MTL NOVEL Chapter 24: chapter 24 kicking
As Kaelith made his way through Frost Haven, he noticed a commotion near one of the larger rented residences occupied by Pink Solutions.
A man in alchemist robes was thrown out of the building, landing hard on the cobblestone street. His bag tumbled after him, spilling glass vials and parchment onto the ground. Some of the vials shattered on impact, releasing the distinct scent of herbs and alchemical reagents.
"Get lost, you useless failure!" a burly Pink Solutions member sneered from the doorway, crossing his arms as he glared down at the fallen alchemist.
The Alchemist gritted his teeth, rubbing his bruised arm as he tried to gather his things. "I followed the correct formulas! Just because my success rate is lower doesn't mean the potions are bad!"
Another Pink Solutions member laughed mockingly, stepping forward and kicking over the remaining intact potions, sending blue and red liquids spilling onto the street. "You expect us to pay full price for a 40% success rate? Others have an 80% success rate, even if their quality is lower. Why would we keep a failure like you?"
Kaelith raised an eyebrow.
"So that's why they kicked him out," he thought.
The alchemist's potions had a higher quality—9 out of 10 compared to the usual 3 out of 10— but his success rate was much lower. Pink Solutions, being short-sighted and greedy, valued quantity over quality. They didn't care about producing high-grade potions, only about mass production and profit.
The Alchemist's hands clenched into fists, frustration evident in his expression. "You fools don't understand real alchemy! Low-quality potions might be fine now, but when higher-tier dungeons open, your guild will regret relying on trash!"
The Pink Solutions thug only laughed harder. "Oh? And who's going to sell us potions then? You? With your pathetic success rate?"
The crowd that had gathered watched in silence, some looking away awkwardly. No one wanted to get involved—not against a powerful guild.
Kaelith exhaled slowly, narrowing his eyes.
"They really haven't changed at all," he muttered to himself.
Pink Solutions always focused on short-term gain, ignoring long-term potential. They had driven away countless talented crafters in his previous life, choosing to exploit those who could mass-produce cheap items instead.
The Alchemist looked ready to argue further, but Kaelith could already see it was pointless.
The question was—should he step in?
Or just walk away and let things play out?
After all, he wasn't a hero.
Kaelith's eyes narrowed as he recognized the man standing in the doorway of the rented residence.
Lark.
The same arrogant manager of Pink Solutions who had been thrown in jail for assaulting an NPC woman just hours ago.
And yet, here he was again—his face still bruised, his anger barely contained—taking it out on someone weaker.
Lark's foot lashed out, kicking the fallen alchemist's bag, sending vials rolling across the cobblestone street. His expression was one of pure irritation, as if he needed to exert control over someone after the humiliation he had suffered earlier.
"Pathetic!" Lark spat, his face twisted in frustration. "I just got out of jail, and the first thing I see is this useless trash wasting our resources? You think we'll let you keep burning through our materials just because your potions have 'high quality'?"
The alchemist flinched, but he didn't look away. "My potions are far better than the garbage your guild mass-produces! You're just too short-sighted to see it!"
Lark's expression darkened.
"Oh? Then go ahead—sell your so-called 'high-quality' potions to someone else! Oh, wait—no one will buy from a failure with a 40% success rate!"
He grabbed the alchemist by the collar, yanking him up roughly before slamming him against the wooden doorframe.
The gathered players and NPCs watched in silence, some whispering, others looking away—none daring to interfere.
Kaelith, however, remained unmoved, his fingers tapping lightly against the new bow slung across his back.
"Lark, huh?"
He had expected Pink Solutions to be arrogant, but he hadn't thought Lark would be back to his usual ways so soon.
Still…
"I could just walk away. Not my problem."
And yet—Kaelith's eyes flickered toward the alchemist. A craftsman with high-quality products but a low success rate.
In his previous life, alchemy was one of the most important professions once higher-level content was unlocked.
Low-quality potions might be cheap and plentiful, but in dangerous dungeons and large-scale wars, only high-quality potions could make the difference between life and death.
Kaelith sighed.
"If I ignore this, I might regret it later."
Lark raised his hand, looking as if he was about to punch the alchemist—
—when Kaelith stepped forward.
"That's enough." His voice was calm, but cold as ice.
Lark froze mid-swing, his head snapping toward Kaelith. The thug's bruised face twisted in recognition, then rage.
"You again?!" Lark snarled, his grip tightening on the alchemist's collar. "You were the bastard who got me thrown in jail!"
Kaelith's lips curled into a mocking smirk. "Oh? I thought you got yourself thrown in jail by being an idiot."
Lark's veins bulged. "You—"
Before he could finish, Kaelith's hand rested on his bow.
A simple movement.
But it was enough to send a clear message.
Lark hesitated.
He might have been angry, but he wasn't stupid.
Kaelith was not an NPC—he was a player. And thanks to his third-rate citizen status, he could legally kill any lower-ranked player as long as he paid a fine.
And Lark? He was nothing more than a disposable pawn in Pink Solutions.
For the first time, Lark's eyes flickered with uncertainty.
Kaelith tilted his head. "Let go."
A tense moment passed.
Then—Lark shoved the alchemist away with a sneer.
"Tch. Not worth the trouble."
Without another word, he turned on his heel and stormed back inside the residence, slamming the door shut behind him.
The gathered crowd slowly began to disperse, players murmuring amongst themselves.
The alchemist exhaled shakily, rubbing his sore throat. Then he turned to Kaelith.
"You… didn't have to do that."
Kaelith sighed, shaking his head. "Yeah. I really didn't."
But now that he had…
He might as well see if this alchemist was useful.
The alchemist adjusted his crumpled robes and glanced at Kaelith, still rubbing his throat where Lark had grabbed him. His expression was a mix of wariness and relief.
"My name?" He hesitated for a moment before answering. "Veyron."
Kaelith took a moment to assess him. Veyron wasn't just any random alchemist.
His robes, while worn, were clearly of higher quality than what most low-level crafters wore. His hands had faint burn marks, proof of someone who worked directly with potions rather than just mixing ingredients mindlessly. And his eyes—sharp and focused—didn't belong to someone who would give up easily.
Still, a 40% success rate…
That wasn't great. But the 9/10 quality rating? That was insanely high compared to the standard mass-produced potions.
Kaelith narrowed his eyes. "You were kicked out because of your success rate?"
Veyron sighed, his frustration evident. "Yeah. Those bastards only care about quantity, not quality. They think a potion with 80% success rate but terrible effects is better than mine. Idiots."
Kaelith smirked. "So what now? You gonna beg them to take you back?"
Veyron scoffed. "I'd rather eat dirt. But I need materials if I want to keep making potions, and without a backing, it's hard to get access to alchemy supplies."
Kaelith crossed his arms, thinking.
A skilled alchemist—even one struggling with consistency—could become an invaluable asset.
And if Pink Solutions had thrown him away, that meant no one had claimed him yet.
"I could use an alchemist."
Kaelith spoke casually, but Veyron's eyes flickered with interest. "You serious?"
Kaelith shrugged. "I don't need mass-produced garbage. I need real potions—potions that can save my life when it actually matters."
Veyron crossed his arms, thinking it over. "And what do you get out of this?"
Kaelith grinned. "A personal alchemist sounds pretty useful, don't you think?"
A long pause.
Then—Veyron let out a slow breath before offering his hand. "Fine. You've got a deal."
Kaelith shook it, his smirk widening.
"Good. Then let's make some money."