ALL NOVEL Chapter 23 - The Alchemist’s Street (2)
Chapter 23: The Alchemist’s Street (2)
In major cities, there is usually a craftsman’s street dedicated to production professions.
The largest and widest street was the Blacksmith’s Street, while the Cook’s Street, always crowded with ordinary people, was the most frequently visited.
The Tailor’s Street was a favorite for celebrities, tycoons, and noblewomen in the real world.
A commonality among these streets was that successful high-level user tailors were raking in money.
Just as brands exist in reality, they also exist in the game.
Currently, there were guilds representing each production profession: “Kalladium” for blacksmiths, “Five Star” for chefs, “Zeki Puzzle” for tailors, and “Jewelry Perfume” for jewelers.
Of course, since players worldwide participated in the game, culinary and tailoring trends varied by country, much like in reality.
However, there were exceptions.
Blacksmith and alchemist brands were almost universally popular at the highest ranks, regardless of country.
Weapon designs had a universal appeal, and since the ranked blacksmiths of prestigious guilds only accepted custom orders, national preferences didn’t matter much.
The same was true for alchemists.
Players didn’t prefer different potions based on the country; as long as the potion worked well, it was fine!
Particularly, the luxury alchemist guild “Levian” even added flavors to their potions, making them palatable despite their usually unpleasant taste.
As expected, their potions were unnecessarily expensive, even though their performance was average.
Naturally, potions were inherently costly.
Beginners carried herbal bandages, while intermediate players carried one or two potions at most, just in case.
Potions weren’t something to use lavishly, as their cost-effectiveness was poor for a consumable.
Nevertheless, most players carried potions as a form of insurance, believing it was better than dying.
Levian’s potions, however, were even pricier than the average.
This was essentially the “luxury branding” of potions.
As Yeonwol strolled the street, he examined the prices of the luxury potions currently on the market.
“Levian seems to dominate.”
The Alchemist Guild Levian had always ranked among the top 10 potion brands about 2–3 years after the game launched.
Although it was later criticized as a greedy guild and eventually collapsed, it seemed to still hold the market firmly for now.
[Lowest Grade Potion (Levian)]
*HP Recovery: 450–550
*Level Requirement: 10
Price: 30G
[Lowest Grade Strength Potion (Levian)]
*Increases Strength by 7 for 30 minutes
*Level Requirement: 10
Price: 50G
Yeonwol couldn’t hide his astonishment.
“What is this garbage?”
Even he couldn’t recall exactly how potion prices were set in the early stages of the game.
But to see such trash dominate the market was shocking.
From the low-grade potions onward, the prices became even more ridiculous, inflated to four or five times the base value, while mid-grade potions were outright auctioned daily.
Still, Levian’s products were considered decent for their price, and their “flavored” potions made them the most popular choice.
Wealthy players thought using mid-grade or higher Levian potions was a fashionable way to flaunt their wealth.
They even sponsored famous celebrities to drink Levian-branded potions in promotional videos.
“Looks like user alchemists have completely cornered the market for the lowest-grade potions. Those Rabbit Princess jerks are absurdly fast.”
For mid-grade potions, NPC alchemists still made better products, but user alchemists outperformed them in the lowest and low-grade potion categories.
This was likely due to the rapid skill development and hidden classes unique to players.
As a result, it was inevitable to rely on the potion market monopolized by player alchemists.
Levian Guild was one of those exploitative guilds manipulating potion prices at will.
This phenomenon arose because there were too few alchemist players.
With so few people pursuing alchemy, there was no one to determine reasonable prices, nor could the technology advance quickly.
Yeonwol tried estimating the potential performance of potions using the alchemy techniques stored in his memory.
“Even though my skill level is low, using future recipes, I can create a lowest-grade potion that recovers an average of 900 HP. The cost would be about half.”
If he set his mind to it, he could create potions twice as effective as Levian’s, for half the price.
The difference in technical prowess was absurd.
Future potion crafting methods were on an entirely different level.
“Even though I have future technology, it wouldn’t be wise to release it all at once. Who knows how Deus might interfere again. I’ll release it gradually but still advance this world’s alchemy much faster than before.”
His goal was to ensure that the alchemy techniques of this timeline surpassed those of his past life by at least ten years within the next eight years.
“It’s not as bustling as it used to be.”
In the “old” days—around 6–7 years after the game launched—the streets had been packed.
Now, it was comparatively less crowded.
In the future, potion prices would drop significantly, and the average skill level of players would rise, increasing the demand for potions.
However, for now, the influx of beginner players meant potion demand hadn’t reached future levels.
Yeonwol headed to a rented alchemy workshop.
Players without their own labs often rented workshops to conduct research.
The shared facilities housed many other alchemists, but no one paid attention to what others were doing.
“Let’s see how I can produce the lowest-grade potions.”
This didn’t require much research.
He only needed to draw upon his existing knowledge.
However, it wasn’t entirely without challenges.
Downgrading potions was surprisingly tedious.
Having worked with advanced potions, it was tricky to deliberately underperform—to balance ingredients inefficiently or intentionally use suboptimal synthesis methods.
Trial and error took longer than expected.
If it seemed like a higher-grade potion was about to be created, he stopped immediately.
Accidentally completing one would result in it being registered in the system.
Initially, he aimed for something just slightly weaker than Levian’s potions.
But this turned out to be harder than anticipated.
No, not just hard—it was frustratingly difficult!
“How on earth did they manage to make such terrible potions?”
