I'm a proper student; I only take nine kinds of potions every day.

Chapter 69: Optimism is good; optimism makes it less likely to go crazy...



Chapter 69: Optimism is good; optimism makes it less likely to go crazy...

Evan heard the sound of drawers opening and closing coming from the other side, interspersed with a few soft metallic clanging sounds.

A few minutes later, Armitage came out.

He was holding a palm-sized brass plaque in his hand.

The bronze plaque was exquisitely carved.

The surface is engraved with a special pattern that Ivan had never seen before.

The patterns resembled a mixture of some kind of writing and some kind of geometric shape, gleaming with a faint brassy luster in the light streaming in from the window.

There is a hole at the edge of the bronze plaque, through which a thin black rope woven from some kind of leather material is threaded.

"This is a talisman I used to use to ward off evil spirits."

Armitage placed it in Ivan's palm.

"In alchemy, brass is endowed with the ability to conduct energy and act as a spiritual channel."

"It also has the symbolic meaning of balancing emotions."

He tapped the black braided rope with his fingertip.

"This rope is made of snakeskin."

"In alchemy, the snake corresponds to mercury, symbolizing rationality and cold-bloodedness."

"This talisman can help you alleviate some of the desire control from cultivators. It cannot completely block their abilities."

He paused for a moment.

"But enough to prevent you from being instantly controlled."

The old man sat back down in his chair.

"Your senses are sharp. And since Alcott is interested in the witch in your bloodline, he would never kill you outright."

He looked at Evan.

"That alone is enough for you to retaliate."

Ivan took the bronze medal with both hands, feeling the slightly warm metallic weight in his palms.

"Thank you, Doctor."

His tone was genuinely serious.

Armitage sighed and leaned back in his chair.

"You've only just joined. I'm a little worried and embarrassed to have you investigate this kind of thing."

"Oh, right, take out the potions. I'll tell you what their effects are."

Ivan took the small leather pouch out of his suit pocket, untied the string, and neatly placed the four small glass bottles on Armitage's desk.

Armitage picked up the first bottle.

The bottle contained a rusty red liquid that looked like dried old blood.

"Iron Blood Potion. Beginner Potion."

The old man's tone shifted into a teaching style he was familiar with.

"Within one hour of taking it, you will lose all emotional fluctuations and become an absolutely rational machine."

He looked up at Evan.

"Negative effects: Slight damage to memory. Insomnia for two consecutive days afterward."

He put the bottle back on the table and pushed it in front of Ivan.

"Drink this potion, and you will be able to further resist the influence of the monks, so you can deal with Alcott."

"It's best to take it at the crucial moment when the opponent's problem is completely resolved."

"This is a lifesaver."

"At the same time, it's dangerous; it eliminates all emotions, including fear!"

"You can easily die from reckless impulsiveness, so use this method with extreme caution!"

Ivan looked down at the bottle of rusty red liquid, a look of almost glee in his eyes.

"Is this the real Witcher's Potion?"

Armitage stared at his expression, a strange, indescribable look flashing across his old face.

This guy sees a potion... but he reacts like a child seeing candy?

The old man coughed heavily and gave a stern warning.

"Child, remember this."

"All potions are highly poisonous. Memory damage is permanent."

Even if you have strong drug resistance, you are not an immune toxin!

"When we were developing this potion," he said in a somber tone.

"The two witchers could only remember what happened within a single day."

Ivan looked very serious.

"Is memory damage permanent?"

"This is fantastic...cough cough."

He immediately composed himself.

"I understand, Doctor."

If the damage is permanent, then the bonus is permanent.

Armitage sighed inwardly as he looked at Ivan's blatant attempt to cover up his misunderstanding.

"Is there not a single normal person in Arkham?"

He didn't say much and picked up the second bottle.

The liquid in that bottle had a deep blue-black color, and when the bottle was shaken, tiny silver particles could be seen suspended in the liquid at the bottom.

"Shark Potion. Beginner Potion."

"Within thirty minutes of taking this, your demon-hunting vision will be greatly enhanced. You can also actively block out unwanted, distracting auras."

He raised his finger and gestured.

"Maximum tracking distance: 10 kilometers."

"Negative effects."

He deliberately emphasized the word "permanent".

"Permanently and slightly impaired vision. Unable to taste anything for the next two days."

Ivan flashed a smile that Armitage had never seen before—a bright, cheerful, and completely unguarded smile.

