There were far more crafting methods that used anomalies or Mysteries as materials than he had expected.
However, since all he had torn off was an arm, he couldn’t touch any recipe that required pouring in an entire corpse.
If he had known this would happen, he should have used magic on the upper body somehow.
Regret lingered, but it was already in the past. There was no point in regretting it now.
Ian steeped a green tea bag in cold water, took a sip, and rustled to the next page.
[Feather That Prevents Hemostasis]
[Incense That Makes One Unable to Distinguish Dreams from Reality]
[Fan That Drives Away Evil Spirits]
[Bowl That Attracts Evil Spirits]
He skimmed through various alchemical recipes, looking for something reasonably easy to make and impressive in effect. Since it had to include materials made from an anomaly, he took that into account as he flipped quickly through the pages.
In the midst of that, one item caught his eye.
[Dying Eyeball]
[If the image of a specific target is imprinted onto the retina and then the eyeball is burst, that target’s eyeballs will burst.]
[Materials: 1 eyeball of a living creature, a small amount of anomalous flesh, 100 ml of human blood, 500 ml of water, 1 leaf of poisonous herb, aether.]
[Precautions: It may draw the gaze of wicked things, so it must be crafted in a mage’s workshop.]
It would burst the eyes of the target imprinted on the retina. Simple, yet with a fairly drastic effect. Since it could destroy one of the five senses without risk, it would provide a considerable advantage in combat as well.
The materials were simpler than expected, too.
For the living creature’s eyeball, he could just pluck out a fish eye, and the rest were common enough to obtain right away. The 100 ml of blood bothered him a little, but if he thought of it as donating blood, drawing that much wouldn’t be impossible. As for the poisonous herb, he could get one from Petal.
But separate from the simplicity of the recipe, the precaution made it seem impossible to craft right away.
“A mage’s workshop, huh…….”
Ian knew what a workshop was. Painting pictures, making pottery, and so on. It was a space artisans used as a workroom. A place separate from the space where one carried on daily life.
According to the grimoire, it was a space made solely and thoroughly for handling magic. An alien space exclusively for mages, one that completely defended against outside gazes and intrusions.
Ian had no such thing. He had made a single knife in his rented room, but this place was a living space, not a workshop. It was by no means an isolated space in the magical sense.
“This is troublesome.”
Ian, as he was now, did not have the means to rent another room. Paying rent and living expenses was already tight, and now he was supposed to get another studio apartment to use as a workshop? His back would break before he even used magic.
Unless he had some other means of securing funds, it was impossible for the current Ian to obtain a workshop. Even if he had become a mage who handled Mysteries, money remained a realistic problem.
“Isn’t there some spell for copying money……?”
He searched through the grimoire just in case, but no such spell appeared. In the end, Ian let out a deep sigh and closed the grimoire.
At that exact moment, the food he had ordered arrived.
Ian set the food down in his room, then went up to the rooftop for a moment and smoked a cigarette.
‘Is there really no way?’
Even if he didn’t make the Dying Eyeball, in order to properly use the alchemy written in the grimoire, the existence of a workshop was absolutely necessary.
He couldn’t keep fiddling only with items he could make without a workshop forever. To develop, he had to make more impressive tools and grow accustomed to magic. That meant a workshop was not optional, but essential.
‘If I sold items made through alchemy to earn money…… it’d be easy to get traced.’
This was a world where an organization called the Bureau was openly running around on its own two feet. Rather than carelessly leaving a trail and getting entangled with them in a bad way, it seemed better not to sell anything.
Above all, while many of the items made through alchemy were beneficial to humans, twice as many were harmful. If he carelessly released such an item and someone lost their life because of it, he felt he would sleep rather poorly.
Of course, one could say he simply shouldn’t sell harmful items. But no one knew what people would do. He might start by selling only good things, then get a taste for money and end up releasing other things as well.
Did people who fell into gambling addiction all know they would end up that way? Rather than needlessly increasing bad options, it was right not to try at all. Overconfidence was the shortcut to ruin.
“……Hoo.”
Ian exhaled smoke into the air and roughly ground the cigarette out against the wall. He took the trash with him and threw it into the bin at home.
‘If I throw away human decency, there are plenty of ways to earn money. If it comes to it, I could even take murder commissions on the dark web. I could figure out how to do it slowly.’
But he didn’t particularly want to go that far.
It wasn’t because he was especially virtuous. It was because the moment he ignored even the bare minimum of human decency, he felt there would be no turning back.
Once he crossed the line, he would no longer be able to set foot in the world within it. He would have to live forever on the fringes, avoiding the Bureau’s pursuit, and it was obvious he would be ostracized even within the society of other mages.
The losses were too severe compared to the gains. It wasn’t something to consider in the first place.
“Then what do I do?”
In the end, he was back to square one.
Ian let out a deep sigh and took a bite of the sandwich he had ordered. The moment he also took a sip of the Americano that came with it, the existence of the Gallery suddenly surfaced in his mind.
It was usually a place overflowing with all kinds of shitposts, but in any case, it was also a community with plenty of useful information.
Hoping for the best, Ian left a post on the Gallery to ask for advice.
[Title: I’m thinking of trying some alchemy, so how do you make a mage’s workshop?]
[ㅇㅇ]
I’m thinking of making something with the Palcheok arm I caught yesterday, but it says I absolutely have to make it in a workshop because it might draw the gaze of wicked things.
But I don’t have enough money to get a workshop, so I’m stuck.
This is frustrating. Anyone got any tips?
[Upvotes 0][Downvotes 0]
After posting, he cleaned up the food he had eaten. When he checked the comments a little later, a mage with a familiar username had left a reply.