No matter how many impurities he added or how inefficiently he infused magic during the process, his potions still outperformed Levian’s.
He felt like marching into Levian and demanding to know their secret.
How had they managed to create such awful potions?
Even his very first attempts at potion-making hadn’t been this terrible, leaving him baffled by the standards of this era’s potion technology.
“I’m almost curious about their trade secrets.”
After wasting several hours on potion downgrading, Yeonwol had no choice but to settle on a compromise.
Though releasing excessively high-value potions at his low level might attract unnecessary attention, he’d already given up on staying hidden after uploading the Khazaram video.
The result was Yeonwol’s lowest-grade potion, boasting over 20% better performance than Levian’s.
“Mass production is still beyond me. With my current skill proficiency, I can only make about 20 bottles a day.”
Of these, two bottles were tagged as “Maker-Only,” possessing particularly superior effects for Yeonwol to use in combat.
He released the remaining 18 bottles onto the market.
On this street, Yeonwol entrusted three samples to the most famous and prominent clan, the Swallowfire Clan, as well as Levian’s branch, and distributed the remaining 15 bottles to other clans.
At the Swallowfire Clan, he was coldly turned away.
Even after showing them the potions, they didn’t bother to check them and casually dismissed him.
Yeonwol, who wasn’t desperate, simply moved on to other clans.
“This… A player made such a potion?!”
For now, NPCs still had significantly better alchemy skills.
Although players had conquered the lowest and low-grade potions, they couldn’t yet compete with NPCs in mid-grade or higher potions.
Even so, NPCs highly valued the potential of players and were desperate to recruit even one player into their clans.
“You, Yeonwol, right? How about joining our clan? We can even promise you the position of vice master!”
“Just handle the distribution. I can supply about 20 bottles a day.”
Though there would be some fees deducted, leaving the potion business to the clans was better.
While he could visit individual buyers himself, that would be a waste of time.
He wasn’t about to squander precious time chasing small profits.
His alchemy proficiency steadily increased.
[Basic Alchemy 49%]
Once the proficiency of Basic Alchemy reached 100%, it would advance to Low Alchemy.
From the low level onwards, he could officially start crafting buff potions.
Though he could make them without the skill, the effects would be weaker.
“It’s better to prepare now while my skill proficiency is still low.”
If his skill level rose later, the performance would become excessively high, making it hard to distribute in the market.
After a week, Yeonwol sold over 100 bottles of potions and pocketed the profits.
The money he collected totaled 900 gold.
“Still barely breaking even.”
Without setting up a factory for mass production, it was difficult to make big money with lowest-grade potions, no matter how extraordinary they were.
Still, there was one advantage: the clans barely deducted any fees, practically begging him to continue trading with them.
Unfortunately, Yeonwol had no intention of continuing business with them.
“I’m not planning to become a factory manager churning out potions. Anyway, those who bought my potions are probably researching them rather than distributing them in the market. Good luck with that.”
Maybe later, if he handed down the techniques to a successor and directed them to produce potions.
But for now, once he raised his skill proficiency enough and saved up a decent amount of money, he planned to return to hunting.
“I’ll stop making potions for today. It’s about time I started practicing Soul Transmutation.”
Potions were merely a secondary skill.
Currently, Yeonwol’s main skill was Soul Transmutation, so he couldn’t spend too much time on potions.
At the same time.
The player alchemist guild, Levian.
Levian, one of the most renowned luxury alchemist guilds, was now in a state of emergency.
[Lowest Grade Potion (Yeonwol)]
Looking at the potion in front of him, Levian Guild Leader Ravitus nervously bit his nails.
“This… Are we certain a player made this?”
“Probably, yes.”
“Don’t say probably! Bring me concrete information!”
“We asked the clan leaders who received the samples! They didn’t want to talk, but after some bribing, they confessed. An alchemist wearing the typical low-level cloth armor unique to players handed it over. His face was covered, so they only knew his nickname: Yeonwol.”
“Lately, it seems like everyone using the nickname Yeonwol is causing trouble.”
They didn’t think the alchemist Yeonwol and Khazaram Killer Yeonwol were the same person.
After all, in this game, nicknames could overlap as much as players wanted.
“But cloth armor? Why would an alchemist wear such a thing? Shouldn’t he be in a lab coat or something? Doesn’t he know it boosts alchemy stats?”
“Perhaps he doesn’t…”
“What an idiot. He must’ve been lucky to make this kind of potion. He probably got a hidden class somewhere.”
The possibility that he had obtained a hidden class specializing in recovery potions was quite high.
Otherwise, how could a beginner-level alchemist in cloth armor create potions superior to those of the Levian Guild?
“If this gets out in the community, it’ll tarnish Levian Guild’s reputation.”
“I know that.”
Biting his lips in frustration, Ravitus suddenly stroked his chin as if struck by inspiration.
“Wait. That thing isn’t patented yet, is it?”
“It’s not registered, according to our information. It’s been about two days since the potion hit the market, and if it’s still not registered, there’s probably an issue with the potion that’s preventing him from doing so.”
“…I see.”
His hesitation didn’t last long.
“I’ve got a good idea. We’ll avoid any damage to our reputation and, if executed correctly, we might even acquire that technology and hidden class for ourselves.”
Opening his chat window, Ravitus scrolled through his friends list with a sly grin.
“Contact the Eltube rankers we sponsor immediately. Have them shoot a few ‘Potion Review’ videos for us.”