Chapter 47: Chapter 43: Cuter Than a Devil
Anyone familiar with wilderness survival knows—eating wood is the easy part; passing it is the hard part.
This is because humans lack the symbiotic bacteria needed to digest cellulose.
But shipworms do.
Their digestion is entirely dependent on these symbiotic bacteria.
And so, Velin’s line of thought became clear.
Attacking the shipworms directly was like running into a wall of bronze and iron.
But what if the operation of this solid fortress relied on a group of incredibly fragile supply troops?
He stood up and found Master Valerius, who was in another room organizing data.
"Master, I have an idea and require your wisdom."
The old alchemist walked over to Velin and looked at the image under the microscope, a puzzled expression in his eyes.
"Sir, if I may be blunt, your line of thinking has completely transcended the scope of traditional biotoxicology."
"Master, what I want to destroy are these symbiotic bacteria. They are fragile, but they are hidden inside the shipworms’ digestive tracts."
"Therefore, I need a substance that can inhibit their activity. Its properties should be a thick, fibrous root bark that has a ’cottony’ feel when torn. It should be storable for long periods after being dried, and when boiled in water, its taste should be bitter at first, then sweet."
Valerius stroked his salt-and-pepper beard, lost in thought.
"Your description reminds me of the ’Ghostface Mulberry.’ The indigenous people in the mountains boil its root bark in water and pour it into streams. The fish in the stream become paralyzed and float to the surface. But how would we get the potion inside?"
"That requires a second ingredient," Velin continued, "a powerful penetration enhancer. It needs to be able to break down the oily layer on a creature’s surface, opening a path for the potion. Typically, such substances come from some kind of extremely bitter seed."
"That would have to be the extracted oil of the Stone Bitter Fruit!" The Master’s eyes lit up. "Its mild corrosiveness is perfect! But, we still face the same problem: how do we get these two substances to adhere stably to the ship hulls in the seawater, without being diluted?"
Velin also fell into deep thought. This was indeed a bottleneck in his plan.
Suddenly, the Master slapped his thigh. "I remember! In my younger years, I traveled by ship to the Mist Islands. The natives there have a ceremonial ’gel’ made by boiling a type of seaweed called ’Sea Siren’s Hair.’ It doesn’t disperse in water and has an extremely strong affinity for wood! They use it to preserve their ritual boats! And the stuff is cheap and plentiful!"
The old man looked at Velin, his eyes filled with admiration. "Genius! This is a truly genius concept! To perfectly combine three materials with completely mismatched magical properties using an entirely new theory! This is no longer Alchemy. This is... the logic of a creator!"
Velin remained noncommittal. "I am merely transforming theory into a practical ’weapon’."
...
「Back to the present.」
After listening to Velin’s explanation, Caroline stared blankly at the glass jar on the table. Inside, the corpses of several "banes" were abnormally bloated.
A few seconds later, her shoulders began to tremble slightly.
It wasn’t from excitement, but because the suffocating pressure that had been weighing her down had, at this moment, finally been lifted.
She didn’t cry. She just slowly slid back into her chair, covering her face with her hands as a suppressed sound, somewhere between a sob and a hysterical laugh, escaped her throat.
After a long moment, she caught her breath. When she looked up, the exhaustion and vulnerability in her emerald eyes had been replaced by a reignited flame.
"This is wonderful!" She shot to her feet. "I’m going to organize my people at once and apply this..."
Velin supplied, "Beta-1,4-glucanase inhibitor."
Caroline stared blankly for a moment. "Uh... inhibitor. We’ll dump it in the harbor! We can save the remaining ships!"
She eagerly reached for the glass jar on the table, ready to rush out and gather her subordinates, who had all but lost hope.
Velin, however, impassively slid the glass jar containing the "antidote" a little closer to himself. It was a small movement, but his message was clear.
Caroline’s outstretched hand froze in mid-air. She started, then frowned. "What do you mean by that?"
Velin’s hand rested lightly on the jar as he looked at her calmly. "Now, everything about you and the Golden Sail Commerce Association involves me." He continued in a matter-of-fact tone, "And when I handle problems, I like to maximize the benefits."
This abrupt and somewhat possessive statement sent Caroline’s thoughts down an unpleasant path. The tips of her ears turned slightly red, and she was just about to correct him.
"You..."
"I don’t know how to run a business."
Velin cut her off, his gaze seeming to pierce through the walls toward the chaotic harbor in the distance.
"I was just thinking, Lady Caroline. A perfect plague requires three elements: a deadly pathogen, a widespread method of transmission, and... the sole antidote."
He paused, looking into Caroline’s eyes, and saw that flame flare even brighter before continuing, "The enemy gave us the first two. And now, we hold the third. Do you think the purpose of this antidote is merely to cure the disease?"
His words struck Caroline’s mind like a clap of thunder.
Her mind—the mind of a top-tier merchant, which had temporarily shut down from despair—was reactivated, and it began to spin at an unprecedented speed.
’The antidote... the information gap...’
’The enemy’s stranglehold... the monopolized raw material market... the poached technical teams...’
Countless fragmented pieces of information collided and reassembled in her mind. A plan, insane and audacious to the extreme, rapidly took shape.
Her lips moved, silently forming a few words.
"Smokescreen... concealment... a trap..."
Her eyes grew brighter and brighter, shining with a light that was a mixture of excitement and cruelty, like a lioness that has finally caught the scent of her prey.
This was no longer a simple counterattack.
This was about dragging those self-righteous vultures into a trap—and taking them down, flesh, bone, and all!
"Ha!"
Caroline let out a short laugh and punched Velin on the shoulder, the force of the blow making him take half a step back.
She leaned in close, her eyes shockingly bright in the dim light, swirling with cruelty, excitement, and appreciation.
"You devil... no," her voice dropped to a low whisper, "you’re far more lovable than any devil."
With that, she turned away, as if her previous loss of composure had never happened.
The instant she turned, she switched back to being the Silver-Haired Witch. Her iron will and majesty were her armor once more, even sharper and colder than before.
She yanked open the office door.
"Freeman! Assemble all department heads! Immediately! Now!"
Her majestic and decisive roar echoed down the corridor outside the door.
Velin stood his ground, watching her commanding figure disappear down the end of the hallway. He knew that this revenge, for which he himself had supplied the blade, was only just beginning.
He added in a low voice, as if speaking to the air, or perhaps to remind himself, "The show is about to begin."
