Shrouded Seascape

Chapter 114. Potion

"Where did you go at night?" Charles asked inwardly. He hadn’t been to the seaside, so Lily definitely saw Richard rather than him.

"Heh, you know I've taken a liking to fishing lately. So I used my own time to indulge in my new hobby. Do you have a problem with that?"

Charles remained silent at Richard’s response and continued painting.

Time passed by, second after second. At last, the final stroke was added to the painting. Charles retrieved his pocket watch and looked at the time. He relinquished control of his body; it was now time for his alter ego.

Humming a tune, Richard took out a fresh journal and started writing his outline for his work titled "Twenty Thousand Miles into the Subterranean Sea."

The scratch of the pen against the dry paper sang a monotonous tune and left a fluid script in its path.

The story spoke of the tales of a young boy by the name of Mirey and his whimsical adventures in the Subterranean Sea. The chapters were filled with various humorous quips and playful anecdotes, and as Richard wrote, he occasionally burst out in laughter at his own jokes.

It had only been four hours, but Richard was already halfway through his incoherent novel.

"Heh, bro, what do you think of this joke? One day, Mirey accidentally let out a series of loud farts at home. His grandma, who was knitting by the side, abruptly stood up and said, 'Kid, quickly open the door; your second uncle is back with a tra—pffft! Hahahaha!"

Richard doubled over in laughter and pounded his fist on the desk before he could even deliver the punchline.

After a few minutes of Charles' lack of response, Richard's hysterical laughter gradually subsided, and a satisfied grin spread across his face.

Tossing the pen aside, he pushed the window open and leaped out. Draped in a deep blue captain uniform, he nimbly jumped across rooftops like a seasoned acrobat.

Richard leaped effortlessly, executing a graceful spin before landing on the docks lined with vessels. His gaze landed on a colossal black and red steamship that was twice the size of the Narwhale.

Just as he was about to make his way over with a spring in his steps, he retracted his foot almost instantly. "No, no, he doesn't walk like that."

Richard placed his hands over his face and massaged his features.

After a couple of seconds, he lowered his hands. The defiant and scornful expression of Richard had vanished. In its place, the perpetually stoic expression with a hint of weariness was unmistakably Charles.

Clearing his throat with a cough, Richard—channeling Charles—adjusted his voice by pinching his throat with his prosthetic hand before walking toward the ship.

The moment he boarded the ship, Elizabeth approached him. Dressed in a crisp, white captain's attire, she looped her arm through his and asked, "Charles, why are you so late today?"

"Hmm... I got held up by some matters. How are things progressing?" Charles asked with a cold expression.

"He's in the cabin. I heard that he achieved some breakthrough progress concerning the task you assigned. What have you been up to? You cooped yourself up in the room with him whenever you are here. How secretive..."

"It's nothing much. I'll let you know once it's resolved." Richard then brought Elizabeth to a nearby cabin.

The ship was massive, with its interior divided into three expansive decks. Each level boasted a unique design flair. The individuals aboard deviated from the appearance of a typical sailor. Most of them donned lengthy violet robes and were crowned with conical soft hats.

When they looked at Richard, their gazes were respectful with a hint of curiosity. Lately, this man had been collaborating closely with their leader, but no one knew the exact nature of their dealings.

Under their watchful eyes, Richard and Elizabeth arrived at the lowest deck.

The lowest deck was a library of books. Volumes lay haphazardly strewn about in dense clusters without any discernible organization.

Seated behind a table overflowing with ancient tomes, an elderly man with deep wrinkles etched to his visage was engrossed in his reading.

The sound of approaching footsteps had him lifting his gaze. Peering through his reading glasses, a faint smile appeared on his wrinkled face. "Ah, Mr. Charles! I've good news regarding the eradication of your other—"

Richard suddenly burst into a coughing fit to interrupt the elderly man.

The old man paused and glanced at Elizabeth. He immediately went silent.

"Leave first," Richard said as he pulled his arm out of Elizabeth's grasp.

She curiously glanced at the two before nodding. "Alright, carry on with your work. I'll be outside."

As the distinct click-clack of Elizabeth's heels grew fainter, Richard dashed toward the old man in excitement and inquired, "How's it going? Any progress?"

The old man nodded and turned his gaze onto a pile of books next to him. With a graceful lift of his left hand, the disorderly books spread their pages and fluttered away like birds to reveal a secret door.

The door swung open with a creak, and Richard followed the old man into the chamber.

The space was relatively compact, roughly the size of a bedroom and a half. Amidst the array of bottles and jars arranged around the room, a man was confined, and his face was concealed behind the mask, 096.

His four limbs were firmly bound with iron chains. No matter how vigorously he shook his head, the Clown Mask remained fixed on his face.

"Look." The old man beckoned with a lift of his left hand. A green-hued translucent figure detached itself from the man's body.

Pointing at the translucent figure, the old man explained, "With regards to this relic you handed to me, I did a considerable amount of research and finally discovered how it creates new personalities in its host. It alters the rotational count of the soul's astral pathways. Moreover, it—"

"Wait, I don't want to know the mechanism behind it. I just want to know how to get rid of one personality without affecting the other." Richard interjected with a hint of impatience in his tone.

The old man looked at Richard with a probing gaze. "Mr. Charles, perhaps have you used this relic? Then, may I know which personality I am talking to now?"

"It's none of your concern if I have used this relic. You just have to resolve this issue for me, and Elizabeth will grant you an additional five percent of her island," Richard answered with a cunning glint in his eyes.

The old man stared intensely at the young man before him for a long moment before he let out a chuckle.

"I've already discerned the relic's effects on the soul. Now, I just need to concoct the potion. Don't worry. When it comes to the knowledge of the soul, no one is more adept at it than the patriarch of the Gunther Family."

"Great. How long will it take?" Richard's eyes were filled with urgency.

"As a show of sincerity in regards to our collaboration, I've already prepared the Soul Congealing Potion. I know that you are in urgent need of this," the old man said. He lifted his wrinkled hand, and a palm-sized glass bottle floated out from the depths of his robe's sleeve and hovered before Richard.

Richard clasped the bottle and gave it a gentle sway.

The bronze fluid intertwined with black streaks danced mesmerizingly inside the bottle.