"clear."

He accepted it as if he were agreeing to a windfall.

"By the way, Doctor."

He held up the small bag full of potions.

Are potions also graded?

Armitage nodded.

"The potion's effects increase along with its toxicity."

He tapped the table lightly with his fingers.

"Basic potion - low toxicity. A normal witcher can take 6 bottles at a time."

"Intermediate-grade potion - slightly more toxic. Limit consumption to 4 bottles at a time."

"High-grade potion - highly toxic. Maximum consumption of two bottles at a time."

Evan understood.

"That price... must be quite expensive, right?"

Armitage gave a wry smile.

"certainly."

He pointed to the four bottles of medicine that Evan had placed on the table.

"The cost of just these four bottles is one hundred dollars."

"This doesn't even include the losses caused by mistakes during the refining process."

"ah?!"

Ivan was stunned for a moment.

One hundred dollars.

That's enough for me to eat on Guding Street for almost nine months.

That's enough for him to cover his expenses for five months.

That's enough for him to buy three or six pairs of brand new pointed leather shoes!

At that moment, he finally understood completely.

Why are all Witchers so poor?

He was silent for a few seconds, then looked up, his tone serious.

"Doctor, can I get cash for this?"

Armitage's eye twitched suddenly.

"cannot!"

The old man squeezed out two words through his teeth.

"Keep listening!"

He glared at Evan with a look that said, "Say it again and I'll beat you up," and then picked up the third glass bottle on the table.

The liquid in that bottle was a deep, dark green, and at the bottom of the bottle, several wispy, suspended particles could be seen slowly tumbling within it.

"Gecko Potion. Beginner Potion."

Armitage's voice switched back to the narration mode.

"Within ten minutes of taking it, your self-healing ability will be greatly enhanced."

He looked up at Evan.

"A truly life-saving drug."

"Ivan asked curiously."

"What about the side effects?"

Armitage said.

"Severe anemia for the next seven days."

He put the bottle back on the table.

"This is the one with the mildest side effects out of these four potions; it's a magic potion with only temporary side effects."

After listening, Ivan clicked his tongue inwardly.

The greater the side effects, the greater the attribute boost after the reversal.

If the side effects are temporary, then the improvement is also temporary.

This bottle... is actually the one that loses the most money.

Armitage then reached out his right hand and picked up the last bottle of black potion on the table.

The bottle was a size larger than the other three, and its body had a deep, almost inky color.

The bottle stopper was wrapped with a red wax seal, and a thicker parchment label was affixed to the bottle, on which the word "Lion" was neatly written in cursive script.

The old man's expression became noticeably more serious.

"Lion Potion"

He paused for a moment.

"Intermediate potion."

Upon hearing the word "intermediate," Evan instinctively sat up straight.

"Lion Potion"

He silently repeated it to himself.

"This name sounds impressive."

Armitage pinched the neck of the bottle with his thumb and forefinger and slowly turned it around in the sunlight.

"Within ten minutes of taking it, it greatly enhances your physical strength and flexibility."

"Conservatively speaking, your overall physical fitness will improve by one to one and a half times."

Ivan's eyes lit up.

"The side effects are quite severe."

Armitage's tone turned somber again.

"Permanent muscle atrophy. Slightly decreased willpower, and increased sensitivity to pain."

After hearing this, Ivan said with a happy expression.

"OK."

"These are all good medicines."

Armitage stared at his expression for three seconds.

The old man stretched out his right hand and pressed the entire medicine packet onto the table, solemnly reminding everyone once again.

"remember."

"This is a potion formula I specially prepared for you based on the information Richard gave me."

"Of these four bottles, three are truly life-saving drugs."

He tapped the table with his finger.

"Never use it casually!"

"Potions aren't candy or soda!"

"Now that you've become a witcher, you should know that in this line of work, taking random drugs won't get you long to live."

Evan could sense the genuine concern in the old man's eyes.

He suppressed his smile and nodded seriously.

"Thank you for reminding me, Doctor."

"Of course I know."

He paused for a moment, then grinned.

"I'm just... more optimistic and cheerful."

Armitage was so angry about this attitude that he had no choice but to give up.

He sighed, leaned back in the old oak chair, and rubbed his temples.

"Optimism is key in this line of work."

He muttered to himself.

"Being optimistic makes it less likely to go crazy..."


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