Bartholomew probably figured that tipping off Leon about the Monty Family’s upcoming Alchemy Symposium was doing the young Grand Mage a favor.
Too bad Leon didn’t see it that way. Not even close.
Right now, Leon didn’t have a second to spare for any so-called symposium. Fifty alchemists had descended on the Gilded Rose, each demanding a face-to-face, each needing him to sort out their assignments. By midday, he was so busy his feet barely touched the ground. Monty Family’s Alchemy Symposium? Please. Even if they were hosting a funeral, Leon wouldn’t have time to send a wreath, let alone show up.
He was absolutely swamped...
Fifty alchemists—some brewed potions, some tinkered with puppets, some specialized in enchantments, some messed with magic arrays, and so on. And in the whole Gilded Rose, only Leon could actually size them up in a real conversation, only he could figure out where to put them based on what they could actually do.
Leon could barely wrangle those fifty alchemists, let alone give a damn about the Monty Family’s symposium...
Not a single one of these alchemists was easy to handle. Most strutted around, flashing their Alchemist Guild badges and looking down on every shop in Seaview City. If they ever took a job, they expected the royal treatment—one wrong word and they’d slam the table, cuss you out, and wouldn’t show you a shred of respect.
And nobody dared say a word...
There’s an old saying in the Alchemist Guild of Seaview City:
"Running an alchemy shop? Easy. Doesn’t matter if you’re out of materials, broke, or even missing an owner—as long as you’ve got an alchemist, you’re set."
That might sound a bit exaggerated, but most of the time, it was true. For an alchemy shop, the most important thing was the alchemist. Most shop owners would practically worship their alchemists—what’s a little verbal abuse, anyway? As long as they helped make money, even getting beaten up was just part of the deal...
These alchemists, so used to being treated like lords, had now been bundled up by Basolo and sent to the Gilded Rose. If anyone said they weren’t unhappy about it, they’d be lying.
But Basolo’s status in the Alchemist Guild was second only to President Lais. He was always the final authority. No matter how bold these alchemists were, none would dare show any dissatisfaction toward Basolo.
But not daring to complain to Basolo didn’t mean they wouldn’t complain to Lin Yun.
Everyone present was a member of the Alchemist Guild. Being packed off to the Gilded Rose was bad enough, but the shop’s owner actually seemed to think he was someone important. Right off the bat, he started assigning roles: You handle item enchanting, you take care of enchantment processing, you select materials, you mix potions...
A few of the more hot-tempered alchemists exploded on the spot. What was this—treating alchemists like apprentices?
What a joke. Alchemists might not run the shop, but in the lab, their word was law. Did this Gilded Rose owner even understand the rules? If he was so knowledgeable, why did he even need alchemists? He should just sit back and count his gold coins instead of bossing them around...
They thought that after those alchemists lashed out, the Gilded Rose’s owner would back off a little.
But to their surprise, he didn’t even bat an eye. He just smiled and asked, "Should I have Grand Alchemist Basolo come arrange things personally?"
The moment those words left his mouth, even the crankiest ones calmed down...
Are you kidding? Let Grand Alchemist Basolo arrange things himself? Everyone in the Alchemist Guild knows that Matthew Merlin is clinging to Grand Alchemist Basolo’s coattails. If Basolo really did take charge, nobody here would have a good time...
In the end, only two alchemists refused to give in.
Lin Yun simply ignored them...
He did, however, pay a bit of attention to the two: one old, one young. The older one was in his fifties, the younger in his twenties. Lin Yun knew the younger one—he was Basolo’s top recommendation: House. House was twenty-five, had been an alchemist for three years, which meant he’d become one at just twenty-two. A real prodigy, not much different from Faro of the Blackhorn Auction House.
It was normal for a young genius to be a little proud—especially someone like House, who’d become an alchemist at twenty-two, was a member of the Alchemist Guild, had both talent and opportunity, and a bright future ahead. Yet with one word from Basolo, he’d been packed off to the Gilded Rose. If he wasn’t at least a little resentful, that would be a lie.
But when it came to the older one, Lin Yun frowned.
This alchemist was in his fifties, with an utterly ordinary appearance and average skills—the sort you could see ten times and never remember. Lin Yun had to ask around just to learn his name: John. Listen to that—John. There must be at least eight thousand people named John in Seaview City. He was as ordinary as they come.
But this utterly average alchemist had caught Lin Yun’s attention more than once. John usually kept to himself, barely spoke, but whenever the other alchemists caused trouble, he was always the loudest...
It looked like Basolo had sent him another headache.
Lin Yun didn’t say anything out loud, but in his heart, he’d already made a note of John.
The morning flew by. Lin Yun spoke with each alchemist and made arrangements for every one of them. By afternoon, it was time to help them settle into their new roles.
"Boss Merlin, what’s the meaning of this?" Sure enough, when it was House’s turn, trouble started up again...
To accommodate the fifty alchemists, the Gilded Rose had gone all out—the old steward bought up more than a dozen houses and converted them all into alchemy labs. Now, Lin Yun and House were standing in one of the newly renovated labs.
This particular lab was assigned to House, but the young genius was clearly not pleased...
"What do you mean?" Lin Yun couldn’t help but frown again. He didn’t say much, but he was already a little annoyed with Basolo.
I gave you the alchemy formulas fair and square, and you sent me this whole bunch of 'lords'—especially House, who’s as troublesome as they come...
"Boss Merlin, just look at these magic materials—aren’t they a bit too low-grade? This stuff’s only good for apprentices to practice with. And look at this alchemy table—Boss Merlin, is the Gilded Rose alright? These tools were phased out by the Alchemist Guild ten years ago. Did you get them from an antique market?"
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By the way, I forgot to mention—the Sanjiang ticket can be claimed once a day at 2 p.m., but it seems you need to be a VIP or spend a certain amount to vote. Anyway, if you can vote, it’s a favor to me. If you can’t, it’s fine—I still appreciate the support.