Although Hawkins had been a Grand Alchemist for many years, it was clear he was nowhere near ready to consider advancing to Grandmaster.
Let alone Hawkins...
Even Grand Alchemists far more senior than Hawkins—like Bartholomew, Granger, or Kadgar—were still a long way from reaching that level. In all of Seaview City's Grand Alchemists, only Sophron and Lance had come close.
With Hawkins' current skills, tackling a problem like this could only end in disaster.
That's right, Hawkins really was in a tragic situation now...
He'd only wanted to get rid of Farrow's pestering—figuring, after all, how complicated could an ordinary alchemist's problem be? Solve it quickly so Farrow would leave. But the moment he tried, he hit a wall. Damn it, was this really something an alchemist should know? Stop messing with me...
If Farrow were a Grand Alchemist, it’d be simple: if I can't solve it, just toss the formula back. So what if I can't figure it out? If you’re so capable, solve it yourself. If none of us can, then let's drop it and get some sleep...
The problem was, Farrow was just an ordinary alchemist.
And that was a real headache...
If an alchemist can't solve a problem, they can ask a Grand Alchemist for help. But if a Grand Alchemist can't solve it, can you really toss it back to an alchemist? Wouldn't that be humiliating?
At that moment, Hawkins felt like he could die from despair.
What now? If this stalemate keeps up, are we really going to spend the night here like Farrow said? That would be a real joke—the Gilded Rose even has blankets ready!
But what if I don’t keep up the stalemate? He’s just an alchemist—am I, a Grand Alchemist, supposed to admit defeat to an ordinary alchemist? That’d be even more humiliating to talk about…
Hawkins felt like a piece of meat on the grill—no matter which side he turned, he was sizzling and dripping with fat.
Time ticked by, and sweat poured down Hawkins’ forehead. Eventually, he stopped calculating altogether, just wiping away sweat while piles of notes covered in formulas piled up at his feet. Hawkins had lost all hope for that formula—it was simply not a challenge he could handle now. All he could think about was escaping this predicament. As for the formula… to hell with it!
A full five hours passed—the morning turned into afternoon…
Yet, not a single one of the hundred-plus spectators in the hall was willing to leave, sensing that a rare spectacle was unfolding before their eyes!
At this point, even the dullest spectator could see—this Grand Alchemist named Hawkins might just become the butt of the joke…
This Grand Alchemist Hawkins had come to the Gilded Rose full of confidence, planning to show off and embarrass them. Yet, before even meeting the Gilded Rose’s own Grand Alchemists, he’d already been stumped by a young alchemist in his twenties. Where else would you see such a show? Who’d want to leave now?
So, without realizing it, the pressure on Hawkins only grew...
It’s one thing to be humiliated, but to be humiliated in front of so many people—Hawkins really couldn’t take it…
No, I have to find a way to turn this around!
Wait, I still have the Berserker Elixir!
At this thought, Hawkins’ eyes lit up—like a bolt of lightning in his mind, his thinking suddenly cleared. Damn, Farrow had really driven him to distraction. He’d come to the Gilded Rose for a technical exchange, not just to solve Farrow’s problems.
Sure, it’s embarrassing for a Grand Alchemist to be stumped by an ordinary alchemist, but since the humiliation’s already happened, why not drag the Gilded Rose down with me?
Then let’s see who ends up looking more ridiculous!
“Well, Farrow…” Hawkins made up his mind, set aside his quill, and slowly stood up. “I’ve got a general idea of how to solve this formula, but I’m a little pressed for time today. I’ve got a technical exchange with the Gilded Rose coming up. How about this—after the exchange, I’ll find time to help you work it out. If I come up with an answer, I’ll let you know…”
As soon as Hawkins said this, quite a few spectators in the hall looked at him with contempt.
Damn, Grand Alchemists really are something else—even their skin is thicker than ordinary alchemists.
He could even say something so shameless! Five hours of calculations, and the sweat he poured out could’ve drowned the Gilded Rose. Anyone could tell he was stumped by the formula. Yet he claimed to have a general idea, and that he’d notify Farrow if he found an answer. Damn, what he really meant was he’d let Farrow know in his next life…
But now that Hawkins had decided to use the Berserker Elixir to drag the Gilded Rose down with him, he no longer cared about the spectators’ contempt. Humiliation was humiliation—what did a little more or less matter? In that moment, Hawkins felt he’d reached the ultimate realm of shamelessness!
“Thank you, Grand Alchemist Hawkins…” Farrow kept his friendly smile, but the mockery in it was obvious to anyone.
“Heh, no need to thank me…” Once Hawkins decided to throw shame aside, even his expression became natural. He acted as if he hadn’t noticed Farrow’s mockery, just laughed it off and casually pulled a red potion from his pocket.
“This is the Berserker Elixir. I’m sure everyone knows what it does. At Twinmoon Radiance, we always uphold the principle of technical sharing, so we don’t plan to keep the Berserker Elixir’s formula and recipe secret. As long as the Gilded Rose can offer a formula and recipe with similar effects—even if it’s a bit weaker—we can make an exchange between our two shops. I’m sure the Gilded Rose wouldn’t refuse, right? After all, this means more choices for customers—unless the Gilded Rose doesn’t care about its customers at all…”
Hawkins’ words were truly impressive. It was clear why Monty had sent him for the technical exchange—this Grand Alchemist wasn’t like others who just buried themselves in research and experiments. Hawkins was a Grand Alchemist of the Black Tower, a place full of intrigue. Surviving there required real skill.
Just a few words, and Hawkins had already pushed the Gilded Rose to the edge of the cliff.