20demayo Chapter 330 An Age-Old Problem
Chapter 330 An Age-Old Problem
Chapter 330 An Age-Old Problem
Looking at the three burly men in front of him, François was filled with fear.
Fortunately, the other party also seemed to know Mr. Mosley, indicating that this person was likely not an enemy.
But the man suddenly fell silent, leaving François somewhat at a loss.
Finally, François couldn't help but ask:
"Um, sir, what exactly do you want to see me about?"
Upon hearing this, the other person abruptly raised their head, their expression softening considerably.
"Haha, this is a misunderstanding. So you're an acquaintance of Mr. Mosley. Then we can be considered friends. My name is Leo Gibson." "Hello, my name is François Lemaître," François finally breathed a sigh of relief. "So, Mr. Leo, you also came here on Mr. Mosley's instructions?"
"No, but I did pass by the library on my way here."
Upon hearing this, François's eyes lit up, and he asked eagerly:
"Really? Did Mr. Mosley tell you when I should go back?"
He never mentioned you to me.
Hearing this, François couldn't help but feel a little disappointed.
But she immediately followed up with, "So, did you see a young couple in the library?"
"You mean Miss Harriet and Mr. Cathy?"
"Yes, did they mention me?"
No, haha.
Hearing Leo's laughter, François felt it was mockery.
Hmm—nobody remembers me at all, and some people are suspicious. Do they think it doesn't matter whether I go back or not?
François was somewhat hurt.
But François still remembered that there were people around, so he quickly regained his composure.
"So, what brings you here?"
"Oh, as you can see, do some spice business."
"I see."
Just then, François suddenly remembered what Mr. Mosley had told him.
Mastering the use of spices will make him the greatest chef of our time.
Although François had reservations about this conclusion.
But he also understood Mr. Mosley's unfathomable nature.
Look! He even knows spice merchants!
According to François's knowledge, prior to this, no one in the Far East even knew of the existence of spices.
Therefore, François felt that Mr. Mosley must have his reasons for saying that.
As long as he masters the art of cooking, he will be able to return to his hometown.
In other words, as long as he masters how to use the spices, he will be able to go back!
Ha! That's it.
However, the master also said that he needed to master alchemy—
But, is completing half of it still considered a completion?
Hmm! Okay!
François, upon thinking of this, couldn't help but get excited and hurriedly said to Leo:
"Sir, could you sell me some spices?"
To everyone's surprise, he was very generous: "Sell? No! I'll give you some for free!"
Merchants don't give things away for no reason, and François knew that he must have done so because of Mr. Mosley.
But François didn't refuse: "Then thank you."
To this day, François still harbors resentment towards Mr. Mosley for sending him to the Far East.
Using a little of Mr.'s connections is just a small way of getting revenge on him.
Afterwards, the two exchanged some more information.
Leo said, "I have just arrived in the Far East and I am not familiar with the situation here. Moreover, I do not speak the language. If you have any suggestions, I would appreciate your guidance."
François waved his hands repeatedly, saying, "I don't know much about it either."
This is not modesty; François indeed doesn't know much about it.
"Really? That's a real shame."
"However, I do know someone who speaks many languages."
"Oh?" Leo's face lit up with delight. "Haha, sir, I would appreciate it if you could introduce me to this person—"
"There's no problem, it's just—"
"Um?"
"It's about that person's identity; I'm afraid you'll mind—"
"Having a knack for reading people won't make you a good businessman, hahaha," Leo grinned. "Sir, please speak freely!"
François knocked on Olga's door.
The door opened quickly, and Olga, upon seeing François, smiled and said:
"You're late, Fatty."
"Little Fatty" is Olga's nickname for François.
Since their first meeting, François has visited Olga's home three more times.
During these three trips, he learned many new fish dishes.
At the same time, he and Olga had sex twice more.
The first time François offered to pay, Olga's face darkened, and she warned François not to bring it up again.
François was frightened and, of course, dared not say another word.
François actually meant no harm, because Olga genuinely made him feel very comfortable.
This is François' fourth visit, but there probably won't be any happy moments today because:
"Miss, I brought a few friends with me this time."
Olga frowned slightly, puzzled by François's actions.
But she seemed to trust François and eventually let them into her home.
Leo seemed to be very good at talking, and he quickly took the initiative to explain his request.
Olga remained silent for a long time after hearing this.
Finally, she said:
"I'm a prostitute. I learn languages to better serve my clients, not to be your translator."
Leo laughed and said, "I can be your customer too, but I hope you can teach me the authentic local language."
"Ha!" Olga laughed. "Then you will surely learn how to conquer a woman, provided, of course, that your manhood isn't just for show, or that you have enough silver coins in your purse."
"You don't need to worry about that," Leo said with a smile. "I just want to learn a foreign language."
After much negotiation, the two finally reached an agreement.
Leo seemed to be a very capable person; after the conversation, he prepared to take his leave.