[Comments]
-SeriousMagicAddict: If the grimoire warns you that much, you must be planning to make something fairly powerful.
ㄴㅇㅇ: It is an offensive item.
ㄴSeriousMagicAddict: Then you absolutely have to make it in a workshop. If you ignore that for no reason and receive the gaze of a Mystery like a demon or an evil spirit, things become troublesome.
So the wicked things written in the grimoire referred to demons or evil spirits.
‘No, it might not be limited to just those two.’
Perhaps it might draw the gaze of an Outer God or its creation, or something that had not derived from urban legends or ghost stories, but had truly been born from Mystery.
If he encountered them when he still didn’t have any proper means to defend himself, he could literally die.
It was a time to think carefully.
-ㅇㅇ: Then I guess I’ll just have to give up. I need to save money first.
ㄴSeriousMagicAddict: Hmm.
ㄴSeriousMagicAddict: If you truly want to test alchemy, would you like to come to my workshop?
This was an unexpected offer. Ian typed with a surprised expression.
ㄴㅇㅇ: Can I?
ㄴSeriousMagicAddict: As long as you aren’t an evil person, I don’t mind. It’s a chance for me to see firsthand how alchemy is performed, so I welcome it. It’s my first time letting someone else into my workshop, but it isn’t exactly a space I need to hide.
ㄴㅇㅇ: I’m not an evil person, at least;;
ㄴSeriousMagicAddict: Wait a moment.
SeriousMagicAddict said that, then wrote a new comment.
-SeriousMagicAddict: Godmother.
Godmother.
The administrator of the mage community, and if one compared it to the Gallery, someone no different from a mod.
As soon as SeriousMagicAddict called her, Godmother immediately sent a reply.
ㄴ★Godmother: Yes, what is it?
ㄴSeriousMagicAddict: I’m thinking of inviting the new mage who recently joined to my workshop. Is there any possibility something will happen to me if I invite him?
ㄴ★Godmother: Are you referring to the anon username ㅇㅇ?
ㄴSeriousMagicAddict: Yes.
ㄴ★Godmother: Please wait a moment.
The moment Godmother left that comment, Ian abruptly felt the gaze of something looking at him and flinched.
It was not a malicious gaze. To begin with, it was not an ordinary gaze either.
Rather than being seen with physical eyes, it was closer to being sensed.
It was a look that peered not at a person’s outer appearance, but into their inner self. The grimoire immediately reacted to that gaze, but Ian suppressed it.
‘……Godmother used magic.’
He realized it instinctively.
Since she was the head of a community, he had expected her level to be fairly high, but he had not expected her to be able to search a distant target remotely.
She had even used the magic instantly, without anything like a preparation process. It was proof that not only her level but also her mastery of magic itself was considerable.
She was not the administrator for nothing.
Ian wiped the cold sweat that had formed on his forehead and checked the newly written comment.
-★Godmother: Fundamentally, he is a good person. I don’t think anything harmful will happen to you.
ㄴㅇㅇ: Did you just use magic?
ㄴ★Godmother: Mm. Did you perhaps feel the gaze?
ㄴㅇㅇ: It was so blatant it was harder to pretend I didn’t notice.
ㄴ★Godmother: I used it rather discreetly, but it seems you have considerable talent. Even if you had not been chosen by the grimoire, I think you would have entered magic someday.
It was sudden praise. Ian let out a hollow laugh.
ㄴㅇㅇ: That’s a really unpleasant spell.
ㄴ★Godmother: I’m sorry if you felt that way. But personally, I feel a sense of duty to maintain public order among the mages of Korea, so I need to distinguish between the evil and the good.
When it comes to joining the community, I don’t separate good and evil, but when there is a need to meet face-to-face like this, I personally verify things and confirm safety. If the person you meet is evil, a dangerous situation could arise.
People don’t often recklessly harm others just because they are in the same community, but there are always exceptions.
So whenever something like this happens, I inform each party of the other’s disposition, and leave the choice of whether to meet up to the individuals involved.
“That is a reasonable method.”
Ian quickly accepted it.
ㄴㅇㅇ: Okay for now. Anyway, that means it’s guaranteed that I’m a safe person, right?
ㄴ★Godmother: That’s right. You have committed no crimes, and your disposition is close to good, so there is no issue. For reference, SeriousMagicAddict is also a good person, so you don’t need to worry.
-SeriousMagicAddict: Since the verification is complete, all that remains is to set a day.
ㄴㅇㅇ: Any time is fine with me.
ㄴSeriousMagicAddict: Then let’s meet this Saturday. I’ll send you the address by message, so come at whatever time is convenient. I’ll be there all day.
ㄴㅇㅇ: OK, seriously, thanks. I’ll bring a gift too.
ㄴSeriousMagicAddict: Understood. I’ll see you then.
The conversation ended there.
Ian stretched his arms wide, then let his body slump as he gazed out the window at the sky beginning to darken.
‘Since today is Friday, I’ll be going tomorrow.’
There was no need to go to his part-time job. Since the convenience store had been wrecked, he was on forced leave for the time being.
The manager believed the reason the convenience store had been destroyed was that a group of drunk customers had caused a disturbance.
With the appearance of the anomaly, the CCTV had gone dead, so there was no way to see what had happened that day. He trusted only Ian’s words and was grinding his teeth, saying he would catch those drunkards.
It was unfortunate for him, but he probably would not catch the culprit.
Ding.
While he was thinking, a message arrived. Ian immediately checked the address that had been sent and narrowed his eyes slightly.
“……He was from Busan?”
In the long address, the words Busan Metropolitan City were clearly written. For Ian, who lived in the Gyeonggi area, it was a fairly long distance.
It seemed he would have to take a train.