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墨書 Inktalez
The Public Laboratory was quite vast; in fact, it was essentially a massive hollowed-out mountain, transformed into an enormous space within. Despite its size, the area did not feel spacious. It was divided into several levels, each filled with petri dishes or severed limbs, or various mechanical creations. Each item represented a researcher, and many were clustered together, focused on a particular spot.
Newton leaned on his cane, and his single-handed and one-legged presence did not draw much attention. In fact, he noticed several individuals around him who had only one eye or were completely limbless.
"Quite astonishing," he remarked.
What surprised him was not the number of people present but rather that none seemed inclined to use prosthetics. Instead, each person had a few robots bustling around them, tirelessly conducting various research tasks. It appeared that the researchers here acted more like guides or brains of the operation; of course, there were also many who were actively engaged in hands-on research. The studies ranged from aesthetically pleasing to those that seemed utterly inhumane. Newton witnessed numerous experiments related to human testing.
"So, are these positions chosen at random?" Newton asked his companion.
"Exactly. It seems that people aren't very enthusiastic about working together. Some often start arguing after working together for a while, so Lord Val simply allowed everyone to choose their own workspaces. This actually improved efficiency quite a bit."
That made sense; after all, not every research facility operated normally. Some individuals sought to create sensational news. Over there were those conducting experiments on human subjects, while elsewhere were bizarre hybrids resembling grotesque beasts—things that ordinary people could hardly comprehend. There were indeed many individuals whose ideas diverged significantly from common perceptions; if they were all thrown together without care, trouble would surely arise.
"Surely there must be some gathering areas?" Newton inquired.
Indeed, despite any discomfort with the situation, for the sake of convenience in trading and collaboration, Newton observed that nearby researchers still engaged in mutual assistance. Consequently, it made sense for individuals involved in related projects to congregate. This was precisely the case as his companion led him to an area filled with… beings that looked remarkably like witches. They weren't identical but bore a striking resemblance to one another. Each person had bottles and jars before them, occasionally mixing substances together, releasing various strange gases that sometimes formed skull-like shapes in the air.
What on earth was the Albarez Empire thinking about pharmacology?
Newton felt as though he might lose his mind; were these individuals truly scientific researchers and not just wizards from some obscure school? Yet surprisingly, the people here showed interest in Newton. Almost immediately, a figure resembling an old farmer rushed over to him.
"Are you the new Pharmacology researcher?"
The old man looked Newton up and down, clicking his tongue in curiosity.
"Here, give this a try."
The old man pulled out a bottle, and the contents were quite familiar to Newton; it was clearly a potion that his Guild had once sold, and it was definitely not a high-end potion.
"Sir, you do realize that I'm from another continent, right? So there's really no need to bring out things from that country."
Newton wore a friendly smile on his face.
"Oh, is that so? You're actually from another continent? Impressive! Then do you know the detailed formula for this potion?"
The old man's expression immediately shifted to one of excitement.
"Honestly, I've been studying this potion for quite some time, but I still have no practical use for it. I have no grasp of the formula or the preparation methods at all."
"Sir, if just anyone could know these things, then this wouldn't have created such a large Guild. Especially the preparation methods—believe me, we've had people trying to replicate it back home, but not a single one has succeeded."
As soon as Newton said this, the old man wilted like a frostbitten eggplant.
"Is that so? Is there not even a glimmer of hope?"
"There is, but at most, we can only replicate some flawed potions. We have no means to reproduce those near-perfect potions. Moreover, the other party is not just an excellent Alchemist; they are also a quite powerful Mage. Their strength is reflected in their Alchemy skills. If we could learn their Alchemy techniques, then their wealth, power, and abilities would be within our grasp."
Listening to Newton's words, the old man felt somewhat helpless. Indeed, this potion had been in their possession for some time, but it was like a beautiful woman veiled in mystery; you could sense her extraordinary beauty, yet you had no idea what made her so enchanting.
Seeing that Newton was of no help, the old man lost interest and turned to leave. Newton awkwardly touched his nose, initially considering whether to inform the other party about his potions, but it seemed unnecessary now.
Having exchanged a few words with those involved in potion-making, Newton found that hardly anyone paid him any attention. Here, one had to rely on strength; without the corresponding ability, all one would receive were disdainful glances and mockery. Finding a corner, Newton realized he didn't need anyone's assistance. This corner had the advantage of allowing him to work without drawing too much attention. After tidying up the area, Newton began to wander around the Public Laboratory.
Having already spent some time there, he found everything remarkably abundant—various items that opened his eyes wide. As he walked, he pondered whether he could create a similar place back home. If he could gather all the Alchemists of the kingdom together, what a spectacular scene that would be!
While lost in thought, a mechanical table caught Newton's eye. It wasn't particularly impressive; rather, it was something on top of it that was very familiar to him.
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