François immediately got up; today was probably not a good day for him to learn new dishes.
Before leaving, Olga pinched François hard on the waist.
Fortunately, François had a lot of fat, so it wasn't too painful.
"You really know how to cause me trouble."
Honestly, François simply felt that this matter was beneficial to both of them.
After leaving Olga's house, Leo parted ways with François:
"Sir, my ship is at the dock. If you want to find me, go there and look for the Silk Veil."
François nodded.
Leo then gave François a large amount of spices before leaving.
François, carrying the string of jars filled with spices and tied with hemp rope, smiled contentedly.
He felt he was one step closer to going home!
Just then, he suddenly looked up and saw a girl in a blue dress looking at him.
Although she was described as a girl, her appearance and figure were very masculine. If it weren't for her clothing, François really wouldn't have been able to tell her gender.
She has a very slender figure, which is completely different from her curvaceous figure; she is the complete opposite of Olga.
Her hair was short, though clearly trimmed and fairly neat.
His face was angular and handsome, but he had many freckles on his cheeks.
In short, if you say she's a beauty, even François, the fat man everyone dislikes, would dare to deny it.
François vaguely remembered the woman; she seemed to be Miss Olga's neighbor.
Whenever François came here to discuss culinary arts with Miss Olga, he could always see her nearby.
And the girl, as usual, cast a disdainful glance at François.
However, François was already used to being looked down upon, so he didn't take it to heart.
But when François passed by her, she uttered a single word today.
"."
Ok?
François stopped in his tracks. "Miss, are you speaking to me?"
"So what's wrong with you!" The girl raised her pointed chin. "Isn't it true that you're just like those sleazy men, sneaking off to that slut's house to see her?"
Although François didn't care how others ruined him, if it involved Olga—
Miss Olga was quite kind to François, so François decided to say a few words in her defense.
"Miss, you may have misunderstood. Olga and I are not in that kind of relationship."
"Oh? You didn't do 'that' with her at her house?"
François couldn't refute it; he could only blush and admit:
"I did it—but it's really not what you expected."
"Stop arguing, you lecherous pig!"
Upon hearing this word, François was filled with shame and felt as if he had run away with the jar.
Behind them, came the woman's hoarse laughter.
François hated that woman to the core at that moment, so she decided to avoid her next time.
François returned to the Deathstroke Alchemy Group.
He walked toward the kitchen in the corner, his own private haven.
Cooking is his true passion, far more so than the dangerous alchemy.
By the way, François actually tried alchemy once, and judging from the result, it was quite successful and did not cause François any harm.
But deep down, he still fears alchemy.
François also enjoys cooking; when he does it, he can forget everything else.
This is alcohol that belongs only to him.
François hummed a little tune he had learned while performing on the white streets of the city.
Prepare the ingredients happily, ready to show off your culinary skills.
François's culinary skills have improved considerably recently, and the fish cooking techniques he learned from Miss Olga have received rave reviews from the alchemists.
Oh! If there were an oven here, François would also like to let them try the bread he learned from Madame Ylena.
Come to think of it, François never looked for Madame Yelena again.
François dared not see her.
But François also understood that his wife must be very distressed recently.
Although François felt that the lady had hurt him, he decided that she had taught him cooking after all, and he would try to see her again next time to say some comforting words as a way of repaying her kindness.
Just as François was considering what to cook for the alchemists that evening—
He suddenly thought, why not take this opportunity to learn how to use spices?
With that in mind, François decided to give it a try.
Spices are such a good thing, surely we can't afford to mess them up?
So François opened one of the small jars.
The aroma wafted out instantly, and François took a careful sniff.
"Achoo!"
He sneezed loudly.
Wow! This thing is really something else!
François was determined to conquer it!
He reached into the jar, gently grabbed it, and discovered that it contained a mixture of various spices.
It seems there are many kinds of spices, and these few jars can't possibly hold all of them.
Just then, François felt someone tug at him from behind.
François quickly turned around and saw that it was the alchemist, Vladimir.
"Scholar, what's wrong?"
"The commander wants to see you."
Vladimir pulled François along, heading straight out of the kitchen, before François could even put down the jar he was holding.
Soon, he arrived in front of the regimental commander.
"Commander Rand—"
François took the initiative to greet him.
"Yes," Rand nodded. "Scholar François, I've wanted to tell you about this for a long time, although I appreciate your initiative in taking on the task of preparing meals for the lab."
"However, you are, after all, an alchemist, and that is the reason I invited you to join. In fact, you have demonstrated your knowledge of alchemy on several occasions, and you are exceptionally talented."
"Therefore, holding the belief that they did not want to see talent go to waste, and also in order to purify the composition of the Deathstroke Alchemy Guild, Bachelor,"
I think you must also take on some of the responsibilities of alchemy.
Good heavens, this is François's greatest fear.
