tuber to taste.”

“Why would you want to taste that? The Whomping-Willow is a troublesome thing, and a whole root tuber won’t be cheap.”

“Brother, if I tell you, you can’t laugh at me.”

Connie’s face was full of curiosity. With his big mouth, he probably couldn’t keep any secrets.

“Hurry up and tell me. Your brother here is famously tight-lipped.”

“I see, no problem, no problem, family harmony comes first. It’s just that the price won’t be cheap. Get your Gold Thales ready.”

“Then I’ll leave it to you, brother.”

Romon and Connie chatted aimlessly for a while longer, then Romon staggered out of the tavern.

“Brother, what were you and Romon talking about?” Several veterans came forward to ask after Romon left.

“I can’t say, I can’t say.”

“Brother, then let’s drink, let’s drink.”

After a few drinks.

“None of you can spread this around, but Romon has a problem in that department. I heard that Whomping-Willow root tubers are helpful, and he wants to get one to try.”

“That stuff is troublesome to get, and it must be expensive!”

“It’s precisely because it’s expensive that it might actually work. Why don’t we get some too? We can try it later, hehe…”

A few days later, the news that Whomping-Willow root tubers promote family harmony spread throughout the tavern. Romon ignored the strange looks from others. He had already figured it out: the formula for the medicine his son was preparing must be kept secret. It was necessary to create some smoke and mirrors to confuse others.

Two weeks later, Ace received a large Whomping-Willow crown root tuber. He stored it in a dry, dark place.

He had not been idle during this time. By reading relevant books, he learned some calming potion formulas, purchased many calming and mind-refreshing herbs at the market, and caught many small mice. He tied them all up, preparing to begin his experiments.

Based on the medicinal properties, he combined 10 different formulas, cut small pieces from the tuber, killed the Panic Crows and ground the crystals taken from their skulls into powder. He mixed them together in a 3:1 ratio and boiled them into a paste using different supplementary ingredients. Four of them were green; the others were black.

Ace force-fed these pastes to the captured mice. Three died instantly. The others that ate the black paste didn’t survive for more than half an hour.

The four small mice that ate the green paste did not die immediately. Ace tied them up and hung them from the ceiling beam with long ropes to observe the effects.

The library work was finished, and he received 10 Silver Thales as reward and a commendation recorded as equivalent to one beheading merit. Now, he spent his days compiling the dictionary at Teacher Peter’s house and his evenings conducting experiments. The small mice all developed fevers to varying degrees, but ultimately none of them survived.

Ace meticulously recorded the experiment conditions on parchment. Based on the existing experimental data analysis, the black formulas were incorrect formulas and could be recorded as a type of poison.

The green formulas should be effective. Whether the formula ratio needed to be adjusted or the dosage reduced required further experimentation.

For a period of time thereafter, dead mice frequently appeared in Ace’s room. Every morning, he carefully took the dead mice out to be burned and then buried. A rumor began to circulate among the neighbors in the Eighth District that Romon’s family enjoyed eating mice.

Finally, Ace formulated a viscous, bright green medicine. After consuming it, a small mouse developed a mild fever but did not die.

He conducted group tests, comparing the small mice that consumed the medicine with those that did not, using the same test content.

He found that the mice that consumed the medicine were more agile, had stronger memories, and were smarter. After a few more sets of experiments to ensure the medicine’s effect was stable, Ace decided to consume it himself.

He first took one dose at the mouse dosage. After confirming there were no immediate effects, he persistently took three doses a day at the mouse dosage. After more than half a month, Ace felt his memory, reaction speed, and associative ability rapidly improve.

The most direct manifestation was the rapid progress of the dictionary compilation work. In another half month, the common vocabulary section would be completed.

The autumn air was crisp, and the hottest season had passed. Sunday every week is a rest day, also called God-King Day, the rumored birthday of God-King Kronos on the seventh day after the world was formed.

Ace did not go anywhere today, enjoying a nap at home. When he woke up drowsily, he habitually drank a mouthful of the bright green medicine.

After swallowing it, Ace suddenly felt an intense heat in his body, a splitting headache, and difficulty breathing. He struggled for a long time, as if drowning, and everything before his eyes seemed to turn black.

“Huff! Huff!” After a long time, Ace, who had stopped struggling, suddenly gasped for air. He could finally breathe. He felt parched and slowly climbed out of bed, intending to pick up his earthenware cup for a drink of water. Instead, he saw the cup floating up, wobbling.

“Clang!”

The earthenware cup fell to the ground, a chip broken off the rim, and the water inside spilled into a puddle.

Ace looked at everything before him in disbelief. He had completely forgotten his thirst and focused his energy on trying to make the cup fly again. The cup flew unsteadily, like a baby learning to walk, then gradually became more proficient, circling Ace repeatedly. Ace’s grin almost stretched back to the back of his head.

As the cup flew around the room, small items followed it, flying wherever it went, as if performing a cheerful serenade.

“Crash!”

The cheerfully flying items suddenly dropped, and the cheerful serenade abruptly stopped, shattering on the floor. Ace rolled around on the bed, holding his head. He felt a splitting headache, as if someone was continuously smashing his head with a heavy hammer.

A long time passed. It was already dark outside when Ace finally felt some relief. Just then, Marina came in. She was surprised to see the broken items scattered everywhere and wondered what was wrong with her usually mature and stable son. “Did something upset you? Don’t keep it inside; tell your mother.”

Marina stepped over the broken items, hugged her son, who was clutching his head, and held him tightly in her arms with concern.

(End of this chapter)