To be honest, François hasn't slacked off in his studies of alchemy these days.
He had been reading the book "Elementary Alchemy," even though it contained many words that François did not recognize.
However, he has already mastered the skills of reading.
Even if you skip around while reading, you can still understand half of the book.
After reading another section, you can go back and look at the text you didn't understand before, and you'll be able to guess what it means.
As for the alchemical knowledge that Rand mentioned, François basically learned it from this book.
The knowledge in this book is very basic, but Mr. Mosley said that the most basic things are often the most profound.
The fact that Rand is now making such a comment about François suggests that there may indeed be some truth to what he's saying.
As for what Rand was asking of him, François knew that he probably couldn't keep running away forever.
Hmm...— He could only agree to:
"Commander Rand, what do you want me to do?"
"Try making a few bottles of alchemical potions."
"But I don't know what to make—"
Rand smiled; he seemed to have been waiting for François to say those words:
"I've prepared the formula and ingredients for you, the Six-Fever Potion!"
At this moment, Vladimir, standing to the side, frowned and interjected:
"Commander, the materials for buff potions are very rare, and L's crafting techniques are also very demanding. If we rashly let him do alchemy, the resulting losses will be extremely expensive."
Rand looked at Vladimir: "You look down on him? Where did your learned humility go?"
"I—" Vladimir stammered, "I'm just a little worried, since he's never actually done alchemy in a lab before."
"Everyone has a first time. Besides, have you forgotten his past experience of making erosion medicine? He pointed out problems that others hadn't noticed, which means he might be experienced, or at least theoretically sound."
François hoped Vladimir would say a few more words and try to persuade Rand to give up his idea.
Despite his insistence, Vladimir eventually yielded, and François was forced to undergo alchemy.
And Rand had indeed prepared the alchemy formula and materials, just waiting for François to carry it out.
Despite his fear, François had no choice but to bite the bullet and go ahead.
François quickly prepared the "Six-Fever Potion".
Honestly, it's not much harder than cooking.
However, alchemical drugs, whether in their production or use, always bring side effects, and François could not shake off his resistance no matter what.
François handed the potion to Rand.
Rand took it, but his brow furrowed:
"Transparent?"
"Hmm, shouldn't it be transparent?"
"It should be milky white."
Rand offered no further explanation, but instead took the medicine and headed towards the cage where the rats were kept.
François knew that Rand was going to conduct an experiment.
At that moment, the alchemists who were free all looked over.
The reason is that François made an abnormal potion, so these people are ashamed to say.
However, François was not afraid of being chosen by others; he was already used to it.
Rand grabbed a mouse and poured the potion into its mouth.
It put the mouse in a transparent box.
Soon, the rat became agitated, rampaging through the area tirelessly.
Upon seeing this, François breathed a sigh of relief.
The rats were very excited, which means the medicine was successfully made.
However, the atmosphere at the scene was strange.
Although no one mocked François, the room was completely silent.
Everyone seemed to hold their breath, and there was a strange look in their eyes.
And Rand, standing ahead, remained motionless for a very long time.
Suddenly, Rand abruptly turned his head.
His eyes were wide open and bloodshot.
Then, with those terrifying eyes, he greedily stared into François's pupils as well.
Rand turned around and strode toward François, grabbing his shoulders tightly and shaking him violently.
This sight frightened François, and he dared not utter a sound for a moment.
Rand exclaimed in an almost manic voice, "You! How did you do that?!"
"Huh?" François was utterly puzzled.
"That potion! The transparent Six-Fever Potion!"
Rand almost screamed, her voice cracking.
"The formula for this bottle of Six-Fold Elixir has been improved. The alchemical elixir has uncontrollable side effects, but the side effects can be controlled."
"The formula for this six-in-one drug has side effects, causing acute skin diseases in users. However, this mouse showed no skin symptoms whatsoever!"
"Scholar François, may the Wise Man bless you! Ha ha, do you know what this means?"
François was terrified, shaking his head rapidly in fear, even the fat on his face jiggling.
"Note: This medicine has no side effects!"
If anyone saw Rand's expression at that moment, and Gutsch judged him to be insane, François wouldn't be surprised.
"Every potion has side effects! For millennia, countless alchemists have attempted to eliminate these side effects, but none have succeeded. This is an age-old problem! Yet, you have solved it! François! You have made history! You have created a new era, you have opened up a new world for alchemy!"
"Oh! François! Scholar! Sir! Ancestor! I beg you! I implore you to have mercy and tell me how you did it!!!"
François was also puzzled by this.
He followed the recipe step by step without performing any special operations.
François couldn't help but lower his head, looking at his alchemical hands, trying to recall the details of his alchemy.
Then he noticed some small particles on his palm.
An idea suddenly popped into François's mind.
Could it be...?
He broke free from Rand's grip and took a step back.
Then I raised my palm and smelled it hard—
It smells so good!